The Orator: Handling a hundred several Discourses, in form of Declamations: Some of the Arguments being drawn from Titus Livius and other ancient Writers, the rest of the Authors own invention: Part of which are of matters happened in our Age.  
Written in French by Alexander Siluayn, and Englished by L. P.  
LONDON Printed by Adam Islip. 1596.   

TO THE RIGHT Honourable my most especial good Lord john, Lord St. john, Baron of Bletsho.  
RIght Noble Lord, it is the custom of ignorant and unlearned statuaries (who are both defective in art and faulty in judgement) when they have either a Venus to carve, or a Cupid to polish, to find means to rear them on some high marble pillars, to the end that the distance of the eye might shadow the defect of their cunning. In imitation of whom (knowing mine own disability to deserve, and weakness to achieve) having hewn out of my rough wit this first fruit of mine oratory, I have thought good to ground and rear them upon the authority and greatness of your Lordship, whose favours and merits may advance them to that degree and esteem of reputation, which of themselves they despair of, except under your favour and countenance. The reason why I make you my patron is for that I know you to be a ●auourer of the learned, and a maintainer of the soldier; discreet in your judgement, and bountiful to all toward and deserving scholars. Vouchsafe honourable lord, that your general affability and courtesy towards all men, admit no instance in my behalf, but as both by bounty and other infinite graces toward me you have made me fortunate, so now in countenancing this labour of mine, make me happy by your acceptance, who humbly beseech almighty God to join entire felicity to your many virtues.  
Your lordships in all dutiful affection, Lazarius Piot▪   

To the Reader.  
SInce he is to be counted a discreet man (gentle Reader) that provoked with the desire of glory, and kindled with good affection, endeavoureth to profit his neighbour by virtue, and procure himself a life and residence in the memory of posterities: I have thought good (in hope to advantage myself with the same title) to present thee with certain Rhethoricall Declamations, the use whereof in every member in our Commonweal, is as necessary, as the abuse of wilful ignorance is odious. In these thou mayest learn Rhetoric to enforce a good cause, and art to impugn an ill. In these thou mayest behold the fruits and flowers of Eloquence, which as Tully saith in his Orator, Bene constitutae civitatis est quasi alumna: use them to thy profit good Reader, and accept them with as good a mind as I present them with a virtuous intent. If thou study law, they may help thy plead, or if divinity (the reformer of law) they may perfect they persuasions. In reasoning of private debates, here mayest thou find apt metaphors, in encouraging thy soldiers fit motives. Father's here have good arguments to move affections in their children, and children virtuous reconcilements to satisfy their displeased fathers: briefly every private man may in this be partaker of a general profit, and the grossest understanding find occasion of reformation. The benefits then so general, and my intent so honest, I heartily entreat you to keep Talions law in this, and pay me like for like, give me good thoughts for great studies, and at leastwise show me this courtly courtesy, to afford me good words (which cost you nothing) for serious thoughts hatched up with much consideration. Thus commending my deserts to the learned, and committing my labour to the instruction of the ignorant, I bid you all heartily farewell.  
L. P.   

THE MIRROR OF Eloquence: Containing an hundred Historical, or rather Tragical Declamations.  

Declamation. 1.  
Of Fuluius, who caused the Senators of Capua to be beheaded, without the consent of the Senate and people of Rome.  
BY how much they of Capua were prone, and ill advised, to revolt from the Romans unto Hannibal, after the battle of Cannae, by so much were they more obstinately besieged, so that being forced for want of timely succours, to yield unto the mercy of the two Roman Consuls, Appius Claudius, and Quintus Fuluius, they were in the end more cruelly punished than any other rebels. The which Vibius Virius (the ringleader, and chief author of the said rebellion) together with seven and twenty other Senators foreseeing, they all poisoned themselves at a banquet: The rest of them that yielded, were sent to prison, five and twenty to Cally, and eight & twenty to Theana. Where without any commandment from the Senate or people of Rome, and especially without the consent of Claudius: Fuluius caused them all to be first scourged with rods, and afterwards to be beheaded. Wherefore a doubt was made whether he was more righteous or rigorous in his deed. And therefore let us imagine, that shortly after the rest of the Capuans accused him, saying thus:  
WAs it not sufficient grave Senators, & you blessed people, that Vibius and his associates the chief authors and cause of the said rebellion, did sacrifice themselves unto Fuluius his cruelty, but that you must further add thereunto these seven and fifty miserable Senators? Is it possible that they were all culpable? No surely: for seeing that they trusted to the Roman clemency, their conscience was a sure testimony of their innocency. But that could not save them from the fury of Fuluius, who to excercise his cruelty, hath taken from the Senate & people of Rome, the means as well to show their pity as their power, not considering that the worthiest part of a victory is to subdue the just desire of revenge. Wherefore despising all authority, & chiefly that of his Colleague and companion of his victory, he rather desired to be accounted cruel then merciful, and neglecting the proverb which saith, That sometimes man showeth himself a God unto man, would rather verify the contrary, That man is even a wolf unto man. Surely our misery cannot but be great, yet should it have been more tolerable, if it had proceeded from the Senate, or people, for than should there have been some show of justice considered upon by many, where now is seen but a revenging cruelty, thought upon by one alone, and executed on the sudden. And so much more is this deed execrable, in as much as ordinarily we see many consultations to be held, and that of many men, to pronounce judgement against one: but alas, almost all our Senators have been condemned even in a moment by one man alone (if he ought so to be called) who hath showed himself more cruel than any furious Lion or fierce Tiger. For he not being satisfied with the stripes and death of those which were sent prisoners to Theana, took yet further pains to make his journey to Cally, to torture and behead those which were there also imprisoned: and he not being thoroughly appeased therewith, did add thereunto the miserable death of Taurea Lubullus a man even besides himself, who although that of his own accord he offered himself to abide any punishment, yet were his torments aggravated the more. All these acts (O Romans) are most lamentable, & worthy of great compassion amongst men. But yet the hateful contempt which this monstrous man hath made of your authority is most detestable: For as he was in acting the second execution at Callie, when the miserable souls were not yet all bound to the stakes, there came (as it were by divine grace, and your goodness) letters from the Praetor and people of Rome to stay their execution, nevertheless this man his rage alone, prevailed more than did the clemency of all the rest of you. But what is this man, who presumeth to be more wise, and taketh greater authority upon him, than all the other Romans besides? Surely if cruelty be wisdom, and presumption carry authority, he hath reason? But if humanity be decent for men, and to think no better of himself then others, be modesty, he hath done amiss? for he is worse than a beast that thinketh himself better than any other man. If it were lawful, I would feign know what moved him, that he could not so much as stay this last cruel execution? Or what hurt might have happened unto the Romans thereby? of whom we are the true (though disobedient) children, since heretofore we freely gave ourselves, & all we possessed into their hands. But if some amongst us, more ambitious than the rest, upon hope to command the weaker sort, have yielded themselves unto Hannibal, was it convenient that even those who were displeased therewithal should die so cruelly, without being admitted not so much as to speak for themselves. Alas this cruelty is too extreme, and so much the more in that it was done against the intention of the Senate & people of Rome. But God grant that under the colour of this horrible deed, there be not some secret hidden, more pernicious and hurtful unto the Romans then ever our rebellion was. I know (besides the difficulty thereof) how much all true Roman hearts do detest such as do aspire to tyrannize over their own country, yet I may say that the deeds of Fuluius do show that he aimeth at that mark, and it may be himself suspecteth that so much is already known by him; which was the only cause why he was unwilling that the Capuans should be suffered to speak, lest some thing might have been disclosed unto his prejudice, the which I will not affirm, because that if it were so, it ought to be more than made manifest, since that many have not only been suspected, but also grievously punished for matters less apparent than this: And amongst others Coriolanus, Manlius, Spurius, Cassius, and Melius, only for showing themselves over liberal. To conclude, I feel myself so overcharged with grief, as I am not able to speak in such sort as I ought, pleading before this honourable Senate, who may be pleased to bear with my weakness, considering that they never keep decorum which are overcharged with extreme sorrow. May it then please you most worthy Senators, protectors of equity, by that little which I have badly expressed, to consider what might further be spoken upon this matter, by one who is free from all anguish and fear.  

The Answer of M. Attilius in the absence of Fuluius.  
I Think most grave Senators, that these men here have no other reason to complain of Fuluius, but only because he hath saved the lives of too many of the Capuans. For it is very certain that after the taking, or surrender of Capua, Fuluius caused information to be made of all those that had borne any good will unto the Romans, and there were found no more than three silly women, that is to say, Vestia, Oppia, and Faucula Clwia, who by the hire of her body did secretly relieve the Romans that were in prison; and the other, did every day offer sacrifice for the prosperity & victory of the Romans: The third being but a young girl, was the same that came unto our camp, and gave intelligence that those Numidians which feigned to be run away from Capua, were sent for spies, and some of them were found with letters about them, to carry unto Hannibal. Touching the rest, it may be said, that although they were all guilty, yet did Fuluius cause those only to die, who surpassed the others in authority: Wherefore Fuluius was no less merciful unto those whom he saved, then just unto them that he executed. But it is the manner of the wicked, yea of the most part of men, seldom to say more rightly) none of their Citizens were worthy to live: so did Fuluius but well, having seen with his eyes your obstinacy in fight, your favour to Hannibal, and your hate to the Romans, thereupon to execute justice: as also because the dignity of the consulship carrieth with it the authority both of the Senate and people, in such affairs where expedition is required: and it is not for the offenders to demand an account of the judges for the justice which they have executed, but those who by their favour are yet living ought rather to admire their most wonderful mercy. Say then that your cruelties have been the cause that Fuluius may yet be called more merciful than just. Finally he is the man, who leaving his Colleague hurt at the siege of Capua, came with part of the army to succour Rome, and fight with Hannibal, who was before our gates at your instance: He it is who hath compelled you to submit yourselves again unto the Romans: And he it is who in the behalf of the people, hath yet the power to punish you further. Wherefore it is but folly to answer particularly to every slanderous supposition which you would assert against him, since those that are conquered, do never love their conquerors.    

Declamation 2.  
Of the first Earl of Flaunders, who was accused to the French King for hanging his eldest son.  
THe Flemings writ very obscurely in their Chronicles, that their first Earl was named Leideric, being the son of one Saluart, a Foster of Flaunders, and they say that the said Leideric, while he was yet a Foster and coming to survey his woods, did find the French king his daughter bebloubered with tears, because that in the said forest, some had murdered a Prince of England, who had secretly stolen and carried her forth of France. Which Princess, Leideric married, and of her had seven sons; whom he caused to be all appareled with garments, the left side whereof was cloth of gold in honour of their mother, and the right side was woollen cloth, because himself was neither prince nor knight. Now it happened that the said French king (whose name they likewise tell not) followed in chase of Hart even unto the city of List in Flaunders, where the said Leideric dwelled, with whom the king was lodged: who thoroughly viewing Leiderics children, thought that they greatly resembled his daughter's countenance, and demanding for their mother, he presently knew her for his lost child: Whereupon he made the said Leideric knight, and created him Earl of Flanders. Now saith the history, that the eldest son of the said Earl being old enough to court ladies, did meet before the court gates with a woman that had a small basket of fruit to sell, which he took from her and carried up unto the gentlewomen. The poor woman stayed for money for her said fruit, so long until it grew towards night, and then departing homeward, she lost herself in the forest, so as she could not find her house until the next morning, when coming home, she found her child dead for want of the teat. Whereupon she complained unto the Earl, he feigned to carry his said son abroad to tourney, but passing thorough the forest, he caused him to be hanged. Wherefore let us suppose that the people accused the Earl unto the king in this sort.  
EVery cruelty (if it may please your Majesty) is assuredly very odious, but that which the father committeth against his own child is most execrable: for the father his kindness ought to exceed all other love, imitating therein, the love which God did bear unto man, for the salvation of whom, he hath not spared his only begotten son, our Lord and Redeemer: whose example they are more bound to follow that are chosen to rule others, than those which are more base in condition, because the people for the most part do conform themselves to imitate their actions which command, and especially the bad before the good. Whereupon it followeth, that he which commandeth over a Commonwealth or province, cannot offend in any mean sort, especially if his offence be public, more if the cause be not over great, but most of all if it be such a vice as degenerateth from the nature of man: all which said faults are found in this detestable deed of our Earl, having wrongfully put to death his own son: and what son? Even his eldest son, and the same which should have succeeded him and been our Earl. But what offence can be more public then to cause his son to die by the most shameful death in the world? For by the halter, are thieves executed: and yet he had no such cause to put him to death, seeing that notwithstanding his fault was remediless: moreover there is no ●ice thought more unbeseeming a man then cruelty, and there is no greater cruelty than that which is committed against a man's own blood, the which cruelty is not only done against himself, against his son, and against us in putting our Prince to death, but also against the mother and brethren of the Prince, and that which worst is, against your Majesty; having executed the son of your daughter, your nephew, and your subject, who in process of time might have done good service unto your crown and state. Wherefore this tyrant hath not only showed cruelty unto all these above named, but he hath further manifested his ingratitude unto his king and sovereign; unto your Majesty I say, who hath made him noble by knighting him, creating him Earl of this country, and accepting him for your son in law. What punishment deserveth not a crime so manifest committed against the person of such a monarch? But who is so ignorant that will not affirm that in this action, froward fortune hath rather been the cause of the mischief happened unto this woman, than the prince himself, or else it was her negligence or ill hap, or the destiny of the infant. What meant she to stay so long? Did not she know where to have found the Prince the next day? Had she lost her money by staying for it? But to be short, this woman did show herself to be both cruel and obstinate, as their sex are for the most part, and it may be she stayed so long tattling with some of her gossips, and boasting that the Prince had bought her fruit, as night overtook her before she was aware: for the prattle of a woman is oftentimes without measure. But were it that the Prince his fault were far more manifest and heinous than it is, yet is the cause to be judged by none but by the king only, or by such as should by his Majesty be deputed and appointed for judges, and it is more unfit that the father should be judge of his child then any other, because either too exceeding love, or too extreme rage, may overrule him: for when he is angry with those whom he loveth, his anger proveth more vehement and dangerous towards them then against others. Likewise no judgement ought to be pronounced without counsel and due informations: But what proofs was brought against our prince? Where are those which were called to consult upon judgement, or to give advice that he ought to die? Alas, the father and the hangman were both jury, judge, and Executioner. Well, God grant this mischief proceed not from some other ground: that is to say, lest some old malice long since conceived hath not made the father to find this occasion to destroy his son, it may be, chiefly to advance his second son, whom he loved better. I pass over in silence how he hath secretly endeavoured to have the world suppose that the same was none of his son, thereby meaning to slander your daughter, for those which know themselves inferior to their wives, do never love them hearty, but seek all the means they can to make them less esteemed, and especially such as are ingrateful, of whom this Tyrant showeth himself to be the chiefest. It may be said that it is not lawful to accuse any man by conjecture, but what vileness may not a man imagine by such a one, seeing that like as virtues are knit together, so do vices follow one another? To conclude (dread sovereign) we do better feel this wrong done to your Majesty, to your daughter, to her children, and to ourselves, than we are able to express the same in words; but our just tears together with our silence, demand justice of your highness.  

The answer of the Earl.  
AS nothing surely can be more odious, or degenerating from the nature of man then cruelty, so also is nothing more necessary for human conversation, than justice joined with wisdom; for indeed without it, justice seemeth to be no better than cruelty, as wisdom also without justice is esteemed no other then mere malice, yet holding these two virtues linked together, a man may put his own child to death, and not be taxed of cruelty, but rather praised for his piety and love towards them and Commonwealth. And such were the Numantines accounted for slaying their children, rather than they would leave them for slaves: So was Virginius who killed his daughter to save her chastity. I pass over Manlius Torquatus, Posthumius, and divers others who put their own children to death only for the zeal they had unto the observation of military discipline: yet for all that not any of all these have been judged to be cruel or worthy of blame, but on the contrary have thereby gained immortal praise and glory. Likewise there is no doubt at all, but that the father's kindness ought to exceed all other love: following the example of our maker, who leaveth not to exercise his mercy together with his justice: and that it is so, he many times punisheth sins both in this world, and in the world to come: moreover we must not think any father so cruel to hurt his son in the little finger without feeling the grief thereof himself in the midst of his heart, and therefore it is a mere folly to teach fathers how they ought to love their children, since nature who is the mistress of all human creatures instructeth them therein sufficiently: and as it is most certain that princes or such as rule, are above all others bounden to be virtuous, and that they are constituted as guides and examples for all their subjects to follow, so can it not also be denied, but that severity of justice is more requisite in them then any of the other virtues, (if virtues may be feperated) and he which will well consider my deed without passion, shall find all the four principal virtues therein to be observed. For first of all I have done justice in putting him to death, who was not only the death of an innocent, or at the least the same that caused the mother to suffer her child to die, but also such a one who defrauded a poor woman of part of her living, in that he paid her not for the same, which she brought to sell for her relief. My prudence was showed in putting him to death without any commotion of the people, and in terrifying all others from offending, as also to take from every malefactor all hope to escape just punishment for their misdeeds. My temperance I declared in causing the offender to die by the shortest and secretest manner of death that I could devise, thereby ridding him from the shame to be a spectacle unto many. And my fortitude was manifest, in that I was able to overcome the desire which I had to pardon him both the same and all other offences. But in the end considering that the first princes are bound by their examples to stir up and provoke their successors to execute justice without partiality, I have for that end sacrificed my will, together with the life of my best beloved son, because the evil customs of the former princes are turned into laws by those which succeed them, and those which are good are quite forgotten if they be not confirmed by very memorable examples. Therefore Saul did not amiss when he would have put his son jonathas to death, seeing law is to be administered unto all alike: for where exception of persons is respected, there must needs corruption of justice follow, which marreth all, for nothing can be permament which is corrupted. True it is that he was my eldest son, but being such a one as he was, he neither aught to succeed me, nor yet to live any longer: and accuse me no more of cruelty, since to punish an evil doer is a deed of mercy, for pity without justice is folly or rather iniquity; and the greater he is that offendeth, the more severe punishment he deserveth: For the poor wretch, or he which is of base condition, may excuse himself by his poverty, by want of instruction, by ignorance, by his lewd education, and such other like reasons both vain and frivolous; but the offences of great personages is to be attributed to nothing but to pride & malice. Neither is one death more shameful than another, but only that death where the party is made a spectacle to the standers by: for it is not the death, but the offence that is shameful. And therefore in executing justice I cannot be termed cruel unto mine own blood or my son, nor unto your Prince, unto the King's daughter, neither unto our children: for he not being such a one as he ought to be, was now no more to be regarded by any of us, but was no better than a thief, and a murderer. Who is then so mad as to be called a grandfather, father, mother, brother, or a subject to so vild a man? Neither must these be the means to begin those good services that ought to be done unto the crown of France, which was institituted and preserved hitherto by virtue. It is a vain thing to go about to persuade fathers of the valour or worthiness of their children, seeing that for the most part they believe it more than is requisite, and always do excuse their faults more than they ought; of which sort I confess myself have been one, so long as there was any hope of amendment. I assure you, that a long time was my heart most grievously perplexed, before I could consent unto the punishment, & death of my son. But omitting all other circumstances I will show you the reasons which moved me to put my son to death, for the sons discredit, must needs be the father's disgrace, because they do always cocker their children but too much: and therefore it was not without cause that the Romans (from whence all good laws have their beginning) did give unto fathers all power over the life and death of their children, knowing that without most just occasion they would never put them to death. No son could be more dear unto me than mine eldest, but equity commandeth me to love the Common wealth better; which in no sort can be regarded, when he which ruleth the same is not virtuous, because none therein should be in safety if the prince were vicious. My life and death is in the mercy of the king's Majesty; but to die, I would not have failed to do that which I have done, being (as we are) mortal, and death may only be delayed, but not escaped. Our life also is not to be measured by our years but by our deeds: for he hath lived long enough who is by good men deemed most worthy of long life, and he cannot die too soon, who spendeth his life in wickedness. Wherefore it was no reason that my son should have lived any longer, and I would to God that so his reproach might die with him, as I wish my renown may live after me. Touching judgement, he which governeth the Commonwealth, must needs be judge in the same. Such were the Dictator's or Consuls amongst the Romans, and such at this day are kings and princes. And Plato saith: Happy is that country where Philosophers are kings, and kings be Philosophers: whereby it appeareth, that rulers ought to be judges, as you yourselves do confess, in saying that the king ought to have judged my son: which indeed had been reasonable, if his Majesty by his prerogative had not given me free authority in matter of justice; in such sort then as I am subject to the judgement of the king, is my son subject unto mine, and I am not to yield an account of my actions unto any other then unto his Majesty: and especially because the witness of a father against his son is more sufficient than all other testimonies, according to the reasons above said: and saving my duty unto his royal majesty, and this noble assistance, this is most false which you object against me, touching my lady the Countess; who hath thought me worthy to be her husband, and the king accepting me for his son in-law, I have evermore loved and honoured: and so far am I from causing her to be ill accounted of, as with the price of my life I would seek to defend and increase her honour, which being so, it may please his highness not to suffer him to be unpunished, who hath spoken so slanderously as thou hast done, as if any person living might doubt of her chastity. In saying that I think myself to be inferior unto her, thou dost therein also show thy ignorance together with thy malice: for besides the difference of the sex, which maketh every man better than a woman, it is most manifest, that love and marriage doth always make the man and the wife equal. It is likewise to be considered, that they are no less noble which attain thereunto by desert, than those which come unto it by descent, for which the heirs are the more beholding unto their ancestors: and to say that I deserve not the dignity which I enjoy, it should be a reproach unto the king, who of his grace respecting my deserts, hath himself thought me worthy of what he hath bestowed upon me. Lastly, I appeal unto your majesty for the wrong which my subjects do offer me in accusing and slanderidg me unjustly, and consequently I demand justice upon the same.    

Declamation, 3.  
Of Pacwius, who having by his subtlety saved the Senators of Capua, is accused of Treason.  
AFter the overthrow of Cannae, many cities yielded unto Hannibal, and in some of them the people rebelled against the Senators, as those of Capua did, where the Senate were in great danger to be cut in pieces by the commonalty, the which Pacwius foreseeing, being a subtle man, and of the number of the Senators, but better beloved and esteemed amongst the people then with the Senate, he determined to appease the people by a wile: Whereof consulting with the rest of the Senators, and they finding no better means for their safeties, they consented thereunto. Whereupon Pacwius feigned to detain all the Senators as prisoners in the palace, appointing certain Ploebeians there to guard them: then he said unto the people which were already assembled before the palace, I have the Senators our enemies in prison, and am of the opinion that all of them should be put to death: but to the end that the city may not be destitute of Magistrates, it behoveth that you yourselves do choose amongst you new Senators in the steed of the others which we shall kill, to the end that we may not be surprised unawares, either by the Romans or any other of our enemies, and have not such as may command and govern us. Then having a Catalogue in writing of the names of all the Senators, he said: First such a one must be killed (who was a man of great authority) name one amongst you who may be thought worthy to succeed in his place. Then the people began to look one upon another, and there was not found any that was deemed sufficient to take that charge upon him. Wherefore they began to accuse Pacwius of cruelty, and in the end they confessed that there was not men enough to be found amongst them worthy to be Senators, and therefore they concluded to leave the Senate even as it was. Whereupon the Senators were both delivered, and confirmed in their former authority. Yet let us suppose, that it happened, that one amongst the Senate (no less envious of Pacwius his authority, then joyful that he was saved by his subtlety) did long time after accuse him at Rome, affirming that he only induced the people unto this sedition, and that his intention was not to save, but rather to slay the Senators, and began his accusation in this manner:  
Undoubtedly such as suffer a wicked or vicious man to live in a city, do either first or last repent it, yet is it rather commonly too late: How much more than ought they to be sorry that suffer such men to obtain the government of the Commonwealth, and the honours only due to righteous and virtuous men, who for the most part do shun such authorities, because it is a hard matter to execute so weighty a charge well. For since the weakness of man is such, as even the wisest do mistake bad things for good, and good things for bad, until the effect of that which afterward happeneth doth make them know their error: How can vicious or wicked men be able to do any thing that is good? Surely honours are the true touchstone whereby the virtue or goodness of a man is known: for in authority virtuous men do manifest their goodness, as wicked men do lay open their badness, as Aristides, Epaminundus, Lycurgus, and others in all their authority did show that virtue was incorruptible: And Periander, Pisistratus, Lisander and others declared, how much ambition prevaileth over such as are not perfectly virtuous, whose example Pacwius was desirous to imitate, for being born in Capua a wicked man, and seeing that he was there in such sort suffered to remain, he durst well make claim unto dignities, and obtaining the same did afterwards aspire to be tyrant. For by how much they which are unworthy of authority, and yet do attain there unto, by so much the more doth their insolency thereby increase; and that in such sort, as they not only do presume the same to be due unto them, but also that there is no government great enough for them, and therefore such oppress even those who have most favoured them, which truly is a just punishment which the Gods sendeth upon those who favour the wicked, that even by the same themselves are oftentimes destroyed. And so is it justly fallen upon our Senators, who knowing the vices of this man, have not only permitted him to attain the most principal honours, but also by their negligence have suffered him to tirannise over the Senate and people, even to the danger of the lives of the said Senators; being so audacious as to affirm unto them, that he only was able to defend them from being hewed in pieces by the people: and afterwards by his rashness put all their lives in danger of the people's insolency. But what had it been if the people had resolved to do that which he counseled them unto? what assurance had he that such his folly should have come unto a good end? Truly that was even the least of his caro, seeing that it could not happen amiss unto him, for if the people slew the Senate, he should remain the prince of the people, and the matter falling out as it did, he should remain lord of the people and Senate together, persuading both the one and the other, that they were highly bound unto him: Whereunto the Senate was forced to yield, considering the authority which by their fault, he had gained amongst the people: yet this had been a small hurt if he had been contented that but only himself should have been king, but his actions declared that he would confirm the kingdom unto his posterity by the means of Hannibal, unto whom he not only brought his son Perolla, but himself did stay him from the kill of Hannibal, and from the procuring of the freedom of his country by this his most noble act. Finally this noble young man did very well show himself to be the son of a Roman matron, holding that noble mind of his mother: How could he choose but be grieved at the heart seeing that by his father's words (who rather ought to have exhorted him thereunto) his most courageous purpose was broken from the which this hairebraine man in all vild actions did not only dissuade him, but also constrained him to give it over, affirming that if he would not be ruled by him, he would advertise Hannibal thereof, yea & would cover him with his own body in such sort as he should not be hurt unless Pacwius were slain. Thus he alone did corrupt the faithful zeal which the child ought to the Romans and his country. I pass over with silence, how that he was the cause that Decius Magius was so evilly entreated by Hannibal in the presence of all the Citizens, and then afterwards clogged with chains to be carried to Carthage, if the gods had not succoured him better than this honourable person, who had such credit with Hannibal, that at his banquet was the second man at the table, and his son the third, and yet did not once excuse, but rather most grievously accused poor Magius to have always favoured the Roman faction. Thus hath this unhappy man betrayed his country four times. First when he put the life of the Senators to the discretion of the people: secondly, when he caused Capua to revolt from the Romans: thirdly when he made an agreement with Hannibal, and suffered him to enter into Capua: and four, when he kept his son from kill Hannibal. He will answer that he alone neither caused Capua to revolt, nor to receive Hannibal, I say he did, for under the colour of his protecting the Senate, no man durst gainsay him in any thing, except Magius who was punished therefore. If those who (without calling any stranger) do by no such execrable means aspire unto tyranny, are grievously punished, What torment then may be sufficient to be inflicted upon this wicked man? Who not content to have usurped the government, and called in a stranger for his defence, did also by threats corrupt the good nature of his son. Remember O you noble Romans that you have for less fault punished and driven away your kings, and consider also the causes why we cannot, much less will not be under any other than you, do us justice then upon him, who hath withdrawn us from you.  

The Answer.  
AMongst reasonable and virtuous men, all vices are odious, but above all, ingratitude is a vice most detestable, for it is the cause that many good turns are left undone: for even as the ivy causeth that tree to die about the which it windeth, and which sustaineth it, so an ungrateful man seeketh the death and destruction of him, to whom he is beholding for many good turns, which maketh a number fearful to employ themselves either for the particular good of any, or for the the public benefit of many. But the noble minds leave not for all that to do their endeavours, for even as the sum is nothing infected by the mud upon which it shineth, and as the slanders of the ingrateful can no way hurt the true virtue, which even in the midst of vices, shineth as the light doth in darkest places, even so this damned man, the more he thinketh to impair my reputation, the more doth he increase my renown. For first he saith, that I have obtained the chiefest dignities in Capua, it is then a sign that either I am virtuous, or else the rest of the Citizens that have advanced me to such authority, are all vicious: for every one favoureth his like, & repugneth his contrary. You say that I think myself a tyrant: Where do you find that tyrants do succour or save the life of such as pretend to be equal with them in power: can you deny that by mine industry the Senate was saved? Hath not the effect made the same apparent? You say that I brought them in danger, hazarding their lives to the discretion of the inconstant people, how is he brought in danger who already by his own fault is fallen thereinto? Do you call it a hazarding, to save men's lives? If you had known any other means more expedient, you ought therein to have given your advise? But that in extreme evils extraordinary means ought to be used: So I knoing that the evil proceeded aswell from the overgreat presumption of the Senate, as from the insolency of the people, thought to find out the fittest remedy: for each party, perceiving his error framed himself accordingly. Think you before I seemed to make it a question whether the Senators should live or die, that I had not first gained the chiefest of their enemies, and that I did not know the weakness of the rest? And as touching this point of the yielding to Hannibal, the authors of his receiving they did poison themselves, which taketh away the suspicion that any other was the cause thereof: How could I then be able to resist Hannibal more than you and others? True it is that I was second person in his banquet at the table, but the same was rather a sign that he did it to win me, then that I was such a one as you term me to be. For the subtle Barbarian, did not embrace those who did already favour him, but such as he would draw unto him: and the better to prove that true, my son whom he knew to be a Roman in heart, was the third man at his banquet, whom truly I confess I did dissuade from kill Hannibal, because it was a thing impossible, being always armed, environed with his guard, and chief because he evermore suspected my son greatly: So that the best that could happen by his rashness, would be but the death of him & many others, and it might be the utter subversion and ruin of Capua. What hurt then have I done preserving such a one as is most affectioned unto the Romans, and also in saving the city which could not fail but fall into their hands again: for all violent things as was the fortune of Hannibal are of so long continuance, but being at their Period, turn upside down in a moment. Therefore in such a time more wisdom consisteth in dissimulation, then in obstinate boasting, as appeared in that of Magius, which was nothing profitable unto any man, and besides it was not only hurtful to himself, but also Hannibal did thereby know the cowardliness of the whole Senate, and Citizens of Capua, since that before their faces they suffered one of the noblest amongst them, to be bound and carried away unto his camp. It was then that they should have resolved or taken occasion to have run altogether upon Hannibal, and to have massacred him, as myself and son were desirous to do, if we had seen any likelihood to have been seconded by any: but there was then no show of such courage in you, & the more you accuse me to have brought you in bondage, the more unworthy are you to be believed. Yet if it were so, why did you endure it? you will say for fear of the people: why could not you win or keep the people in obedience, as well as I? Surely because your ambition, and pride was more great to grieve them, than was your wisdom or policy to govern them. You will impute me for favouring more the Plebeians then Patrician faction: so was the like heretofore objected to the Fabians, who afterwards enterprised particularly to defend Rome from the Veians at Cremera, where they all died saving one, who hath raised up again their race, which is at this day so profitable to the Common wealth. To conclude, misery is alone without envy, wherefore it is not to be wondered at if thou dost vomit a thousand leasings against my virtue, long time guided by good fortune, yet for all that canst thou not say that I have aspired Tirantlike to rule, nor called the stranger, but the greatest hurt that I have done, is that I have saved you and others like unto you, amongst the good and faithful friends (such as myself) of the Roman Commonwealth.    

Declamation. 4.  
Of him which would usurp the inheritance of a Prince, that went to the wars against his father's will.  
THere was a Prince who forbade his son to go on a certain journey to the wars, threatening if he went, to desherite him. The son for all that went thither: wherefore the Prince made a nephew which he had, his heir, leaving notwithstanding a great revenue for his son, which is augmented by the new Prince. Nevertheless, shortly after he redemanded the principality, saying:  
I Having done nothing unworthy for a Prince or a gentleman, my father could not disherit me. Wherefore it is as fit for the father, in commanding, to be wise, as it is for the son in obeying, to be willing. What if my father (fearing to lose me) had forbidden me to defend the Church, or my country, Ought I to obey him in this commandment, being no less dishonourable and prejudicial unto himself then to me and our posterity? Verily I confess that fathers ought to be obeyed in all reasonable things, but when their commandments are to no end nor reason, they must be neglected; and after, as they may, obtain pardon; if of themselves they confess not their fault: beside, it must be distinguished what the matter is, and what it importeth. Indeed I will confess that I should greatly have misdone (my father or country being in war, or in any danger) if then I should have forsaken them for any thing that might happen, but when there was not so much as any show of danger, what hurt have I done, if in the wars else where I have served, to learn the better how to defend our own country? or rather if I made known abroad to strangers, and our borderers, that they should not so much as think to offend me, and not look for requital thereof; since that I did voluntarily upon mine own pleasure go to defend others? Tell me then wherein I have either offended my father or country by this gentlemanlike act, or whether you ought not yourselves to have accompanied me, if you had been as valiant as you should have been? but it is always the custom of dastards to cover their own cowardice either with the shadow of a certain obedience towards their parents, or by a show of wisdom, as sometimes also by a sign of their innocency, more superstitious than religious: saying they ought not to kill any man, or if they should as often have their hearts and courage conformable to their wicked wills, there could not be more cruel people in the world than they: Is there any in the world more desirous of revenge then women, and yet is there no creatures living more base and fearful than they: for as impossible is it for a noble heart to be cruel, as it is for a cruel man to be courageous: if you had not bewitched my father's understanding, he could not choose but have been very desirous to have left his principality to such a son of his own, as had made proof of his skill in keeping, as also in augmenting the same if need were: and especially being bound unto his people to leave them such a ruler: for princes are not or should not be other than fathers or tutors at the alest unto their people, whom they should after their edath leave to be guided by such a one as should maintain their laws and rights, and which should defend them from such as would offend them: wherefore not without reason did Pyrrhus' king of the Epirotes answer his children (who asked him to which of them he would leave his kingdom) that he would leave it unto him that should have the sharpest and best edged sword amongst them al. This valiant king did very well know, that such realms where the king is not held for a soldier, are always molested by their neighbours or by strangers: Have not we seen as much by proof? that whilst the Macedonians were under Philip, Alexander, and other valiant kings, yea even unto the last Philip, they were always in prosperity: but after Perseus was their king, they were subdued by the Romans, and Perseus being vanquished, was carried in triumph to Rome by Paulius Emilius. But why stand I upon such needless examples, seeing they are infinite and without number? Whether had the Romans ever finished their new city amongst so many envious and evil disposed neighbours, without the valour of Romulus their king? Finally if my deceased father had well considered of these reasons, and that he had not been badly counseled by you and such as you are, he had not disherited me, but should greatly have rejoiced to see, that during his life I endeavoured to make myself worthy to succeed him in his seat. I need not to make a doubt whether he might for any cause give the principality to you or to any other, since himself having received it by inheritance from my grandfather, and I being borne unto it, and not unworthy of it, aught to enjoy it as my due, and lawful succession; for he was no other than guardian and protector thereof: how could he then take it from me and give it unto you, who deserve the same in no sort, neither by reason nor by valour: Had you been so wise as you think yourself to be, to gain a dignity or an assured principality, you should have imitated some such, as it may be being less cowardly, but more wise than you, and knowing themselves not valiant enough by arms to win any authority, do become first begging friars, and so well behave themselves therein, as afterwards they become cardinals, yea and oftentimes obtain the Papal seat, in such sort should you have become a Prince; You I say who have neither virtue nor valour, but in your tongue, by the which you could so well persuade my deceased father to dishonour himself, and to wrong his only son, preferring you before him. But I have such an assured hope in the Emperor his sacred Majesty who is our judge, as that shall be restored which of right belongeth unto me, and I assure that but for the respect I bear to the same Majesty, I would do that, as you should know you ought not to usurp my government, but think yourself very happy in surrendering the same over to me, & not receive the punishment due for your rashness.  

The Answer.  
RAsh and unadvised may he be termed, who in the end of his reasons addeth threatenings in the presence of his imperial Majesty, whom he feigneth to respect, & upon whom such an injury redoundeth rather then upon me who am here under the protection of his said Majesty. But to answer unto this your deed, I say that it is not the act of a gentleman to disobey his father either whilst he liveth, or after his death, in desiring to take that from me which he charged me to keep by his last Will. Touching the first disobedience; Durst you be so presumptuous to understand the cause why your father did forbid you to go unto the wars? You were overbold therein, since he knowing your indiscretion and wavering mind would not trust you with such a secret matter: How many things seem advantageous, honourable, and profitable unto young men, which old men do foresee to be a manifest ruin? What do you know what they do keep in store for you whom you have offended in this war? Or if he who even by your aid is become more mighty shall use the same his power to your prejudice? For so did the Romans, who being succoured by their confederates, did first vanquish other nations, and then afterwards subdued those their confederates likewise: what do you know if your father foresaw the same, or a greater danger? If we are bound to believe old men, how much more than ought every one to believe his father, of whom (next to God) he holdeth his life and his being? And therefore they are double in fault which do not only give no credit to their words, but also do disobey their commandments as you have done: for if one way you shall lay the fault unto your frailty, which hindered you from believing the truth, and shall say it is man's nature so to do; Yet your disobedience added thereunto, doth another way make the same unpardonable. How many are there that have put their children to death for less fault than yours? It may easily be seen by the Hebrew, Greek, and Latin histories: As for example; Saul the first King of the Hebrews, would not he have put his son jonathas to death for tasting a little honey against the commandment of his said father, although he did it ignorantly? Epaminondas the Theban, did not he cause his son to die, for fight contrary to his commandment: did not Aulus Posthumius, and Manlius Torquatus Romans, do the like? what would they then (think you) have done, if their children contrary their will and commandment, had gone to the wars as you have done? Teaching them who were with you to disobey their prince, as you did your lord and father: and not content to have offended him during his life, will confirm and ratify your disobedience after his death, in resisting his last Will and testament: and to his great dishonour accuse him with want of wit. For less fault was Cham the son of Noah, not only disherited, but also cursed of his father for ever, yea and his posterity after him, who could not do with the faults of their father and grandfather. The Romans had not the power over the life and death of their children: So that but for such men as you, that law at this law had not been invented; for from the unjustice and wickedness of men, do good, holy, and righteous laws proceed: Wherefore it is a true Proverb, that offences beget laws, and afterwards those laws do discover and punish offences: for where no fault is, there law is not requisite; and where no law is, there can be no breach thereof: Whereupon S. Paul saith, That the law only made me know that to desire is sin. Your father did not prohibit you from the defence of your country, or the church, therefore you need not make a question of that which he did not, but of that which he did, which was his dissuading you from this war, and for the same cause he added threatenings unto his commandment. And notwithstanding for all this, you would not obey him, but it may be the great grief which your father took for this your obstinacy hath procured his death: and yet you say (although he hath not wholly disherited you) that he did you wrong to give the principality unto him, whom he knew to be best able to keep it: see how far the love of the father exceedeth all the malice that the son can imagine: for notwithstanding after this your fault, he thought upon your profit more than you deserved, and therefore he had a desire to leave you wherewithal to live like a Prince, but not the power to lose yourself and your people: Do you think the good Prince did not know, that in the wars vices are sooner learned than virtues? And that you were more inclined to wickedness then wisdom? For how can he be a lover of virtue, which despiseth both his father & his commandments? Moreover he knew very well that the country whose Prince is accustomed to the wars, is never in peace; and not being in peace it cannot prosper. Also he said, that as country's had long been kept, so they should be maintained, because every alteration or change is dangerous, and if there come any profit thereby, it is not in their days to be expected who are then living. Wherefore knowing that his predecessors and himself had more increased and conserved their government by wisdom, equity, and justice, then by arms, it seemed nothing reasonable unto him, to leave for successor such a one, who only seeking to be counted valiant, would forsake all virtue, which takes her beginning from the fear of God; and he which feareth him, is another manner of man to his father, than you have been to yours. Now since your father had all these reasons on his part, can you say he was not a good protector both of his people, and also of you: Likewise he knew that Numa Pompilius did more conserve and increase Rome by his religion and good laws, than Romulus did in the building thereof by his wars: the which to speak truth, are very necessary in every new government; but where the people do honour their Prince, and he is in love and peace with his neighbours, there warlike men are more dangerous than defensive, the which we may see by the Romans, who never were overcome but by their own proper forces, also the soldiers which were in the city were the destruction of the same. Therefore those princes do well, who have the means to send such people to exercise their fury in strange countries, for arms are always hurtful in a country, unless it be for the defence thereof. You say that because you have been in the wars, your neighbours and strangers will stand in fear of you: better were it for you to be beloved of them: for every one desireth their death, of whom they stand in dread. I would have followed you to the wars myself, if you had gone thither by commandment or consent of your father, unto whom it was grief enough to be disobeyed by his son, without increasing the same by the like offences of his nephew; for if I had followed your course, I should have thought that I might have given him just cause to think me none of his subject, much less his kinsman. God grant that this your ingratitude, caused him not to doubt whether you were his son or not. Touching Pyrrhus, his answer was as wicked as the end of his life was wretched. And Perseus was overthrown only because he trusted in his forces, provoking by his presumption the Romans against him. You say that I deserve not the government; 〈◊〉 your father being far more wise, hath judged me worthy, and you unfit. I will no further answer to your assertions, which do as much discover your impudency together with your contempt of God and good things, as also the malice which aboundeth in you; but will leave you to your own discretion: and will only conclude thus, that all those reasons above said, and it may be the least only more than all the rest joined together, have incited your father to give me that which I deserve, and I pray you compel me not to take that from you, which of my own liberality I have bestowed upon you. Touching that which I possess I do so much trust in the sacred Majesty of the Emperor, as I am assured that he will maintain me in my right, who am his most humble & most faithful servant.    

Declamation. 5.  
Of Spurius Servilius, who defended himself against the people, being by them accused for his cowardly fight at the hill of Janicola.  
NOt long time after that the Kings were banished Rome, and that the death of Tarquin the last king thereof was made manifest, the Consuls and Senate began to grow more proud and covetous than they were accustomed, and the people being on the one side overburdened with taxes, and on the other side overlaid with usury, and imprisoned for debts, they began to rise against the Senate, in such sort that they being in arms upon the holy mountain, they would in no wise be persuaded to departed, before there was granted unto them that they might have two Tribune's for the people; by means whereof, their insolency grew to that height, that when they had not war abroad, they troubled the Senate at home, intending t● set new laws abroach, and amongst others, the law called Agraria: and on the other side, the Senate resisting their demands in that behalf, they were cited before the Tribune's, and condemned sometimes into exile, and otherwhiles great fines set upon them: by reason whereof, some of them did voluntarily banish themselves before that judgement was pronounced against them, and others made themselves away by some kind of death before the pronunciation of the sentence: amongst whom was Coriolanus, who died in exile, and Menemus the son of Agrippa, who died with anger, being condemned in 200 asses, because in the time of his consulship, he aided not the Fabians who were slain at Cremera. Afterwards Spurius Servilius was accused, that he was the cause that the Romans lost the batiaile at the foot of the mountain janicola, against the Tuscans, who defended himself courageously against the Tribune's saying after this manner:  
NOt in vain did Plato say, that the common people are like unto the beast Polipus, which hath many feet & wanteth a head, by reason whereof not seeing the way which he holdeth, he overthroweth himself: in like manner the ignorant people do go on forward without any consideration, seeking their own overthrow whilst they imagine to give the Senate a fall: and that which is worst of all, they who ought to guide those blind men in a better course, are such as by force would bring them into the bottomless pit of confusion, or headlongdowne fall of rashness. It is unto you that I speak, O you Tribune's, yet no Tribune's, but rather seducers of the poor people, and scourges of the Commonwealth: Surely the Senate, and people, do now receive worthy punishment of their faults, the one having desired, the other having suffered you to be promoted to such authority. Truly worthy Agrippa did never do other harm to the Commonwealth, thinking to do good, then in appeasing the people with this condition, that they should have Tribune's appointed them; as if at the length the people knowing the confusion of their weakness, would not by the same means have acknowledged their fault: for without you they would have understood, that the Senate executing right and justice, (as it doth) is invincible, as depending only upon the laws, and the gods. O Romans, know you not that the kings have honoured, and in a manner submitted themselves unto them? And so long as they held that course, they were like unto the gods in honour, and prosperity: but after that Tarquin the proud, would have put down the Senate, he himself was exiled with perpetual shame, to the confusion of all his posterity: O blessed people, who then knowing what was needful for them, did endeavour themselves to hold up the Senate, not suffering so much as that any kinsman or favourer of the name of a king should remain in Rome, whereunto Collatine (the rooter out of kings, and one of the first Consuls, who was banished only because he was by name a Tarquin) was a witness, they having no desire to suffer neither king nor Consul of his race: Shall we then endure the tyranny of the Tribune's? Do you not say, O you people, that they would (if it were possible) abolish the Senate, that they might afterwards tirannise over you: for such is the manner of those, who of nothing do rise unto some dignity, as through pride and ingratitude, they do make themselves intolerable, which is to be seen by these Tribune's, who when they could not show their pride & ingratitude to Agrippa, for the short time he lived after their creation, have manifested the same to Menenius his son, being the cause of his death, with the grief that he took in seeing himself condemned by those, who not long before durst not presume to consort with any his father's servants: I say this noble Agrippa died so poor that he left not only so much as to bury himself withal, as it likewise chanced unto many others. Behold then in whom the ambition and covetousness remaineth, which you would impute to the Senators: who as a candle do consume themselves for the public good, whilst you (which were it not for the office that the Senate hath bestowed upon you, should oftentimes have no bread to put in your mouths) endeavour to persecute the Senate, and destroy the people. You accuse me to be the cause that the battle was fought so unluckily, under the mountain of janicola, I submit myself to the report of the Senate and people whether my endeavour were wanting. Menenius was condemned for not aiding the Fabians in the time of his consulship, and I for fight unluckily: as if the one & others fault proceeded not from the insolency of the Tribune's, who did so animate the people against the Senate, as hardly would they march under the Consuls: but who knoweth not that the soldiers never do any good service, if they love not their leader, who also can do no worthy act, if he be not thoroughly assured of the good will and obedience of his soldiers: but concerning the Fabians, they were cut in pieces in the field, before the consul was advertised that they were in any danger, yet was he condemned unjustly by you. Is it not also manifest that you by your crossing & hindering the enrolling the souldiosr, have been the cause for the most part that succour hath come too late: this is all the good that you do in the Commonwealth, O you Tribune's, plagues of the same: it is not before you (who are unworthy to take account of my actions) as I will justify, much less excuse myself: condemn me if, you can, I speak not to the end to dissuade you: I will not be ashamed to be the companion of so many virtuous men whom you have wrongfully condemned; but I do verily assure you reverend fathers, that as much hangeth over the heads of every one of you, until that the condemnation of such a one (not more loving to the Commonwealth, yet more happy than I) do provoke you not to endure any more the insolency of these heady fellows: who do only maintain their authority they have with the people, in quarreling with the worthiest Senators: and you O people, no less ingrateful, then ignorant, of the evil which threateneth you, be you full assured, that these men will bring you to that pass, that you will desire (but never obtain) that the Senate may be restored to their first authority.  

The Answer.  
IF the people should not have some better head than yours, it were better they had none at all, for although every one lived after their own fantasy, yet should it be less hurtful for them then to be led or governed by such a one as seeketh their destruction, and it cannot be said that the commendation or condemnation that the Senate deserveth by means of the election of the Tribune's, is rightly due unto them, because the same election never was allowed by their good wills, but being compelled, they consented thereunto, although in effect they were the cause that the people would both have them, and also obtained them: For they using the people more rudely than slaves it caused them to look unto their own safeties, and to take up arms and force the Senate to consent unto the choosing of Tribune's, to defend them from those who sought to tirannise over them: nevertheless you would on the contrary have us to serve the Senate, and to consent that not only they should have all the honour and profit of that which was gotten with the price of the people's blood, but also that they should devour the authors of their dignity, by imposition, and usuries, bringing them into captivity for debts, keeping them in prison and irons, and tormenting them at their own pleasure. Although you do not acknowledge, O you Senators, how much you are beholding unto the people, yet remember only when you had need of their valour to confirm your authority, or to defend you from the enemy, how friendly you could speak. When Porsenna king of Tuscan came to besiege Rome to establish the Tarquins therein, you then said that the people were oppressed, that it were reason to discharge them from taxes, that the custom of salt ought to be taken away, and to give them corn in common, since that they were at charge enough in begetting and bringing up of their children for the wars; but as soon as the siege was raised, this consideration and liberality did vanish away both together: King Tarquin being once dead, than began you by little and little to use those free people like slaves, so as nothing remained unto to them but the name of freedom, but as in greatest harms extreme remedies are sought, so had the people or else the Senate perished without the mitigation of the Tribune's, and it cannot be denied but that otherwise the misery of the people had always increased, since that amongst seven kings there was but one which was hurtful unto them, and now hardly can there be found amongst a number of Senators, one that is good or favourable unto them; or if any such be; yet dare they not make any show thereof, for fear to displease others thereby, and be called favourers of the people, as it happened to the Fabians, who rather desired to die in fight alone with the enemies, then to be odious to the Senate, and not to be able without danger to favour the people: tell us only whether you are rulers or lords over the people; and consider, that if you be their rulers, you owe them equity and justice, or if you will be their lords, you ought to favour and protect them, notwithstanding they can obtain nothing at your hands but by force: you affirm, that if we had not been, the confusion and weakness of the people would have made them acknowledge their fault: but you confess not that the people might sooner be able to make a new Senate, than the Senate a people, all these proofs are dangerous, because they are extreme, and virtue consisteth in a mean. The kings have honoured the Senate, so also have they not despised the people, for without them, the king could not be, and the first Senate was chosen from amongst them: if Collatine were banished for his name only, Why ought they not to be condemned, whose deeds deserve no less? Truly neither Consuls, Senators, nor Tribune's ought to be suffered, if they do not their duty: neither was it ingratitude to condemn the son of Agrippa, but equity, and as there are but a few Senators who die poor as he did, so are they nothing like the candle, but only in that they are too fat with the cost of the poor people, and with the danger of their lives; for the Consul's command, but the soldiers fight. Concerning this, that you warred unluckily, the blood of the dead, and the cries of the living, bear witness thereof: and truly he is not worthy to be a Senator, much less a Consul▪ who cannot gain the good will of the soldiers. lastly, we had not opposed ourselves against the enrolling of the soldiers, if in due time the demands had been thought reasonable: and therefore either you must justify yourself, or else are you worthy of double condemnation, because your talk tendeth to sedition, in desiring to move the Senate and people against us, who are no common officers, but most holy Magistrates, appointed to keep in peace both the one and the other: also the time will come when we shall grievously punish such unlucky Soothsayers and Prophets, who do seditiously foretell and prophecy evil to the Senate and people, like as you now do.    

Declamation. 6.  
Of a maimed man, who for smiting an officer, is condemned to lose his hand, but it cannot be proved with which hand he did strike him.  
A Man that was maimed of one of his hands, did strike an officer of the Magistrates, for the which he was to lose his hand: it could not be proved with which hand he did strike him, he said that it was with his left hand, which was the same that was maimed: notwithstanding the judge would the sound hand to be cut off, alleging these reasons following.  
IT were better that laws were never made, than not to be executed, for the law that is not kept, maketh the Magistrates despised, and so consequently maketh men to do evil, but the meaning or gloss of the law is to be considered, as also the quality of him which breaketh the same together with his intention: for if a man kill another in his own defence, or he which stealeth, being by extreme want urged thereunto, such a one is in less fault, than he which killeth a man of set purpose, or he which stealeth, having no great need: It behoveth us then to consider that the meaning of the law is, that he which smiteth an officer must lose a member, and not that which is maimed already by some other means: but concerning you, who are the breaker of the law, you had little cause so to do, being lame, because such men should rather keep themselves from strokes, then desire to strike any man, because they are the weakest: also you were not constrained thereunto, and therefore you were rather to expect for more hurt, than any good to happen unto you by the same blow; whethereby it may be seen that anger is an enemy of good counsel, and forbearance is the best means to bridle rage: for if you were not wronged by the officer, you deserve double punishment for striking him: and if you were injuried, yet the badge of his office might have served for a warrant that there was a Magistrate, of whom you might have had right, if you had accused him boldly, alleging that he which was to redress wrongs, had wronged you: but in not doing so, we must come to this that you have done, which is, that you have beaten the Magistrate his officer: you say it was with your left hand, the which is very unlikely, because few men are left handed, and you especially cannot so be, seeing that if you were such by nature, yet were you constrained of long time to use your right hand, and very hardly could you ever remember your left hand, unless it were when you stood in any need thereof: if you say that it served you only to strike withal, it is a sign that you had a will, or that you were accustomed to strike, which is a kind of offence. Finally there is sufficient proof that you have strooken, and you confess the same, but you cannot prove that it was with the left hand, neither is there any likelihood at all of your saying, wherefore if you have no other proof, you may account yourself for a condemned man, for the law intendeth that you shall lose a hand: how can one now take away that which you have wanted long since? bethink you then to prove your saying, or suffer the law (which you have mistaken) to be executed upon you, to give example to others, that hereafter they be not so rash. For to cut off your unprofitable hand, should be rather a pleasure then a punishment to you.  

The Answer.  
THe zeal which I bear unto the Commonwealth, maketh me to confess my great prejudice, that laws are both to be kept and executed: and I abundance, but do you verily believe, O you Censors, that your imposition can in any sort be the overthrow of Mamercus? Do you not know that the more virtue is oppressed, the more she doth flourish, much like unto saffron, which the more it is beaten, the better it groweth? Hath not Mamercus been greater than you already, and may he not so be again? What might then befall if he were so full of revenge as you are? Do you think that it would be any benefit unto the Commonwealth? Doth he want any means, friends, or favour, as well of the Senators, as of the people? No truly: but thanks be to the Gods, he neither hath, nor ever had any wicked intention: this one thing which aboundeth in you, is wanting in him. But what hath moved you to persecute him so cruelly? Wherein hath he offended you? Forsooth he hath abridged the term of your authority, is not this all? Hath he not more abridged his own? Desiring thereby to make you know, that offices are not to be sought for: but when any one is called thereunto, he ought to think upon nothing, but the good of the Commonwealth, and for the advancement thereof, he must neglect his own profit, the which virtue is seldom in any man, but if any such be to be found, then were it good for them & their family that they should not continue long in office, and if they be otherwise, it were far better for the Commonwealth that they never had office at all: I dare not judge or say what you are, seeing you desire the office for five years, not considering whether you may live so long or not, but this is the mischief, that your ambition, I will not say avarice, doth deceive you in such sort, that without any other respect, you hate even those who take care, both for the Commonwealth and for your benefit, and you must not think although Mamercus be esteemed a noble gentleman, that he will always pocket up these your slight faults, and leave the matter at this stay, whereby you may be emboldened to abuse either his, or any other man's patience hereafter; for henceforth we do appoint that those which have been the former Censors, shall be the correctors and judges of such as shall newly come forth of their office.   

The Answer.  
WE do confess that the Dictator should be such a man as you say, but you did not or at the least would not tell what else was requisite for him to do, which is, that he ought also to consider to what end he was created, whether to repress the Tuscans, or to abolish, or abridge the authority of the officers, appointed by the Senate and people, as if he alone were wiser than all the rest. There was never any Dictator made, unless it were to withstand those casualties which could not otherwise be redressed: We do not stand upon the necessity of this abridgement, but do only demand if it could not be done unless a Dictator should by this deed embolden the people every day to attempt new matters? And give an example unto the succeeding Dictator's, to do other things, than those for which they are ordained: for of all things as well good as bad, the beginning is the chief point, so that it is most dangerous to be the ringleader unto others to do amiss, because suddenly they allege the example of him that went before them? For the greater his authority is, that was the first inventor of any such matter, so much the more pernicious is the same unto the Commonwealth: therefore we have not done amiss, if that should happen which you say, because those which would follow his example, should also remember that such presumptuous acts do not so greatly profit, as they are supposed. But we have not burdened him for this cause, but only because it was our duty so to do, and we are no more bounden to give an account of our actions, than he is of his, the which seem no less contrary to the Senate, then favourable to the people, who are over insolent of themselves already: and although we will not say that Mamercus intendeth by this popular favour, to perform some bad act: yet who shall hinder some to think that by such like means a man may imagine to aspire unto some such unjust matter: I will not say to be tyrant, for there is more than one way to attain unto the same: as there are many sorts of tyrannies: Wherefore it is the duty of a good Citizen to show that he doth quite detest every act that may breed any suspicion. Therefore it were no wisdom to come unto this extremity of the deserts, either of his or our actions; for the disputation thereof would be no less difficult, then dangerous: so that it were better to defer that until you have obtained (as you say) that we must be adjudged and corrected by our predecessors, in the mean season let us now pretend that our authority is more than your understanding doth allow it. We are not ignotant of Mamercus his virtue, neither can we but know what favour, kindred, and means he hath, nor hath he offended us, but rather the Magistrate, and the Commonwealth; for having abridged the office, he taketh away the men even then, when they might do most good therein: for there is no man so perfect, that at the first committeth not some faults, or at the least wise doth not execute a charge better, after he hath been exercised in the same some years, then when he first began to use the same, the which neither he himself, nor you can with reason deny: nevertheless, there is no malice in us, but rather in you, that do not only accuse us, but threaten us, aswell with the future authority of Mamercus, as also that we must answer our actions unto those that supplied this office before us: but considering that threatened men do live long, and such as do most fear, do sorest threaten: and because threatenings are for the most part sure weapons to defend the threatened, we will make no account thereof: and the rather because they come not from him, whom you pretend to have the greatest wrong, who is over wise to use such speeches, and though he should, yet could we answer him well enough, no man knoweth better than himself whether his wealth be increased, and whether his imposition be over burdenous or no: if he do either affirm it, or you do prove it, we will answer you, and if we have heretofore spared him, it was because the time did so require it, and for some other respects, wherewith we are not to acquaint you: Finally Mamercus during his office, did that which he thought good, and we during ours, neither have, nor will do any thing but that which is good, honest, and reasonable, and we are not to answer you for our actions. God grant that the people do not believe that Mamercus hath abridged the office of Censors, for the same end and purpose as Spurius Melius extended his liberality of corn unto them.    

Declamation. 9  
Of the husband that slew his wife, for having lost two of his children, the one by fire, the other by water.  
A Certain woman as she was washing and wiping her little son, did see her young daughter fall into the fire, whereupon being over hasty to help it, she let her son fall into the bowl of water, wherein he was drowned, hereupon her husband happened to come in, who presently slew her: The woman's kindred apprehended him & accused him unto the justice, saying:  
THis wicked fellow not being content with two mischances, would needs add thereunto a third mischief: O what grief ought ours to be, that having not only lost our young nephew, and his mother, but being justly provoked thereunto by this damned deed, we must likewise procure the death of this wretch, which in an unlucky hour was our kinsman: seeing that he alone must be the dishonour of all our lineage, dying as a public spectacle by the hands of a hangman, according to his deserts, because he hath been worse than a hangman to his poor wife, whose only company he deserved not, being so chaste, honest, and virtuous, as she was, bearing a sincere and devout love unto him who was her butcher, so as I dare say and believe that this soul of hers, no less loving, then innocent, doth yet lament in another world, not only in that she was martyred by him, who ought to have loved, cherished, and defended her from all others that would have burther, but also taketh pity upon the most just misery of this murder, and as whiles she lived, she always preferred his contentment before her own, so now she would think herself happy, if it were possible, that she might once more die to save his life: as did the charitable Alcestis to save her most dear Admetus: but I would demand of this wicked man, wherein his wife had deserved to die by the hands of him, who had sworn to keep and defend her from all injury? Alas, an over vehement charity made her commit a fault, which as it fell out was great, but to be blamed for it, she is not: For a motherly love and a natural charity (seeing her daughter fallen into the fire) made her forget that she held her son in her arms. Alack her sorrow might very well have sufficed, not only for a penance, but also as a most sharp punishment for her offence, the which this cruel monster would never consider, but heaping mischief upon mischief, shame upon shame, hurt upon hurt, murder upon murder, had a desire with the price of his life to slaughter her, who loved him more than the balls of her eyes, even the same who desired not to live, but only to please him: but there are some men (of which number this is one) who the more the poor women are obedient unto them, the more froward and cruel do they become towards them, never cherishing them but with reproaches, blows, & threats, so that they being always possessed, or overcharged with an excessive fear, do commit a thousand faults, because their minds are never free, to think upon that which they are to do: and who need to doubt but that the fear of this cruel man made the poor innocent forget that she should not have hazarded the loss of one of her children, to have saved the other: Wherefore if therein there was any fault, he is to be blamed for it, and notwithstanding, he hath made her endure a most cruel punishment therefore, is there any love more great than that of the mothers toward the child? Had not her pitiful lamentation for her fault committed, been a sufficient penance for the same? Alas noble judges, the more strange this case is, the more great is our grief, which maketh us to doubt, whether our complaints may be heard; and if they be heard, whether they are understood; if being understood, whether they be felt; for as much as hardly may they be felt by those whom they concern not so nearly, because another man's hurt doth never seem so heavy unto any, as it is to himself. Wherefore we do thoroughly assure you, that we can better feel our harm then express it: for when the mind is occupied with passion, the spirits must needs fai●● whereby our senses are stopped, and our speech hindered. Consider with yourselves, O you judges, if it be possible, how great our misery is, and let our silence suffice to manifest that which we cannot utter, be you then as justly severe, as this accursed man is wicked and cruel.  

The kindred of the accused do Answer.  
ALthough you do employ all your skill together with your malice, and ignorance, which you would hide, yet is the same more manifest than any other thing. You think that you have showed a great cunning in persuading that it is fit to put a man to death, who would willingly be dead already: to what end serveth so much vain prattle? Seeing that he denieth not his fault, and that the judges do know better than you, what punishment he deserveth: to what end is it to accuse such a one as accuseth himself? Where do you find that it is reasonable to vex the afflicted, with injuries? Or that which is worst, to increase his affliction? It is you that would heap mischief upon mischief, shame upon shame, hurt upon hurt, and finally you would increase the number of the dead, without considering that the same passions which made this dead woman careless of one of her children, to save the other, did also stir up this poor disgraced man, to do that which he ought not to have done: I pass over with silence, the occasions, that she might more than once, have given him to have used her ill, the which he having hitherto patiently resisted, hath always endured, considering that he could not offend her, being the half of his flesh, without hurting himself: but at the last being provoked in such sort as he was, blinded with a rage, no less extreme than just, he hath done that which was no sooner executed, but he would have revoked it with the price of his own life, the which he yet doth offer, to make satisfaction for his fault, for the which he is so penitent, that he will think himself happy to finish his grief by death: but even as justice suffereth not those offenders to die, who would afterward live honestly and well, so is it not reasonable to put those to death that desire the same: and like as they do not excuse, or dissemble with those, although no great accusation is brought against them, that be malefactors, so also ought not their sentence, to be the more severe for the multitude, or sharp and cruel words of the accusers, but moderating the rigour of the laws, according to the equity of their conscience, they ought to judge rightly, not laying all the fault upon him that is accused, nor also wholly acquitting her that is dead, seeing that she is not altogether faultless. I will not here allege any more reasons upon conjecture as you do, of the love that she did bear unto her husband, for he might say, that he loved her as well, for against such as we do best love, are we most extremely angry, when the cause is great: but let us put the case that he was testy, froward, and cruel, as you say, ought not she then to have hidden her fault for a time, and after have caused some other to have told him, or rather have hidden herself, to avoid his first anger? You will say, that her passion did blind her judgement: this excuse serveth as much for him as for her: but this is the mischief, that the most part of women are never ready nor advised in doing any thing but mischief, Whereunto they apply their wits so much, that they are to seek in doing good: for if it were otherwise, a man should not see a woman naturally more ready to frame an excuse, invent a deceit, or a leasing, and other such like remedies then a very wise man could do, Whereof also they make their boast: Finally none can know their subtleties, malice, forwardness to mischief, and slackness to goodness, so well as he that is married, and yet they that have been often married know best, for if those which are once married, deserve to be placed in the ranks of such as are diseased, the others may be accounted in the number of those that are mad. Touching your other reasons there is no need to answer them, saving only that the woman's friends and kindred have their ears continually full of the imperfections of their husbands, the which when any mischief happeneth, they can tell how to augment them, without considering that their own wives do say as as much of them: Lastly, it may please the judges to have more regard unto this poor accused soul, then to the insolent babble of his spiteful accusers: for who can be more worthy of pity, than he unto whom life is more bitter than death.    

Declamation. 10.  
Of Caius Servilius, who is accused to have slain Spurius Melius, that had relieved the people during the famine.  
AT Rome during the time of the sixty eight Consulship, the famine was so exceeding great, that many of the common people did throw themselves into the Tiber: then Spurius Melius, one of the order of the knights, a very rich man, having great acquaintance in Tuscan, caused a great quantity of corn to be brought from thence, the which he did freely distribute among the people for a gift, so that by this means having gained the people's love, he aspired to the kingdom, whereupon being warned before the Dictator, he not only refusing to come, but also moving the people to sedition, was slain by Caius Servilius Hala, master of the knights; who shortly after was for this fact accused as an offender, by one of the Tribune's of the people, who said:  
HOw can a city be termed free, or well governed, where it is lawful to kill a Citizen under the colour of a crime, before he be not only condemned, but also before his cause be tried, or his accuser known: and what man was he? Surely a man who in such a time being dead, aught to be raised to life again, if it were possible: a man noble by his virtue, abounding in riches, the which he knew how to distribute, not only according to the true order of liberality, but with a wonderful and more than human charity: but what charity can be more great than imitating the gods, to preserve the poor from death? and especially from hunger, which in truth is the horriblest death of all others: how wicked then is the nature of those, who desiring not to follow his virtue, have borne him such hate, that being provoked to rage at the report of one only accuser, (and it may be suborned) have deprived him of life: some will say that he would not appear before the Dictator: was there no other means to cause Spurius appear, but first by placing guards through all the streets, and afterwards to send unto him the master of the knights, to tell him that the Dictator demanded for him, and consequently that he was accused for aspiring to be tyrant? What man in the world is so resolute, that he will come on the sudden hearing that he is accused of treason? That knoweth a Dictator to be expressly chosen to condemn him, the which officer is never made, but upon special cause, and to repress the enemies to the Commonwealth? That beholdeth a master of the knights, chosen of purpose to carry him away: Who would not be marvelously astonished at this, because the more innocent a man is, the more amazed is he in the like extremity? for it is very manifest, that those that are culpable, foreseeing the dangers wherein they adventure themselves, do also foresee to provide for remedies, or at the least, when dangers do happen, they are least astonished: but this man being as much afraid, as innocent, endeavoured to fly, to the end he might have some leisure to consider from whence this so sudden mischief proceeded, or to avoid the first rage of the Dictator: who having his ears cloyed with accusations, and his mind occupied with passion, and anger against the accused (as he did very well manifest, sending to seek him with such fury,) he despaired to find any place reserved to hear, much less to weigh his just excuses: was there no means to send for him after a more modest order? It seemeth no; because they would find an occasion to do that which was done. If the commission of Servilius was to slay him? There was no need to expect any further course of law. If his authority were but to fetch him, he could not kill him, without being in very great fault, although Spurius had been an offender? For having pursued him so near, he might as well have taken him, and brought him away with him, as murder him. Is it possible that a master of the knights was such a coward, that he durst not, being armed on horseback, lay his hands upon a man running away? But I pray God that this be not true, which the people do murmur abroad: to wit, that Servilius doubted of the truth of the accusation, wherefore finding in his own judgement, an occasion to deprive the party accused, of audience, and a means to justify himself, he served his own turn fitly: to satisfy the malice of the Senators, and the greedy avarice of the usurers, who by the liberality of Spurius, lost the means to finish the devouring of all the poor people: for such is the nature of the malicious, envious, and covetous people, the one kind of which, do think themselves undone to see another man prosper; the other imagine that they are disgraced, if any one attain unto honour; and the third sort more worse than all the rest, do think that to be lost out of their own goods, which they cannot wrest forth of the substance of another: wherefore such people are hurtful to all men, and worst of all to themselves, for they take as little pleasure in that which they have of their own, as in that which they have not at all: so that they possessing nothing but riches, do never any good but when they die: for than is their unprofitable treasure set at liberty, and the Commonwealth is freed from their greedy devouring. I pass over with silence that some do presume, seeing Servilius triumph thorough the city, with his sword all bloody in his hand, that he had some particular malice against him, and the more constantly is it affirmed, because he might as well have taken him as slain him: others do say that this block was thrown in his way, to confiscate his goods, and they say that if it had been otherwise, all the Senate together had more cause to appease the people, than Spurius alone; for they knowing how he was by duty bounden, had no occasion to stand in any doubt at all of Spurius: but it is pity when men will not only do no good themselves, but also persecute those which do it. God grant that this which the people speak so rashly concerning the Senate, be not very true: but as touching Servilius he cannot deny, seeing that (besides the boasting that is made thereof) there are store of witnesses, that he hath killed Spurius, and not one will say that the other made any resistance, wherefore we demand that justice may be executed upon him who hath been the cause that the same was not done upon Spurius, if he were culpable, and if he were not, than we require it, because he hath slain an innocent.  

The Answer.  
AS he whom I have slain was not guildesse▪ so also I have not only seen justice executed upon the offender, but have further done it myself, because I could not other wise choose; for it is manifest, that he is a malefactor that denieth to come to his answer, and he doth sufficiently resist and make his defence, that flieth from him that is sent to bring him: touching the proof, how can those be witnesses against him, whom he had already suborned? Especially such as assembled themselves to rescue him from me, if I had taken him alive; I will not say those which even now called him their God, and preserver of their lives, a matter illbeseeming the Citizens of Rome, who ought rather to reward me for having rooted from amongst them such a one, who like unto the fisher, and fouler, (that with a little bait, deceiveth both the fish and birds, deprivining the one of their liberty, the other of their lives) would also do the like by them: but it is commonly seen that as the belly hath no ears, so also hath the stomach no discretion, the which is apparently proved by the confederates of Spurius: wherefore it belongeth to you noble citizens, that are not bounden unto him, and which have not sold your liberty for a morsel of bread: to you I say it belongeth to consider what I have deserved, having slain him, who with the help of a few faint hearted fools would captivate your sweet liberty: as for that which the Tribun saith of the people's mourning against the Senate, if he himself be not the inventor thereof, yet it is a sign at the least, that the people which use such conference with him, do very well know, that he taketh pleasure therein, for if there were no ears that delighted in hearing slanderous speeches, there would be few slanderous tongues: but how could I bring him alive, seeing the people do yet so greatly affect him, because time which changeth all things, hath not as yet changed their minds, but rather increased the same. If that be true which the Tribun doth rashly say against the Senate? A man may easily term Spurius another manner of man than you say he is, although the crime had been less dangerous than it is: but when the matter concerneth the preservation of our liberty (seeing there was no respect had unto the sons of Brutus being faulty, nor unto Collatine being innocent, and partly the author of the said freedom) why should Spurius be respected? And as you say that the Dictator is not chosen, but in great extremity, his election doth sufficiently witness the extremity wherein the Commonwealth remained: true it is, that I told him, wherein he was accused, to the end that if he were guiltless, he might be less afraid to appear before the Dictator, and being guilty, have the better means to think upon his excuse; but he had no desire to take the benefit of my advertisement, but as one already condemned by his own conscience, he endeavoured to fly away, for a true sign, that he is a malefactor which distrusteth as much in himself, as in the judges: if he had not been faulty, why was he so fearful? Seeing that innocency doth always assure those that embrace her: but we may see by him, that Tyranny is like unto a fair and pleasant palace, that is high enough, but yet without stairs or steps to come down without breaking one's neck: even so those which by pride and ambition think to attain unto honour and profit, do for the most part meet with shame and confusion: he needed not to fear that he should not have had time and place to excuse himself, seeing that there was never any Citizen condemned in Rome, if his cause were but only doubtful: if his meaning were good in distributing the corn, why did he not come to declare the same unto the Dictator? Finally if he had been as innocent as he was culpable, I am not in any sort to be blamed, seeing the Dictator hath not only allowed, but also publicly lauded my deed. I list not therefore further to dispute of his innocency, or his offence, but rather the accuser that did accuse him: And it appertaineth unto the Dictator to defend me, having performed my charge according to his commandments, seeing that even when I had done it, he allowed my fact to be good: and worthy for a master of the knights as I was. But who will any more obey the Dictator's, if when after their authority is expired, it may be lawful for any man to sue those which do accomplish their commandments?    

Declamation. 11.  
Of the wife of a Tyrant, who having slain her husband, required his son for a recompense.  
THe law appointed, that whosoever killed a Tyrant, should obtain of the Commonwealth whatsoever he demandeth, except only the government thereof: Moreover, the same law saith, that after the death of the Tyrant, all such as were nearest of kin unto him, must likewise die, although they be nothing culpaple: Whereupon it happened, that the wife of the Tyrant (not knowing any cause why) did slay her husband, and required for recompense of her fact, that her sons life might be saved, and exempted from the foresaid law: but the Citizens declared that the same could not be done, saying:  
THe same law that promiseth you a reward, doth deny you him whom you demand, seeing that it commandeth expressly, that all the kindred of the Tyrant should die: wherefore if any other than yourself had slain him, you should have been one of the same number, yea and the first of all, as she that was nearer unto him then any other of his kin, and so consequently the chiefest partaker of his Tyranny: but yet to favour you, we will not now dispute upon the cause of your kill of him, whether the same was done through hate, anger, or for some other particular reason, without any regard at all of the common good: for although no act, be it never so good, is to be performed by any wicked means, yet do we allow your fact for good and laudable, and you may induce us, to believe that you have done it in a good zeal, and for our benefit, so that you will not desire to save the Tyrant's sons life: for in preserving it, you shall not have slain, but revived the Tyrant, neither yet ended, but prolonged the Tyranny, because it is more likely that a young man will live longer than an old: for surely, although the Tyrant's son be never so well disposed, yet shall we always suspect him, can there be any greater tyranny then to stand in doubt of it continually, seeing that of all evils, fear is the cruelest part, for without it death itself should be a sovereign good: Truly a known Tyranny, were far less grievous than a daily fear to fall into it would be, for the Proverb saith, That much better is a known mischief, than a doubtful pleasure: how much then ought we to prefer a certain good, before a manifest evil? of the which good we can never be assured, so long as the tyrant's son doth live: for the desire of revenge is so hot, and the covetousness to command and rule so vehement, that hardly may he forget who was his father: also it is to be feared that you would never have slain the fire, if you had not thereby hoped one day to see the son in his seat: which would be worse for us, then if the father were yet living. You will say, that the banishment of him whom we fear, might very well put us out of doubt, the which can in no sort be so, because our enemies which might help him with their favour and counsel are abroad. Coriolanus being banished, would have destroyed Rome; had not his mother by her wise persuasions prevented him, so also would this our enemy not be the first, that of an exile would aspire to be king, for such as are far from their country, experience and want, maketh them much more industrious, and resolute; so that so long as he liveth, we shall be like him that holdeth the wolf by the ears, who no sooner is let lose, but he doth mischief, and to hold him still, is both irksome and dangerous: for as the wolf hurteth those whom he seethe, before he be spied, even so this race of aspiring Tyrants infect the righteous minds of those which are not well acquainted with their nature. But would you willingly incur this blame to have slain your husband for some other cause, rather than for the good of the Commonwealth? we have no such bad opinion of you yet, let your good deed then be sound, and without spot, rather than to demand such a thing, whereof unto you there would come exceeding mischief, and unto us most great danger; like as you know, that the law saith, that the Tyrant killer should be rewarded, so you may remember as well (as the reward) that it also saith, that all the tyrants kindred ought to be put to death. If you have slain your husband, neither for love of the law, nor for the good of the land, you are greatly to be blamed, and to be punished for murdering your husband: but if your zeal be good, suffer then that good may come thereof. You will say, my son is young: true it is, and therefore he may the more easily grow worse then better, as those do who are by nature borne vicious, and they are such for the most part as are borne of tyrannous parents, as his father hath been proved, and so shall you likewise be, if you obey not the law. Finally the father and the mother have been both very resolute, the one to usurp, the other either to suppress or desirous to renew the tyranny: until now we do not know whether of the twain was meant: but we know very well how dangerous the preserving of a son borne of such parents is, whose qualities he may very well follow: resolve you then to put us out of doubt (in ask such a reward as may be granted) that to a good and virtuous end you murdered the tyrant, or else prepare you to receive such punishment as a woman deserveth, that for her own particular passions hath slain her husband.  

The Answer.  
HOw now my good lords and friends? Are you desirous that in you this detestable Proverb should be verified, which saith, That there is nothing more unconstant, unthankful, and more exceeding insolent than the common people, so soon as they perceive themselves free from fear? It should seem then by this, that tyranny, keeping you in awe and so consequently in obedience, would be more profitable for you then liberty: but God forbidden that so it should be said of my countrymen: I had rather die a thousand times if it were possible: and seeing I have not spared mine own husband for the good of the Commonwealth, never think that I would spare my sons life, yea or mine own unto your prejudice. But I fear that we thinking to do well, both you and I shall be blamed: I of cruelty, and you of cruelty and ingratitude together: for greater cruelty is it to slay an innocent, then to pardon an hundred offenders; consider then that her son who hath set you at liberty, hath never offended the Commonwealth, but as young as he is, he hath always seemed to abhor the cruelties of his father, who being put to death by my hands, the child hath very constantly shown himself to be more glad for the benefit of the Commonwealth, then sorry for the death of his father, and with a great contentment hath he left off his gorgeous apparel, and his accustomed delicacy, to conform himself after my will, like unto the rest of the Citizens: Why then my very good lords do you desire the death of an innocent, which showeth himself so affectioned towards you? And such a one as may one day do you good service? wherefore do you not as well consider the good which he may do unto you, as the mischief which you imagine to be done already by him? But the hate which you did bear unto the father, you turn upon the son; when you say that he is the son of a Tyrant, why do you not as well say that he is her son that slew the tyrant: If you will not love him for my sake, at the least let your hate be as little as your love, and condemn him not, before he have offended: let him live a while, and if he commit the least offence in the world punish him with death: lo than the gift which I do crave for the reward of my desert, not the life of my son, but the delay of his death: you say that it is not you, but the law which requireth his death: it is to be considered, that all the interpretations or gloss of the laws, ought rather to tend unto clemency then unto rigour; and principally when the effect thereof tendeth unto cruelty: for this law which saith, that all the kin and adherents of the tyrant must die, aught to be understood of those which have aided and assisted him to exercise his tyranny, or that have been his partakers therein: but wherein might this poor innocent have offended, who knoweth not as yet what tyranny meaneth? you must then remember my lords, that he is her son who hath made the zeal of her country strive and triumph over the name of a Princess, over the delights of the world, over sovereignty so greatly desired of women, the which they themselves are unapt to obtain, over wealth, the which they so much esteem, and finally over a husband's love, and a vowed faith: and that which is not the least, esteeming all impartial pleasures as base, in respect of your general profit. Remember that I have deprived myself of my husband, that I have slain my child his father: what zeal would you have more great towards our fellow countrymen? But if there were the least show in the world that he would ever be prejudicial unto you, I would not let for any thing to sacrifice him by and by for your safety: but seeing I am certain that he will become a very good Citizen and a faithful lover of his country: following the same example which I have given, believe me sirs that I had rather die than he should, as also I will not live any longer after his death. Will you justly deserve this infamy O you Citizens, not only to have been unwilling to give the promised reward unto her that redeemed you? But also to have been the cause that she suffered a death more sorrowful than the miserable Hecuba? Alas, alas, why do you not as well believe that he may prove good as his mother, which is the surer side? and that he may not be so bad as the father of whom you have been revenged by the hands of her, who more than any other was bounden unto you. You must believe that the gods are just and pitiful, and in this only point of pity, men may follow them, and make themselves almost like unto them, as the Proverb saith, That one man is a god unto another, and sometimes a wolf unto a man; take you then that part which is most commendable. O courteous lords beware that you incur not the anger of the gods & the reproach of men, and that which is worst of all, take heed lest your ingratitude, or your over great desire of revenge, be not the cause to make you lose the good wills of such, who in some other urgent affairs may aid, or do you some worthy service: For ingratitude and cruelty are abominable both before God and men.    

Declamation. 12.  
Of him who under colour of obeying his father, displeased the priest that administered the sacraments unto him.  
A Certain honourable lady being at the point of death, made her last will and testament after the desire of her curate: who had more respect unto his own particular profit and the commodity of the church, then to any the benefit of her kindred: whereupon so long as the lady was able to say I, he always added something or other unto the will: when neither any of the sons, nor the father himself either would or durst gainsay him in any thing he did, for fear of troubling the mind of the sick woman: but after her death and that the funerals were indeed, there was some motion made to have the said will reform: whereunto the curate would in no sort consent, but compelled the heirs and executors to perform the same, unto their great grief. Some small time after, the husband of the deceased chanced to fall into the like sickness, and the curate handled him after the same sort, as he used his wife, even unto his last gasp, so that the poor man because he would leave the world in peace, did still answer I: the which the eldest son perceiving, (who but a little before was returned from the wars) he began to be exceeding angry: and imagined which way he might be revenged of the Priest: Wherefore coming near unto the bed, he also began to increase the number of the masses, and dirges, whereunto the patient still answered, then in the end he said aloud, Is it your will that the curate be presently thrown down the stairs? the sick man said I, again, not understanding what his son said: the same was no sooner spoken, but the son took the Priest by the neck, and throwing him down the stairs, broke one of his arms. The curate accused him, and protested that he had wronged him, saying:  
WHat treason may be more execrable than this, being committed under the colour of pity? I was called to comfort the sick, to administer unto him the holy sacraments, & to admonish him of his souls health: when this ungodly fellow approached near unto the bed, and feigning to assist my devout intention, did wickedly betray me, as is manifestly of be seen by the maiming of my limbs. The deriding of the sacred relics, and abusing of the patients will, might well have sufficed, without further adding thereunto this outrage. Who shall henceforth be the pastor, that dare instruct the diseased to have a care of their salvation? Seeing the thanks which they have, and the recompense which they receive therefore, is the assaying to break their neck? Very true is that, which is commonly spoken of such as follow wars, which is, that they never take pleasure in any thing, but in doing mischief; and that they as much despise those things which are sacred and holy, as they do esteem such as are profane. This lewd fellow hath not only sticked to slander his own father, at the hour of his death, but also careth not although he be damned for ever. O child of perdition, dost thou not know that at the last gasp consisteth either the salvation or damnation of men? How many are there, who having always lived godly, do damn themselves at the last hour; and others having been wicked, that by their end have been saved? The good Dismas who was crucified at the right hand of our Lord, showeth us an example of the one, and judas an Apostle of the same Christ, is a figure of the other: how durst thou than trouble the last thoughts of thy father by thy insolency? Especially outraging him whom with all thy might thou oughtest to defend, seeing that we do here represent the Divinity: for the Pope representeth God, the Archbishop the Pope, the Bishop the Archbishop, and the Curate the bishop. I require then that the wrongs done unto God, the Pope, the Archbishop, the Bishop, and to my person, may be repaired, and that he which hath committed it, may be punished according to his deserts: to the end that all such insolent persons, that will not bridle their affects, for the reverence which they own unto God and his Church, may by his example beware that they incur not the like punishment.  

The Answer.  
DO you call that Treason, to perform the same thing, the which you heretofore by law compelled us to do? That is, to fulfil the testators last Will: Now it is to be considered, that in all things we do, we must begin at one end; as for me, I began first with the last, and the rather because the same not being set down in writing, I feared that it might have been forgotten, or least by deferring of time (which is very often the loss of occasion) I might be hindered from effecting the last commandment of my father: as also because he long before made a sign unto me, that I should rid him from your company, who had no other talk with him, but of temporal matters, that he might wholly apply his mind unto God, and therefore he granted unto every thing which you demanded; thinking that the best way to dispatch him from your importunities; but had you had your own will, I believe you had been there yet to trouble him: wherefore I am not to be blamed, if I had a desire to do this last service for my father, unto whom I am more bounden then to you: for I remember very well, that you yourself (at such times as in my youth I came unto you to shrieve) did always enjoin me to do whatsoever my father and mother commanded me, without exception of any thing: and if otherwise I did, I should be damned: think not then master Parson, that for respecting you overmuch, I will be damned: Moreover you have so many times preached unto us, that a man must honour his lather and mother, and that it is the first commandment that hath any reward promised upon the earth: how could I then better honour my father, then having compassion to see him so importuned, to deliver him from such a pain, according to his good commandment? If you had taken as great care to the patiented, as you did to the Notary, you should very well have perceived how he made a sign with his head that the same should be done which I did, though not so soon as I ought, because I would first be informed what his will was, which so soon as I understood, I suddenly put it in effect, without suffering it to be set down in writing, for fear lest others seeing this testament, should also put in practise this last point, when you gave them the like occasion: could I then offend you when I thought upon you chiefest benefit? Also I cannot believe that I have slandered my father, in yielding such obedience as was due unto him, and giving him the means to apply his last thoughts unto his true salvation: if there be any fault done, it proceedeth of this, that I did not exactly understand the progression of your dignity, for I did think that men so worthy, aught to approach more near the perfection of him, whom you say they do represent: This is all wherein I may have failed, for the rest I refer me to the judgement of those, which are of more knowledge then either you or I am.    

Declamation. 13.  
Of him that would disherit his brother, because he had smitten his father.  
IT was an ancient law, that whosoever did smite his father should be disherited: whereupon it chanced that a certain young man being drunken, did strike his father, who imputing the fault unto the wine, both dissembled the matter, and pardoned the offence: but the father being dead, without making any will, the younger brother would have his elder brother to lose his inheritance, because he had offended the law, saying:  
YOu know O you just judges, that which the law hath appointed for those that strike their father, I require the execution thereof, and it must not serve his turn to say that the wine made him to do it, for such an answer in steed of an excuse, would make him double in fault, and he is as well worthy to be excluded from any part of his mother's good, as he is to lose every whit of his father's inheritance: the one because he did beat his father, and the other because he useth to be drunken, for the drunkard is more worse than a brute beast, which never drinketh but to maintain life, but it seemeth that the drunkards liveth to no other end but only to drink. What mischief happeneth not thorough this vice of drunkenness? The Partriarke Noah was the first that planted the vine, so also he was the first that was drunk therewith: what happened unto him thereby? Nothing but only shame, anger, and displeasure; Lot also being drunken, committed incest with his daughters: Cambisses being reproved by one of his faithful counsellors, because he was commonly drunk, did with an arrow strike through the heart of the said counsellor's son, saying, can he be drunk that shoots so fair a shot? That great conqueror Alexander slew his Foster brother Clitus, coming from his banquet, and afterwards being sober, he would have slain himself for sorrow: but who knows not that such fruits come of drunkenness? Wherefore they being double in fault which commit wickedness thorough that vice, deserve double punishment. And now to return unto our first matter, who will not say that my brother ought to lose his inheritance, seeing that he hath strooken our father, because the same maketh a doubt whether he be his son or no; and if he be his son, as I believe he is, the greater is his ingratitude, wherefore there is no need to stand upon my father's dissembling or pardoning of the wrong, for as much as I should likewise have consented thereunto: but I will still say that it is fit to hang up the vessels which do contain such pestiferous liquor, and that there is too much favour shown unto those, who for drinking overmuch, and afterwards beating their father, are but only disherited.  

The Answer.  
YOu blame me for an offence, the which I know not whether I did it or not, or if I did it, at the least it was against my will, but were the matter as you say it is; Yet were it not to be attributed to my fault, because I did not know him whom I offended. Truly I confess that I have misdone in drinking too much, but you do most wickedly sin through malice, in going about to alter the meaning of your deceased father, and to disherit your brother, that never did you any wrong. Wherefore do you desire that a father's kindness should be abused? Why do you make the world to doubt whether you be his son, and my brother? That he is my father his pity hath declared, but your ambition and extreme avarice makes me doubt whether you be my brother, for brethren ought to love together, and help one another, yea if need were to die one for another, as did Castor and Pollux, Agamemnon and Menelaus, with divers others, whose fame shall be immortal; for this affection wanting, undoubtedly they are no more brethren, but far greater enemies than strangers can be. I confess also that wine is the cause of great mischiefs, and therefore I will keep me from it, but you yourself, do bring in a sufficient excuse for me, in saying that so many great parsonages, being overcome with wine, have committed very great faults, as well as I: as touching the double punishment which you would have, your passion maketh you to give that counsel, which never heretofore hath been allowed for currant, but tell me who hath made you more wise than our father, and those that sit in judgement, that you will make new laws? Seeing that you have received no offence thereby, and that our father hath made no complaint thereof at all. It is manifestly to be seen that covetousness, and not a sons love, inciteth you against me; for if such a zeal did stir you up, why made you not your request during our father's life? But you knowing very well, that he was not, or at the least thought himself not offended, have stayed for his death to overthrow your brother.    

Declamation. 14.  
Of one that to escape his enemies, took away a Priests horse byforce.  
A Crtaine man flying from his enemies that would have slain him, met with a Priest on horseback, whom he prayed to sell or lend him his horse in that extremity, the Priest flatly denied him: the other took the horse by force: and afterwards having escaped, he sent home the horse again together with a good reward, nevertheless the Priest accused him of theft, and said:  
THe chiefest point of justice, by the which the Commonwealth ought to be maintained in peace, is that every one may quietly possess without any let or disturbance, that which he hath justly gotten: As for me I will prove very well that I have bought, and truly paid for my horse, nevertheless it hath been violently taken from under me, even when I had most urgent cause to use him, for I was going to confess and comfort a sick person, who through the fault of him that took away my horse, is dead without confession: behold now by this means a soul in danger of eternal damnation, for it is the burden of sins, that causeth souls to be lost: in like sort I was in double danger of my life; one way, if his enemies had known that he had prevailed by my horse to escape from them; another, for the fear that he did put me in together with the force that he did use in taking away my horse, as also because I was compelled to go well three long hours a foot before I could find any house, whereby I caught such a quartine fever as will easily bring me to my grave, for as the quartine fever purgeth and maketh young men to grow, so doth it kill such old men as I am: but although all this were not likely, yet ought justice to be done, as an example for thieves, otherwise shall no man be able to travel the country: if such a one be pardoned as robbeth a Priest, why shall not he hope for the like that robbeth a Merchant? You will say I have restored your horse, and rewarded you with a gift as much as the horse might be worth; the matter consisteth not therein, but in that you did take him from me against my will, with violence, and threats; But in restoring of my horse, have you raised the dead to life again to receive confession? And am I cured of my disease? Especially if your enemies had overtaken you, who should have restored me my horse: Seeing I knew not who you were, but only he which rob me. I require and hope that such justice shall be extended towards me as will make others by your example to respect those, who are recommended unto them from God and the church.  

The Answer.  
IF I had taken your horse through malice, covetousness or other vild meaning, your reasons were to be esteemed, but I did pray you either to lend him, or sell him unto me to save my life, yet you being more hard to be entreated then the boisterous wind or raging waves, had no pity of my distress, whereupon your cruelty constrained me against my will, to commit that which in no sort I had determined to do, but what is he that will not endeavour by all the means he can to escape death? Assure you that in such a danger I had no leisure to consider the inconveniences that might happen, nor to think upon either of our deaths that might have chanced by this deed; for I might have died without confession as well as the other, and in a worse sort than by a quartine ague, whereof you fear to die. I confess that I have offended you, and am ready to make you such amends as shall be thought meet, but I could do no less, without losing my life at the same time. If one will do much to defer his death a little while, why should it not be lawful for me to save my life altogether? The which for a need, I would bestow for you. Finally necessity hath no law, and that cannot be termed a robberrie which I have done: for there is nothing so well done, if one will have respect unto the chances that may come thereof, but may be thought ill done: for human actions are such, that in all things, there is more danger than assurance: therefore our actions are not to be judged by the event thereof, but by the intent of them that do them: what would be said then, if being willing to draw you forth of a pit (wherein you might happen to fall) I should chance to break your neck, Should I be guilty thereof? How many men are killed by the Physicians, thinking to cure them? Are they punished therefore? No truly, because their meaning was not hurtful, no more also was mine, as I have declared by my liberal restitution: but consider that necessity maketh many things lawful, and that it is so, it is written that David (being compelled through hunger) entered into the temple, and he and his man did eat up the show bread; The which was lawful for none but the Priests to eat: also many times sacred and holy things are gauged, & sold through necessity, how much more lawful than is it for a man to take a horse to save his life, with a good intent to make satisfaction? although you are a sacred parson (sir) yet I hope you are too wise to believe that your horse is one, so also I would not have the Proverb to be verified in you, which saith, that never Priest nor woman could either pardon an offence, or acknowledge any service done unto them: this were a vice far unfitting your profession: but finally seeing you will in no sort be satisfied with reason, you are as much bound to believe the judges, as I am to endure that which it shall please them to adjudge me, and so shall I neither be bound to you in any thing, nor for any thing, seeing you have brought me to the extremity of the law.    

Declamation. 15.  
Of him that after he had bargained with a soldier to kill his enemy, did forthwith repent him of the fact.  
A Certain man bargained with a soldier to kill his enemy, but afterwards repent him, and forbade him in any sort to touch him, to the end to hurt him: and this he did in the presence of two witnesses: the soldier notwithstanding went on forward and killed him, and afterward was taken and condemned to die, but the Attorney General accused the man that had hired him of this capital crime, saying:  
SHall it then be tolerated in a Commonwealth that any man may hire one to murder another, at his own pleasure? As if there were no justice to determine their controversies and quarrels? If such faults may be excused, or winked at, who shall be any where in safety? If it be an offence but only to imagine such a wickedness, how much more than is it to commit it? And so much the greater is this fact, as that he was not contented to offend himself alone, but that he hath likewise provoked another to be partaker of his villainy, especially with the price of his money, moreover it is a capital crime when one enemy killeth another, how much more heinous is it then, when one goeth about to cause him to be murdered by such a one, as not only wisheth him no hurt at all, but also by such a one as scantly knoweth him? What infection? What plague? What abomination can be more great in a Commonwealth then this? If whoredom be punishable, the which were it not for the reproach thereof, is rather an increasing, than a loss unto the Commonwealth; What punishment may be severe enough for those as will infect the same with such murders? If this crime be not sharply punished, every one will boldly enterprise upon any small occasion to cause his adversary to be slain if he can, and if he cannot, he will say then that he is sorry that ever he thought to do so bad a deed; as this man saith: One would not believe that such a wickedness would be invented amongst men, or if a man did know it, hardly should it be believed: but those which do believe it, ought also to know, see, and believe the punishment due unto the same, and the mischief that for such heinous crimes doth happen unto those that commit them. This man saith, I did forbid him in the presence of two witnesses, commanding him not to kill mine enemy; as for me, I think but suspitiouslie of those witnesses, for if they had been honest, and just men, they would have found the means to warned the other, wisely to beware of him that had already conspired his death, as also of him that was to take away his life: or else they should have advertised the justice, that there was a murderer in the city, that for money would undertake to slay men, and by that means, there had not happened so great a wickedness: and that which is worst, it is very likely that after he had forbidden him, he did again command him without any other witness, but the money given to do the deed: but were it not so, yet is it very evident that you are the author of this mischief: and the cause of the death of two men, therefore it is but right that you should make the third, for he which maketh such a bargain once, hath either done it before, or will do the like another time, so that it is best to prevent the worst by cutting you off betimes. You say that he ought not to have killed him, seeing that you forbade him; but you should not have induced him to kill him, lest afterward you might not be able to revoke his will at your commandment, for all the while that he sought for the means and opportunity to do the murder, an hatred against the same man did enter by little and little into his heart, which you did afterwards think by your forbidding, might be wholly rooted out at one instant: but the same is not easily to be done, for men are naturally more inclined to mischief, than goodness, so that they do always more hardly forego it, and especially such as of long time having followed the wars, are used to kill men, so that they do as it were thirst after human blood: wherefore you ought to have believed that after you had persuaded him to act the murder, it was not easy for you to dissuade him from it, & so consequently you should not have persuaded him, much less have given, or promised him money for the same intent: but you should have remembered that the pleasure of revenge lasteth but a little while, and the joy that cometh of mercy endureth for ever: Moreover that for the most part in seeking to revenge us upon another, we do find our own destruction, wherefore it is better, and the surest way to leave the revenge unto God, who is just, and knoweth the hearts of all men. But if desire of revenge, or to have right of your enemy, had so greatly urged you, you ought to have had your recourse unto the justice, and so to have had him chastised, without any danger or dishonour unto you at all: or else if you would have needs chosen a worse course, you might have determined to have taken revenge yourself, without making another man a murderer for you: and it may be, that even then, when you had repent you of the fact, you had been as little able to have withholden yourself from doing that which you had determined. All these reasons above said, do make your trespass the greater, and I see not any of them that may make it seem lesser, so that it seemeth very reasonable, that the offender should be punished, to give an example unto all those which have the like wicked desire.  

The Answer.  
Truly I confess that I have greatly sinned against God: but as for the world, our thoughts and minds are free, provided that they stretch not to the affecting of mischief, so that I am not by justice reproovable, much less punishable: for to sin is incident unto man, but to persist in sin is devilish, the which I have not done: But knowing that repentance cometh by divine grace, I would not seem to neglect it, but showing that it had taken effect in me, I forbade the murderer not to hurt mine enemy; if he for any particular quarrel hath slain him against my will, what could I do therewith? You say that I ought not to have persuaded nor bargained with him to do it, it is true, but the Evangelist saith, are there not four and twenty hours in the day, Wherein a man may fall by the temptation of the devil, and rise again by the grace of God? even so did I fall and rise again, as the like may chance unto every man, seeing we are all conceived in sin; and by that means (as yourself affirmeth) more naturally inclined to do hurt then good: so that it is not a small virtue, to repent before a man commit a mischief. David of whom God said, that he was a man after his own heart, and that he should wholly obey his will, what wickedness I pray you did he commit? And nevertheless by repentance be obtained pardon and grace: we must not say that all those who have been somewhat badly minded, are wicked men; or that which is worse, notorious offenders, as you say; for if it were so, the most part of men should be such, and it may be, you yourself that accuse me so sharply, should not be free from crime. As touching your assertion, that I am guilty of the death of twain, and that I ought to be the third, I utterly deny that, for as much as the first man's death is rather happened through his own misbehaviour than my malice, for if he had not done me wrong and outrage, I should never have imagined to procure his death, and having not thought it, I had not spoken unto the other, who knowing him not, would not (after my forbidding him) have taken a new occasion to kill him: but who knoweth whether he hath slain him at the instance of some other, and will not confess it? Knowing that if he did, yet he should not escape unpunished. Finally he truly confesseth, that I forbade him to proceed any further therein, and that afterwards I never spoke to him thereof: how can I then be guilty? Seeing that I cannot be so, although I were the cause of the mischief as you say: for as much as mine intention was not so, wherefore we must judge, not according to the chance or success of actions, but according to the meaning of him that doth them: otherwise for the most part, when the sick do die, the Physicians should be blamed: or he who having an intent to kill a man, and should launch his impostume ought to be praised, the which cannot be, for when the intent is wicked, the fault is no less so long as it lasteth; but the wicked intent ceasing, the crime doth end together with it. Wherefore, if I did amiss, in persuading this man to kill mine enemy, I did well in forbidding him to proceed no further in the same. Touching this point, that whereas neither the witnesses, nor I have advertised the other; There are many men so bad to be dealt withal, that one cannot advertise them of any thing, without danger of great reproach; so also was it not reasonable to accuse one unto the justice which had not as yet offended, also they were no more than witnesses, that I did forbid him to hurt mine enemy, but yet they knew not what had passed before between us. Moreover the remembrance of the short pleasure of revenge, and the everlasting continuance of the joy of mercy, had made me repent that ever I had a desire of revenge, wherefore I did remit all unto God, without seeking redress either by justice, or any other way. If then this misfortune be fallen upon him for his sins, or otherwise, I am not to be blamed, and there is no reason which may make me an offender, seeing that all the foresaid reasons, mine innocency, and good meaning is proved, according unto the which I require to be judged by the equal doom of our just judges, who do very well know, that Socrates himself confessed that he was inclined to wickedness, as well as to Philosophy, but that by virtue and the good spirit, he resisted the wicked desire, as I have done thorough the grace of God.    

Declamation. 16.  
Of a woman that would forsake her husband, because he stood excommunicate.  
A Certain man was excommunicated and accursed for disobedience to the church: whereupon his wife would needs be divorced from him, but he would not restore her marriage good, but alleged these reasons:  
Have you not promised me before the Priest and the assembly of our kindred and friends, to be my spouse, and lawful wife? And never to forsake me for any chance whatsoever? Have you not always been partaker of my prosperity? Wherefore will you then abandon me in my first adversity? As for me I will not let for any thing that may happen, to esteem you for a very honest wife, but I know not what others will think of your deed: for as much as the custom of honest women is, never to forsake their husband in any matter, nor for any thing, but they do still abide constant with them in love and unity, and they do observe the faith which they have promised, when they were not only made companions, but even the one half of their husbands: seeing that men cannot, and much less ought not to separate those whom God hath coupled together by marriage, which is the most ancientest, most holiest, and most approved by God of all other whatsoever: for God himself did institute the same, not in the world, but in terrestrial Paradise, even when man was yet in his innocency, and afterward he honoured this holy estate with the first of his miracles that he wrought, at the marriage in Cana of Galiley, where he turned the water into wine: Moreover you must consider, that God took from man the substance whereof woman mass made, to the end that she might thereby be bound not to forsake him; wherefore Saint Paul saith, that woman was created for man, and not that man was made for woman: in like sort the words of our God himself doth witness the same, when he saith, It is not good that man should be alone, let us make him therefore an help; what liberty then hath the woman to forsake her husband? Although it was by the woman her provocation that man sinned, and was justly cursed by the mouth and power of God, yet would he not for all that separate them, but gave them hope of salvation, if they remained together: For he saith, that like as by a woman sin came into the world, so also of a woman, should he be borne which should overcome sin and death. Saint Paul also biddeth the believing wife to abide with the unbelieving husband; saying: Woman what dost thou know whether thou shalt save thy husband or not? Wherefore then will you forsake me? Whether it be by right or wrong that I am sequestered from the church, yet am I not utterly excluded from the same: time may make it known whether I deserve to be excommunicated or not, and although I may have deserved it, yet contrition, and God's favour cannot be denied unto me: now is the time that you ought not to forsake me, (not so much as with your eye only if it were possible) were you but such a wife as you should be: Truly a wife can give no greater token of her chastity, then by showing a perfect friendship, and an inseparable love unto her husband: for they are shameless and immodest women, that do change their love, according to the fortune of him whom they feign to love: how many have there been found even amongst modest women, that have with a marvelous constancy continually loved and followed their friends, as Thisbe, who followed her Pyramus, and would live no longer after his death, Briseis followed Achilles; Ariadne, Theseus; Medea, jason; and the concubine of Alcibiades, he being slain between her arms when she could not better provide for him, she wrapped him in one of her best garments to bury him: will you then be much less constant, then unchaste? will you imitate and be accounted like unto Clytaemnestra, Thebes, Helena, and other bad women? Do you not know that such as are good, are always honourable even after their death? As Alcestis, who willingly desired to die to save her husband Admetus his life; the famous Iphias seeing her husband's body burned, would in no sort forsake him, but leapt into the same fire, and was burned with him. Hipsicratea because she would not forsake old Mithridates her husband, did cut off her fair hair, and being armed, did always serve him as his companion in the wars. Cornelia also never abandoned her Pompey, but followed him into Egypt where he was slain. Octavia the sister of Augustus would have followed her Marc Anthony in all places, if he would have suffered her: & although he loved Cleopatra, yet so long as she lived, she maintained him in peace with her brother. Triaria the wife of Lucius Vitelius, did also accompany her husband in the wars, she being armed as he was. What shall we say of Hersilia, Hiperminestra, Laodemia, Oenone, Clita, Arganthona, Democrita, Gumilda, Caia, Valeria, Terentiana, julia, Arthemesia, Panthea, Sosia, Tarsa, Paulina the wife of Seneca, Portia, Turia, Sulpitia, Aegeria, Alcione, Procris, Camma, Sara, Michol, & an infinite number of others, which are all famous for the great love which they did bear unto their husbands: wherefore do you not covet to be of the number of these? Seeing that my disgrace offereth you the means to make proof of your love and faith towards me, lose not this occasion, bad for me, but good for you, your glory may be a comfort to mine affliction. I do not withhold your marriage good through covetousness, but to keep you from doing that thing which may redound unto your dishonour, and I would not in any sort that it should be said that I was consenting unto it, and I protest before God and men, that I do it for no other cause at all: for I am not ignorant how much all women are importuned, especially such as are known not to abide with their husbands for any great love; but as I have said, I will never consent that it shall be reported that I have been the cause of your folly. Wherefore I remit all unto the judges, without any further speaking of the matter, being to stand to their censure whether I am to restore your marriage good or not: the which shall be a small loss unto me, if I may be so good cheap rid from her who loveth me not at all.  

The Answer.  
I Should think myself happy in hazarding but only my goods, and life to remain with you: but when the question concerneth the soul, we ought to consider, that we have nothing more precious, seeing that the same is none of ours: but God hath made it immortal to govern this body, the which ought to be wholly obedient unto the soul, that we might afterwards by the only help and grace of God, restore the same unto him unspotted, if it were possible, the which I cannot do if I remain with you: for all those that do but only speak unto such as you, are guilty, except they do only speak to convert you, the which hitherto I could in no sort do: but how should I do it? When neither the exhortations of the church, nor yet your excommunication both together, were able to turn you? That which Saint Paul saith, that the believing woman ought to remain with the unbelieving man, is nothing pertinent to this matter, for more faulty is the Christian which sinneth maliciously of set purpose, then is he which sinneth of ignorance, being yet uncalled of God. I do well remember what I have promised you at our marriage, and I will perform it, so that it be not to the condemning of my soul and that it is so, I have always shown; that duty which an honest wife oweth unto her husband, and am yet ready to continue the same if you do return again unto the bosom of the church, and then you shall truly know that I will not forsake you for any occasion: I am not also ignorant what the worthiness of marriage is, and I would not have you think that men do separate me from you, but God himself, for as much as he is head of the church: I do confess that the woman was made for man, but for all that it followeth not that she ought to damn herself for him. As touching the hope which you do show you have to return unto the church, it were better that it were too soon then too late, for than should I have no occasion to departed from you, and I do promise to turn unto you when you shall be absolved. There is no love wanting in me, but there lacketh goodness in you, because you remain obstinate. I cannot be termed in the number of those that have left their husbands without cause, but my greatest grief is because I have too just a cause, and I believe that Alcestis, Iphias, and the other ladies which were truly virtuous, would have done as I do in the like case as mine, had they lived in these our days: for even as it was an honour and virtue in them, to do that which they did for their husbands, so likewise should it be but a shame and a sin in me not to forsake you. The same which you say provoketh you, not to restore me my marriage good, induceth me not to leave you, so that I may abide with you without offence and discredit, as I would not also that any one should think that I were consenting or partaker of your obstinacy, no more than you would be thought to be consenting unto my separating, and under this false colour, you would keep back my marriage good. I do advertise you that I will rather forego it if it be not add- always procure them enemies, and do make quarrels in public places, to the greater danger of honest people than their own. But I would to God that I had been dead before now, at the least with my husband, seeing that life is more bitter unto me then death: and my greatest grief is, because I am not only harmed by this Homicide, but as many of the noble kindred which he and I have, are greatly interressed in it, many of the friends whom he favoured are damnified: the poor hath lost much thereby, for he was a good alms giver; lastly, the Commonwealth is weakened, losing such a Citizen who lived so well, that he had many friends, and not one only enemy; that did pleasure many, and never displeased any. Consider then you righteous judges, what punishment is to be done upon him, who depriving us of so many benefits, hath been the cause of so great mischief.   

The Answer.  
IF men's actions ought to be judged, not according to the event of the same, but according to the intent of him that doth it, I cannot in any sort be blamed, for I did never know this man whether he were honest, or dishonest, wherefore seeing I neither loved him, much less hated him, I had no desire to do him either good or hurt. But since by misfortune it is so fallen out, that being constrained to defend myself from those who sought to kill me, he hath had a blow both against my will, & unwitting, mine enemies are more to be blamed than I, for they are the cause thereof: Wherefore ought I then to bear the punishment thereof? The sorrow that I have had because this fault is happened by my hand, is sufficient enough, although it was done against my meaning, without that I should be further troubled for the same: and were it not that my wife, and my children, (whose livings I do get) could not live without me, I had rather die then live, having been so disgraced by you, to have deprived you of your future hopes and your present happiness; but if it be a cruelty to cause the innocent wife and children of a guilty man to suffer, what is it then to take away the life from the wife and innocent children of such a man that is no ways faulty? For it is sufficiently manifest, that this woman which accuseth me of crime, not knowing me no more than I do her, is carried away with her passion: seeing that also she doth altogether condemn my fact without having any respect unto the innocency of mine intent: I will not say for my defence, that her husband hath rather been the cause of his death than I, seeing that he would needs pass by such a place where many men were fight; for not only they which are wise and well advised do shun the like meetings, but also fools, children, and the very brute beasts do fly from them: as touching the criminal conjectures, that it was a thing done of set purpose; the sharp pursuit of mine enemies, do sufficiently excuse me, and if there be any other proof, more sufficient than hers of such a fact, truly I will condemn myself as worthy of death, but being otherwise, I cannot be so: where she saith, that I ought not to throw stones at any man, I answer that he which would judge of that, it were fit that he did prove the like danger as mine was: to affirm also that to have many enemies is a sign of a wicked man, is a very absurd judgement, for it is often seen that the good are hated as well as the bad, and that which is worst, It is of the wicked, that the good are hated; so that they are in far greater danger, and very often constrained to defend themselves: even so it fell out with me. But who was, or ever shall be milder than Socrates? And who had more wicked enemies than he? who never ceased to slander him, even to the procuring of his death as an offender. What shall we say of Photion, and of Aristides, likewise of Solon and Lycurgus, and of the great Scipio Africanus? I pass over with silence, our Saviour Christ and other Saints, lest I should profane their holy names, in placing them amongst other men. I am not be alone then that hath enemies, neither aught this mishap impair my reputation, or make my cause the worse in any sort. Finally, there is no fault so little that cannot be greatly aggravated, if any man will seek for circumstances as this woman doth, who would prove the Commonwealth and so many persons interessed, that it seemeth by her speech that her husband was immortal: but I demand if he should have died of an apoplexy, or some other sudden death, whether should not the loss have been all one? But it is the manner of women to make the wrongs which they receive, seem great, esteeming those which they commit, very little: wherefore it were superfluous to answer her tedious accusations, which is the cause, that referring myself as well unto the mercy as to the equity of the judges, I will attend their just sentence.    

Declamation. 18.  
Of Sergius, who fought against his enemies, without advertising his fellow Virginius thereof, and therefore is not aided by him.  
SErgius and Virginius, both equal in authority, were captains in the Roman army, before the city of the Veies. Sergius was encamped on that side where the Tuscans might come to relieve the besieged city, and Virginius on the other. Now it happened that Sergius was assailed of the Tuscans, and fought with them, without requiring aid of Virginius, so that part of the camp was thereby discomfited: he being returned to Rome, accused Virginius for not aiding him, and said thus:  
WHat profiteth wisdom, courage, and dexterity in a commander, when envy alone is far more able to hinder him, than all these virtues together are able to further the advancement of his service, that desireth to profit the Commonwealth? Even so is it happened unto me, for although Virginius and I did both together employ all our best means to besiege and take the city of Veies for the honour and profit of the Senate and people of Rome, yet were we never able to do any service of worth, but on the contrary we received dishonour and hurt by the only envy and ambition of Virginius. Nevertheless what have not I done to allure him unto kindness? and to persuade him to be careful of the safety and honour of the Commonwealth? I have always given him the chiefest honour, and held him not as my companion; but as the only General commander of the enterprise; yea and leaving unto him the place of most advantage, I did encamp myself both where the greatest danger, and most concourse of the enemies was; thinking by that means not only to induce him, but also to bind him more straightly, (not unto my aid) but unto the common good of the whole army, and his own honour, yet what have I gained with all this duty, and true humility? nothing at all, but only thereby increased his malice, pride, and ambition. I therefore considering with myself how hardly two Generals in one army do perform any enterprise fortunately, and how on the contrary, by the diversity of their opinions & wits they do oftentimes not only procure one another's mischief, but also sometimes, put the Commonwealth in great danger (as Terentia Varo did at Cannae, when he gave battle against the opinion of his Colleague) did rather desire yet further to abase my authority in respect of his, honouring him as my superior, in all lawful things; but all was vain, for as much as those actions which do serve to gain the love of such as are modest, do increase the pride and insolency of those that are proud, for they do attribute that unto cowardliness, which is done by modesty and wisdom: which men Virginius desired to follow, for he (seeing that I to gain his favour, did oppose myself unto the greatest danger for his security and defence) did presume that I did not this noble act to induce him unto the like aiding of me, but that I did owe him this honour; whereupon he did not only forget that I was his companion, but also he would not perform the duty of a good General: for how can he be a good General that seethe any of the inferior captains in danger to be overthrown, and will not send him aid? Paulus Emilius ceased not to fight, but did willingly die in the battle, although that Varo began the same against his advice, the which I have not done: for it is well known that I would not fight against your will, seeing that I encamped in that place to no other end, but only to make head against the Tuscans, if they came to molest the camp, to raise the siege, or to hinder our enterprise: yet nevertheless you had rather suffer the Commonwealth to be hindered, then to afford me your aid in so great an extremity, especially seeing that by that means we might happily have ended our enterprise: for in succouring me, the Tuscans had been discomfited, and no doubt the besieged could not have chosen, but of necessity must have yielded: but you rather desired my loss and dishonour, then to have your own profit and honour joined together with mine, which had been but a small matter, if all the Romans had not been therewithal greatly hindered. The gods forbidden that I should say, that you had intelligence with the enemies, but I am very sorry that you give occasion unto many to suspect the same, others to presume as much, and some constantly to believe it: for you being very well known to be both valiant and noble, it may be supposed, that without some particular respect you would not have suffered, not only the Commonwealth and your Colleague to be endangered, but also you could hardly have endured the sight of the enemy, without an extreme desire to fight with him. Truly Marcellus made many Sallies and Skirmishes against the mind of that great Fabius, but for all that, he never left to aid him when need was; so that by the wisdom of Fabius, together with his zeal unto the Commonwealth, they were named, he the buckler, and Marcellus the sword of the Romans; whereby it is apparently seen how happy and fruitful the unity and agreement with Colleagues is, whereunto I have with all my power always exhorted you, yet was I neverable to obtain this good at your hands, either for myself, or his pride, which he would attribute unto me: but it is the common custom of the wicked to slander others with those vices which they know to be in themselves, and they imagine that of necessity others are more addicted unto them: Whereupon they do falsely affirm, that they have borne that respect unto others, which they themselves do maliciously look for. As touching that which Paulus Emilius did, he performed his duty in fight with Varo, being thereunto required, as I would have done the like with you, if you had willed me, or at the least if I had known that the enemies were come: the which you might have advertised me of by one only man or twain, without weakening your camp; but I not knowing thereof, how could I help you? But only suspicious of your meaning; I will not say that I was in doubt that you had some intelligence with the enemies, seeing that I cannot think so vild a part or so great a Treason could ever enter in the heart of a Roman: but I may well say that I had great reason to suspect, lest those of the city perceiving me go unto your aid, might have sallied forth, and charging us behind, have discomfited our whole army, seeing that I knew your overthrow even as soon as I knew that the enemies were come; and there was never any man of sound judgement that would lose the whole, when he might save the half, the which was so well considered of our Senate, that after the overthrow of Cannae, Varo was more praised for returning home, though flying, then was Paulus Emilius for dying in the place: moreover it is a doubt whether he did well to fight against his mind with Varo, seeing that it had been better for him & for the Commonwealth to have been less forward, or at the least more slow, for by that means all had not been lost, and it seemeth indeed that he condemned himself to have erred greatly, when he would rather die, then accept the horse which Lentulus did offer unto him to save himself: for it is a great rashness, to bring men unto the battle without some great likelihood of victory, the which I could not hope for, not knowing that you should fight so long until you were quite overthrown, and then was it too late to send you my forces, already amazed with a novelty being as sudden as it was unfortunate and unlooked for: for who would ever think that you would have been so proud, or rash as to begin the battle without advertising us? Us I say that should at the least have been companions of your danger, I will not say of your glory, seeing the greatness of your courage could not endure it. Furthermore as I am not ignorant why two Generals in an army are chosen, so do I in like sort know very well (to our great disadvantage) that you had a desire to usurp unto yourself alone the whole authority: finally there is too much said in a matter so evident, wherefore I submit myself unto the judgement of the Senate, whether I was bound, or whether I should have done well to hazard the rest of the army, to remedy a mischief, whereof I had no intelligence until it was quite remediless.   

Declamation. 19  
Of one that being condemned, appealed to a higher place, and refuseth his first judge, being precedent thereof.  
A Certain inferior judge of a Province, condemned a man to death, who appealed from him to the court of Parl●ment: nevertheless, he deferred his coming thither so long as he could, sometimes by feigning to be sick, and by such other means; which succeeded so badly for him, that the said judge came to be Precedent at the Parliament whereunto the said offender had appealed: Whereupon being brought thither, he refused to be judged by that new Precedent, saying:  
YOu would then that I should appeal from Pilate to Pilate, I will keep me from that, if justice have any place; for it cannot be termed an appeal, to have the same judge from whom one appealeth: Who knoweth not that he is the same man, who to increase his dignity, will nothing at all surcease his injustice, but rather with his dignity and authority will also increase an ill opinion towards me, because I have appealed from his injustice? for if he did me wrong when I might appeal from him, what will he now do, if he may absolutely judge me without contradiction? As for me, I do firmly believe, that with mine enemy's coin he hath bought this authority, to the end that I might have no other means to escape his unjust sentence: I will not say that such places of authority ought not to be sold, but I dare truly avouch that there aught great heed to be taken upon whom they are bestowed, and so much the rather, because being to continue in the same during their life, they are the less subject to correction, and paying money therefore, more subject to corruption. O happy is the country where the King maketh his abode, as at Paris and the places thereabout, for there those which deserve authority obtain them: for by the proof of their capacity, fidelity, and good services done unto the King's Majesty, and to the Commonwealth, they are provided of such estates as they deserve, or rather those places of authority are provided for such men as know how to exercise them as they ought: but here where we are far from that princely light, all is subject to corruption, and they do not bear office which do best deserve it, but they which have the most friends, and the greatest purse: so this my partial judge hath in one day obtained without any desert at all the dignity of a Precedent by his money. To avoid this corruption, in Italy, Spain, Almain, Flanders and other Provinces, the judges are only but for a year: but after that the term is ended, they are subject to the like officers, or unto the Censure of other judges: such also was the custom of the Romans, that so long time did flourish, and yet should have flourished, if Marius and Silla, and afterwards Caesar and Pompey, had not (with other good customs) caused this likewise to be neglected: for the Roman Empire, which so many years before was famous, did wholly decline, when offices were more easily obtained by the wealthy than the virtuous; but so long as the rich men did suffer themselves to be governed and judged by the poor Fabricias, and such others, no kingdom was more happy and prosperous than the Romans Commonwealth. The Venetians have flourished almost a thousand and two hundred years, by the like means, in making more estimation of such Senators as were virtuous, then of those that were rich, who if they have not virtue joined with their riches, do there never obtain any dignity: which is the cause that amongst them justice is rightly administered, and that the condemned do never hope for any redemption, or favour by appeals: but because we are far from the presence of the King, from his Counsel, and from the most worthy chief Court, we in this our Province do see the judges so corrupt, or sometimes so ignorant, that of an hundred appealants too do not return rightly judged. It were reason therefore that this our judge were allowed some certain time, to learn of the Lords which have of long time been of this Parliament, before he have this authority to adjudge those appealants which have appealed from himself: truly I should then be content to say that I have appealed from him being unjust, unto himself being become just; but what assurance have I now thereof? Seeing that in authority (which is indeed the touchstone to try men withal) the most part of them do wax worse, and even as the weight of gold diminisheth, being oftentimes rubbed upon the touchstone, so doth the consciences of such as are but slenderly endued with virtue decay, by often changing of their dignities: for if men did know, or at the least would not dissemble, how hard a thing it is, to use the office of a judge; there would be so few that would covet to buy that place, as hardly should there be any found that would be desirous to take such authority upon them: Nevertheless, this being not my judge, but mine adversary, not content to have adjudged me once, would condemn me again. King Lewis the twelfth, when one counseled him to be revenged on those, which in times past had offended him, answered that it was not the part of the king of France, to revenge the wrongs which were done unto the Duke of Orleans; which surely were both the words of a noble and mild prince: but I find not any of these two parts in this new precedent: but rather on the contrary, it seemeth that he hath made himself precedent, to cause those to die whom he hath wronged, being but an inferior judge, of whom I am one, and he which is unto him most odious. The old proverb saith, That the ignorance of the judge is oftentimes the cause of the calamititie of them that are accused: O happy world wherein this Proverb was invented! if than the judges did only offend through ignorance, although the same be a fault great enough, what shall we alas say then in these days? Wherein malice exceedeth ignorance, and that for the most part they harbour both together? Or that which is worst of all (if it may be lawful to speak the truth) that as the number of the skilful increaseth, so the number of the good decreaseth, and when that happeneth, there can no good be hoped for in the Commonwealth: for there is nothing more dangerous in the world, then to have such a man in authority, that is wise and wicked both together: because that for every purpose, they have examples very ready to prove, and persuade their wicked intentions to be lawful, like unto this man, who by his money is made precedent: Wherefore I do rather submit myself unto any other judge, then unto him whom I do utterly refuse.  

The Answer.  
IT is a common thing that such as are offenders do hate and slander their judges, and the more just they are, the sooner do they falsely accuse them of injustice: wherein they themselves do make their crime more apparent: for they would have the judges such as they are, that they might pity those that are like unto themselves: or at the least that they might be such as would be corrupted, the which they cannot hope for in those that are just, wherefore they are driven into despair, knowing that no punishment can hurt the desperate man, as also that there shall not so much be inflicted upon them, as they do deserve, and so they vomit out their poison against the righteous judge: the which they do the more boldly, because they know well that for all their speech he will be never a whit the more cruel unto them, but without any stearnnesse or malice will judge them according to the laws, executing them rather with mercy, than rigour; neither shall the wicked be able to move his patience, for he which perceiveth himself to be blamed truly is angry, and thinketh to be revenged: but on the contrary, he that knoweth his conscience clear, maketh no account of slanderous speeches: or if he chance at the first brunt to be angry, he doth presently bridle the same his anger by reason, rather desiring to remain such as he is, then by rage or passion to become such a one as in ttuth he ought not to be. I am the same man which he affirmeth me to be; so also is he nothing amended since I condemned him. I did never bear him any ill will, neither did he ever give me occasion so to do: but truly I have condemned him, but with less rigour than his deserts required, or the laws commanded: but why should not I be odious unto him whom I have condemned to die? Seeing that the Physicians and chirurgeons, who do employ themselves to save men's lives, are oftentimes hearty loathed of them, when either they touch their sores, or will not suffer them to follow their noisome appetites, but do rather appoint them to take good and and wholesome things: the child and the servant, yea and the wife, do for the most part hate the father, the master, and the husband which chastise & rebuke them; how much more than doth the offender hate the judge which condemneth him? Seeing he wrongfully deemeth him to be the cause of the shame and punishment which he receiveth, although himself be the occasion both of the one and the other evil. Whereas he saith, that I have bought my office to hurt him: there be some other proofs than his tongue to verify the contrary; It is likewise apparently seen, how he slandereth the most part of judges. It is a goodly matter indeed for an offender to censure the deeds of judges, and to discourse of equity and justice, as also to dispute whether offices may be sold, and whether officers ought to be yearly chosen or not; you are brought hither to be judged, and you will judge the judges: all this serveth you to no end, bethink you if you can, how you may clear yourself, and afterwards you may accuse us before those that have power to redress it, and then there will be greater credit given to your speech: but now you being condemned as an offender, no man that knoweth what justice is, will believe but that you speak of others, as you yourself would do, if you had their authority: for the manner of those that have their consciences seared, is such, that they are persuaded that the most part of men are like unto themselves, wherefore let us come unto the point concerning you and me: say only, have I proceeded against you otherwise then by an ordinary and usual custom; Have I not given ear aswell unto your excuses, or justifications, as unto your accusers? Have I posted over or rashly huddled up your process? Are not you yourself the occasion of your bringing hither so late? If amongst so many I have been thought worthy of this estate, should I have forsaken it for you? Or was it I alone, that did judge your process? The counsellors were not they there, as they are here in like sort? Was it I that either did condemn you, or that must again condemn you? Are they not your own deeds? Bethink you then to allege other reasons to more purpose for your justification, or to submit you unto the discretion of the judges: praying unto God to give you the grace, patiently to abide the sentence which they shall pronounce upon you, referring all unto the will of God, who by that means will bestow that upon you which shall be more profitable for you: for he exalteth those that do hearty pray unto him. And lastly determine (if the worst do happen) sith you could not tell how to live well, to learn to die well, giving thanks unto God for taking you out of this miserable world, before you have further offended his divine Majesty: by that means your punishment together with his mercy, shall be a full satisfaction for all your sins.    

Declamation. 20.  
Of the soldiers that would needs give over the wars after the death of their General.  
THe ancient military law is such, that every soldier maketh his oath particularly to follow his Ensign, the Ensign taketh his oath to obey his captain, the captains their Colonels, than all of them generally do swear the same oath to the General of the army, (representing the person of the Prince) to serve him truly and faithfully. Whereupon the General, or Lieutenant General chanceth to die in a difficult and dangerous enterprise, and by his death the soldiers hold an opinion that they are acquitted of their oath, and that they may give over the enterprise. And thus one amongst them pleadeth for all the rest:  
THe oath of the soldier lasteth so long as he that receiveth it, or he to whom it is made liveth, as we have done unto our General, who being dead, we are no longer bound. We have sworn to serve the Prince under his conduct: following him in all, and by all things, into all places, and against all men, without any exception at all: the which we have done even until his death, without any refusal, or contradiction, wherefore having performed our duty, we are no longer bound: for we cannot follow him any further, except we should die as he hath done, which would be a thing as hurtful unto the Prince, to the Commonwealth, and to us, as it would be profitable unto our enemies, and ill willers, unto whom we ought to do no pleasure nor profit at all. And never think that we are to be retained in service still, saying that the Prince will send another General, or that his Lieutenant that is dead, representeth his person by order of prescription, until the Prince have confirmed him for General: or that he hath sent another: for such a reason is nothing worth, because there are many that suffered themselves to be enroulled under the deceased General, which would neither march nor be enroled under him whom the Prince may send us, for such was the trust that we did repose in his valour and wisdom, that nothing seemed impossible unto us, so long as we followed his command, wherefore (considering that the Prince may well bestow the dignity and estate, but that the discretion, wisdom, and valour of the man, cometh from above) we are discouraged to serve any longer, without knowing under whom: True it is that there is none so good but there may be found another as good: but it is very certain also, that an opinion is half an effect, and that for the most part, it ordereth matters as it listeth, without any other respect, and especially when it is joined with some proof, or admirable experience, as was that of our late noble General; which hath so many times been redoubled, who by his example did not only increase the courages of those that were valiant, but also made the very cowards bold and stout: so that it may very well be said, that he hath carried our hearts with him, or rather that he hath bestowed part of his greatness upon us al. Finally, the soldier that marcheth under such a General whom he liketh not, differeth nothing from a slave, who is bound to serve his master whether he be good or bad, which is the cause that seldom they do any thing that is good. Wherefore is an oath made? But only that the performance thereof may follow. Why are not we as free from our oath by his decease, as we were bound by the same while he lived? How many did march under Scipio, that would not follow Lelius? Although they were both of one, and the same country, one as noble as another, and so great friends, as the one might well be said to be the other: Nevertheless, for the most part both of the Roman soldiers, and strangers, had rather have died with the one, then lived with the other. By what means did Epaminundas and Pelopides reform the military discipline of the Thebans? But only by the good opinion which the men of war had of them. We do not say, that we would wholly refuse to serve, and bear arms for our Prince; but we would feign know under whom we should march: moreover, we would that it might be lawful for those that will serve no longer to departed: and that those which would follow the future commander, might be bound by a new oath.  

The Answer.  
WHat novelty is this? How dare you only think a treason so great? Not only against your Prince and country: but against yourselves, and the profession of arms? Saying that you are acquitted of your oath, by the death of your General: Who is then your General? Is not the prince? Is he dead? Or doth he ever die, but straight another succeed him? It is not you that were sworn unto the General that dead is, but I, that was his Lieutenant, who always in his absence represented his person: If I had then this authority whilst he lived, what a jest were it that I should lose it after his death? For when he was absent, your oath bound you to me. Wherefore hath the General a Lieutenant? But only because (himself being subject to wounds, sickness, and lastly to death) that he should maintain and keep the soldiers in obedience? You cannot deny, but that so long as he lived, it was I to whom you were to yield an account of your actions, but not for you to doubt of my authority: for proof whereof, durst you refuse to follow me in any place where I would lead you? Or to deny to do whatsoever I would command you? Durst you once have demanded whether that which I would have you do, was the pleasure of the General? Would I not have punished him with death, that should have disobeyed me? Or had I not the power by martial law of myself to put any disobedient soldier to death? The Colonel, hath not he the like authority over the captains? And the captains over the others that command under them, even unto the corporal, who hath the same power over the private soldier? What do you mean then to doubt of the authority of your General? Consider soldiers how you have sworn to serve your prince, and follow your Ensign; which is meant so far as you may be allowed by the prince: what will you then say? Seeing your Ensigns are yet displayed, and your captains willing to serve? Do you not know that you are entered in their muster-role, and that you must march under them: They under the Campmaisters, the Campmaisters under the Colonels, the Colonels under the General or his Lieutenant, and the General under the prince if he be there, if he be not, than he representeth his person? where is then your understanding? Who hath bewitched or seduced you, that you will thus pervert order and military discipline? Is not this fellow a trim Orator, being no less ignorant than ill advised: who thinking that he is the ablest and wisest man amongst the rest, heapeth upon himself alone, all the dishonour and punishment of this fault? he I say that was worthy to die before he was borne, rather than he should have attempted to corrupt so many worthy and valiant men. The noble Romans did sundry times commit the like faults, especially under that great Scipio in Spain, who also caused only Albius Calenus, Atrius Vmbrius, and others the inventors of the mutiny to be punished as capital offenders: and I do assure you that in their deed, they offended not so much as you, for they had been unpaied of a long time, and it was certainly thought, that Scipio their General was dead, which was the cause that made the soldiers not only to mutiny, but also many cities and Provinces to revolt, before they did mutiny. Whereupon Titus Livius saith, That when the authors of the deed were punished in the midst of their fellows, there was not heard so much as one only groan, seeing them beaten stark naked with holly wands, even until they were ready to give up the ghost, and afterwards their heads to be stricken off being half dead. Those men did mutiny because they did see that the Provinces did rebel, but you, having passed the worst of a dangerous enterprise, being upon the point of a victory, the which your General (whom you so greatly bemoan) hath prepared for you with the price of his life, would now give it over. Is it possible that the reverence which you own unto his memory, and the shame of yourselves should not be able to withhold you? the greatest love that can be showed unto any man that is deceased, is to imitate his deeds, and to observe his precepts: and you will wholly estrange yourselves from them, which doth plainly declare, that being unworthy of such a General, God hath taken him away from you: or rather he very well knowing your unworthiness was not desirous to live any longer. I know not what else to say or think: what should be become of your ancient valour, and martial reputation, which was wont to have more need of a bridle to hold you back, then spurs to prick you forward. I am ashamed of your shame, if it be true that you have charged this lost man to make this discourse? But I cannot believe it: for the insolency is too great, so that it cannot proceed from any other but from himself, and so consequently none aught to bear the shame, and punishment thereof but he: Nevertheless, for the good opinion which I have of you, I do put his life and death into your hands: having so great confidence in your nobility, that you will not endure a man so pernicious, to remain any longer amongst you, but if you shall suffer him, it will be your own hurt more than ours, besides the shame and reproach which will continue for ever, yea, and that after death: for there is no doubt but that the Historiographers do as well record the faults of soldiers, as their valiant acts, which afterwards is oftentimes the cause, that their posterity do far the worse for it. lastly, I have told some part of the reasons why you cannot, much less ought not, to demand that which this wicked man hath proponed, without the consent of any of you, except it be of some such as are like unto himself, which may well be termed the scum of the army, for in such assemblies there are some bad, like as there is no corn without darnel, no wine without lees, nor any fire without smoke: or else if your ungraciousness be such (as I can hardly believe it is) that many are of that mind, but rather that it is the lesser number, and consequently the worse sort of all the army: I am of opinion, that such kind of people are not fit to be kept; for such a riddance of them, will be profitable unto the whole army, because a few well disciplined, are more worth than a great number of those that are confused, disobedient, and without order. Let them come forth than which would be discharged, whilst the captains are here with their muster rolls, to the end that at the same time also they may be commended & rewarded, which shall remain constant in performing their duties: and by the same means also to determine upon that which we are to write unto the Prince and country of those, who so cowardly do forsake their leaders and companions.  
You must note, that when the Generals do make these orations, there is none so hardy that dare be the first, which will say he would be discharged: for they fear lest some of them may be already corrupted or won by the captains. And by this means do they punish the authors of the mutiny, and use some liberality towards the soldiers.    

Declamation. 21.  
Of Gamaliel, who having slain two of his brethren, because one of them had ravished his wife, is accused by the others.  
SAdoc and Gamaliel (amongst diverse others) were two brethren, the one excelling in learning, the other in arms: Sadoc by Astrology, foretold unto his brother, that if he married without the consent of all his brethren, that there should thereby happen a great mischief and dishonour unto all their lineage. Gamaliel neglecting this advice, did marry in a strange country, which done, shortly after he brought his wife (who was exceeding fair) home into his own country, and obtaining of his brethren his part of the patrimony left by his father, he lived thereupon peaceably. He being one day fallen sick, Sadoc visited him so long, that he fell in love with his fair sister in law, and found such means as he enjoyed her company in a manner by force; she declared the deed unto her husband, he both slew his brother Sadoc, & also another of his brethren, who came to defend him: Whereupon the other brethren and kinsmen being moved therewithal, did accuse him to the justice by these words:  
THey truly are in a miserable case, who have no friends that may give them instruction & good counsel in there youth, because that youth without the advise of such as are grave and wise, are like a fierce horse without a bridle, who overthroweth both himself and his rider: but far more unhappy, and worthy of all mishap is he, that despiseth good counsel; and above all other they are most unfortunate, who through such contempt (without being themselves in any fault) are partakers of such mischief as thereby doth happen, as we O righteous judges are, who not only for such an error have lost two of the best of our brethren, but also are constrained through just disdain to demand the death of the third, as unworthy both to be accounted any of our number, and also such a one as deserveth to live no longer in the world, having committed so execrable a sin as to murder his own brethren: not that the fault inciteth us to hate him, but because the sorrow for those whom he hath slain, provoketh us to require justice: as well to bridle by this example other such like insolent persons, as also that the rest of our parentage may be rid from the fear of this murderous man, spotted with the blood of his brethren. For it commonly falleth out, that such blood thirsty men as he is, cannot refrain from shedding human blood: as it appeareth by Abimilech the Hebrew, who slew seventy of his brethren; and by Absalon, who having caused his brother Amon to be slain, would have done the like unto his father: what shall I say of joab, and others of the jews? These are the virtues which a man learneth in following the wars, who being used to murder, finding no enemies killeth his friends, and afterwards his kindred and brethren as this hath done: so did Romulus cause his brother to be slain, and Alexander killed his foster brother Clitus, & others his good friends and servants. Aso Epaminundas the Theban, Manlius Torquatus, and Aulus Posthumius Tubero, being Romans, slew their sons (more worthy to live than they) under the colour of observing military discipline. The like did Brutus being in exile, and Cassius the Ensign of Crassus, saying that their sons conspired against them: the like did Artaxerxes Mnenon King of Persia. Likewise the great Constantine caused his son and his brother in law to die, without showing a reason wherefore: The King of jotara slew all his sons except one, because he should be his only heir: Authi Coelio Mithridates, a noble warrior, slew his mother, brother, and many of his children: Herod put three of his children to death: Finally, this desire of murdering proceedeth from the use thereof, by the which Etheocles, Polynices, Tideus, Polites, Antiochus, Aristobulus, and an infinite number of others, who after they had been famous warriors, became worse than hangmen: but who will spare him, that for so small a hire, or for a vainglory to be accounted warlike, hazardeth, or rather selleth his own life? Yea, and for the most part his soul, which life he ought not to bestow but only for the safeguard and defence of his country and family: how can they deserve to enjoy life, or to be accounted off amongst men, who live to no other end but to murder them: and which do not only delight in making of widows, and orphans, but also would willingly make their own wives and children in the like case, (though with the price of their lives) for the great pleasure they have, to be accounted cruel: such a one this our brother (but unworthy that name) is and ever hath been: whereby we do plainly perceive, that like as virtues are linked together, so do vices follow one another: for from his youth he hath despised the good counsel both of all his kindred, and also of his brother whom he hath afterwards slain, thorough the report of a woman: and what woman? Forsooth a stranger: who being enamoured of a stranger, and marrying with him, cared not to forsake her country and kindred to follow him hither, where (it may be) perceiving that she was not sufficiently made of to her own liking, and especially of him who foresaw the mischief that should happen by her, did accuse him unto her husband, knowing him to be as foolish, and light of belief, as prone unto anger and murder. How many are there that do themselves provoke men unto adultery; But when they see that they are refused by them, they do afterwards complain that they would have forced them? The wife of Putiphar, of Theseus, and of others, do very well witness the same: what assurance have we of the chastity or goodness of this woman, that she hath not done the like? Hardly may a woman be forced which maketh any resistance; and if at the least she want strength to defend herself, she cannot lack a tongue nor a shrill voice to cry out, being a thing so incident unto their sex: but although she had been forced indeed, was not the law sufficient to have punished the same? Should not we then have been as ready as we are now, to accuse the offender? But forasmuch as truth engendereth hatred, he having found an occasion (as he thought) to offer violence unto his brother, was in sooth very loath to lose the same: consider then, O you judges, if such faults be not rigorously punished, that women being naturally given to revenge, and men over easy to believe them, will commit a thousand mischiefs. Lastly, it cannot be denied, but that it is as great an injustice to pardon an offender, as to condemn an innocent, & that even as justice without mercy is cruelty, so also is clemency without justice iniquity: wherefore we are certain that you will judge rightly, as the law commandeth, and conscience and honour doth bind you.  

The Answer of Gamaliel.  
IN effect these my brethren (if such they may be termed, purchasing my death) do very well show that another man's misfortune is light unto them which feel it not, and every one preacheth patience and temperance in other men's matters, as these do, who would persuade me that this exercrable offence should not once have provoked me to revenge; the which it hath not done, but rather unto a just punishment of the malefactor: for that is called revenge, which is done wittingly, but that is punishment which is enforced through a most just cause of disdain or anger. Some may say that every punishment ought to be done with a settled mind, without choler, for fear of being over rigorous, I do confess it aught: but who can also deny that the first motions of anger are not in our own power? Wherefore I would, and it were also reasonable, that these my over sharp accusers had a true feeling of the wrong done unto me, and then they would judge more modestly of their brother, who hath done that which they ought to desire, that is; rooted out from amongst them a superstitious Divine, not only hurtful to his friends, but unto all the Commonwealth: Is it not too apparent that such people are puffed up with ambition, that they had rather see the death of a million of men, then to suffer that by any it should be known, that they have failed one jot in their fond divinations? As he of Milan did, who having foretold that at a certain time he should perish by iron, (not finding any man that would kill him, although he gave them divers occasions) slew himself to verify his prophesy: so this my dead brother, having foretold that by this my marriage a great mischance should happen unto all our race, had rather be the cause thereof himself, (not seeing any likelihood therein) then to be esteemed unskilful in his art, which is especially forbidden both by divine and human laws. And then you say that you have lost the best of your brethren, me thinks that if he were the best, than the rest should be nothing worth at all; and you ought not to say that a just cause of disdain constraineth you to require the death of the third, but rather an injust hatred; for were it not so, from whence could such an invective proceed, to animate the judges against me? Had it not been sufficient for you only to have said, this man here hath slain our two brethren for this and this cause, whereupon we demand justice? You say that you are partakers of the misfortunes of my marriage, why do you not rather say of the insolency, wickedness, and adultery of Sadoc? As also that I am unworthy to be reckoned amongst your brethren; truly he never deserved to be accounted. If offenders ought to be punished for an example, I have not done so bad as you say, in punishing him suddenly: For who was a more notorious offender than he? You say that those which follow arms do all become wicked men: Abraham, Moses, josua, and a number of others because they were valiant in arms, were they the less righteous? Moreover the multitude of those which you allege that have slain their kindred, maketh more for my commendation, than my condemnation: for you shall find that the most part of them had less cause to do the same then I. Furthermore I cannot believe, that either money, or desire of vainglory draweth men unto the wars, but rather a desire to maintain lawful and just quarrels, although every General affirmeth it to be his own. Finally, the wars hath been in all ages: Saint john baptized the soldiers without forbidding them to use the same art: yea God hath many times commanded his people to use it: so that it may be justly proved that wars is rather an occasion of virtue than vice. Concerning the report of my wife, this is not the first time that women have been believed in the like case: wherefore seeing neither you nor I have or can find any reproach in mine that may blemish her honour, she is as well to be believed as others; and if as you say a woman cannot be forced, then have divers heretofore been wrongfully condemned for the like offence. Truly the law had been sufficient to have punished Sadoc, but if I had had such patience as was requisite, what assurance should I have had that he would either have come before the justices, or else if he had chanced into their hands, that you would not all have taken his part, as you are now against me? And as you say, it is injustice to pardon an offender, so is it justice to punish a wicked man, as I have done: wherefore I have not offended, but only in that being justly stirred up to anger, I have defrauded the judges of their authority, of whom humbly beseeching pardon for this fault, I do wholly submit myself unto their mercy, beseeching them also to defend me from your malice.    

Declamation. 22.  
Of him who after he had had his pleasure of a maid, would have forsaken her, to have married her sister.  
A Young Gentleman having had a quarrel a long time with a neighbour of his, made an agreement with him, upon a condition that the said neighbour should give him leave to choose one of his three daughters in marriage, and allow him the term of one year to make his choice: so that under this colour, being familiar with them all, he got the eldest of them with child, afterwards he would have chosen the second, whereunto the neighbour opposed himself, saying:  
THou ungracious man, how darest thou imagine such a wickedness? Or once behold me in the face, having been so treacherous and mischievous to abuse that familiarity, which was granted unto thee in sign of reconciliation, under the which thou hast more harmed me in protesting thyself to be my friend, than all thy weak forces had been able to hurt me if thou hadst continued my mortal enemy. O God is it possible that men may be so wicked, That what they cannot do by force, they accomplish under the cloak of an honest friendship? but why say I friendship, When that is the greatest benefit that God hath given for the use of man, without the which, this life should be full of bitterness and sorrow? But let us come unto the matter: did not you make your choice, when you had carnal copulation with my daughter? Is not that the consummation of marriage? Truly yes, they were all three promised unto you, but in lying with this you have had your choice, and it is not very likely that she would otherwise have consented thereunto; but you breaking promise with her, would by that means be revenged of me for all former enmities: but if it be so, that an ancient hatred prevaileth more with you then a new friendship? I do beseech you most worthy judges, that he may be punished, which hath suborned, seduced, and abused her that is his wives sister, for by our agreement, he is bound to take one of the three: moreover let him be punished, which hath so grievously offended his father in law, his mother in law, and his sisters in law, and finally (contemning laws and all honesty) hath slandered the Commonwealth.  

The Answer.  
I Have not yet chosen at all, but in trying which of your daughters should deserve to be my wife, it fell out, that this proved with child, I knew not by whom; which was sufficient to have made me stand in doubt of all the rest: Nevertheless, because I would not seem to break our league, I suddenly made choice of the second, for feareleast as much might happen unto her, seeing you have so badly kept the first: but why do I speak of keeping, seeing the female sex are so hardly to be kept. If you will not give me your daughter, let us remain friends, without being kinsmen? For a true friendship is more worth, than a kindred, which is made by force or compulsion: wherefore I would not in any sort violate the use thereof as you accuse me, but would rather be partaker of your daughter's shame in marrying with her sister, then to be once suspected to be the breaker of our friendship. I cannot hinder your daughter to say what she thinks good, both to excuse her shame, and to be made a wife, but for all that I am not bound to believe her against my conscience, nor to make amends for another man's fault to my loss and dishonour. You do seem in your whole accusation against me, not to be well advised, and I do verily believe, that choler (which is an enemy to good counsel) is that which chief troubleth you; whereby you speak very unfitly to the purpose, for although it were so, that I had gotten your daughter with child (the which I deny, and she can never prove) do you think that I would buy of her by marriage, that which she hath already given me, because she would have her share of the pleasure? Or do you think me so mad, that I would wed her, whom I should evermore suspect to play the wanton? For seldom or never doth a woman abandon her honour unto one man alone, and she that cannot keep it before she hath tasted the sweetness of the sport, will never keep it after she hath been pampered therein. But where do you find, that the dalliance of lovers, is the contracting of marriage? If it were so, then must some men needs marry more than fifty women, so ready are they to yield, yea and sometimes to require the same. lastly, I deny, that mine intention was ever to offend you; and sufficient proof thereof, is the desire that I have to satisfy you, not refusing her for my sister, which hath so much forgotten herself, as not only to lose her honest reputation, but also wrongfully to accuse me: and because I will not be over tedious, I put it unto your discretion, either to let me choose or to choose yourself, whether you will have me to be your son in law or no, bethink you well then of the matter, for I will not make the first motion therein.    

Declamation. 23.  
Of the part of a house which was to be pulled down, for the offence of one that dwelled therein, whereupon another dwelling in the same house, was opposite.  
TWo men were owners together of one house, one of them dwelled in the lower part, and the other in the higher part thereof: he which dwelled beneath committed an offence, for the which the law commanded that his dwelling should be pulled down: but he which dwelled above, withstood it, saying:  
TRue it is that this house is ours in common, and for his part he dwelled in the lower part thereof, but what have I to do with his fault, that for the same my dwelling ought to be harmed, seeing that I have not offended the law in any sort? What is he that doth not very well understand, that in pulling down the neither part of an house, the upper part thereof falleth of itself, as being without foundation, or an unprofitable mansion? I will not disobey the law, the which although it be to be observed, yet is it not for all that to be used with the extremest rigour, for the text of the most part of the law is brief, but it may be well enlarged by the gloss, and those which tend more unto pity then rigour, aught to be allowed, and especially in favour of them which are not faulty, in hurting of whom it is mere injustice; which is a thing more injurious, than not to punish the offender at all: for if it be lawful to prefer mercy before justice, how much more than ought we to use clemency rather than cruelty; As this would be, to take away the dwelling place from a poor innocent family such as mine is? It must be considered that this law was made for strong houses, wherein the malefactors might make resistance, but throwing down such an house as is only fit for dwelling, you not only wrong me & mine, but also the neighbours of the whole street, yea and the whole city beside, in leaving a void place in a chief street, amongst so many houses, the which will serve but for a lurking place for thieves, and other wicked people that walk by night: wherefore if the extremest rigour must be shown, that a part of the house must be pulled down, let it be the uppermost part, and leave the lower room for a recompense unto me; although it be somewhat to my prejudice, to change the wholesomest part for that which is cold and moist: moreover to speak the truth, it cannot be well said, which part was justly his, seeing the house fell in partition, or in common unto us both alike. It is true also that the same part which you will pull down, fell unto him by lot, and so did mine likewise unto me, seeing then that the offender cannot be harmed, except he that is innocent be hurt, it were better either to spare the one for the others sake, rather than to hurt him that never offended; or at the least to do as I have said, and make a change, that the faultless be not altogether undone.  

The Attorney General contradicteth him, thus.  
IT seemeth in a manner that your speech hath some likelihood of reason, but being thoroughly well considered, it hath none at all: for it is necessary, that justice (which is a benefit for the Commonwealth) should take place, all particular profit or damage set apart, for even as you say, that this house fell unto you both by lot, so the same lot willed that his part should be the lower room, and not the upper: the law commandeth not his part alone, but that his dwelling place should be razed down, the which ought to take place, yea although his dwelling had been hired, to warn those that be landlords not to let their houses but unto those that they know to be honest men: & it was not in vain, when a Citizen of Rome causing the sale of his house to be cried thorough the city, he made it to be published, that amongst other good properties which was belonging unto it, there was good neighbours round about it; which doth manifestly prove, that a man may often receive hurt by his neighbours, how much more than by him that dwelleth in the same house with him. In thinking to save part of your ability, you would blemish your whole honour, for in pulling down your habitation, and letting the offenders stand whole, it will be thought that you have committed the crime, & that he is innocent, because the same is done as much for a perpetual memory and reproach of the offence, as for an example to others: and the law was ordained for the strong houses no more than it was for those that were weak, whose loss will be a less hurt unto the Commonwealth. Moreover, where the greater number is, there do such faults happen the oftener, as also because the common people are less afraid than the Noble, to be convinced of crime; for as much as the fall of the great, cannot choose but be great, and therefore the more to be feared, and especially when it concerneth the loss of honour, which is so hardly to be gotten, but being once lost, seldom or never may it be recovered. The augmenting of the gloss of the law cannot redound unto the prejudice of justice, which is to correct or punish the wicked without any respect at all: if you have nothing to do with the fault of the offender, no more also hath justice to do with the loss which you sustain for dwelling so near unto him, and you must not say that this void place shall serve for a lurking hole for thieves and such wicked people as walk by night, for so long as justice shall be truly administered, the number of such kind of people will be but small. But why do you not as well say that this place will serve for a terror unto those which would commit the like offences, seeing the token that justice hath here left for the same: and this must be especially remembered, that there is no other bridle to restrain the wicked, than the inviolable execution of the laws, yea, it is the chiefest work of mercy to punish the wicked with rigour, because that by the punishment of one, an hundred are terrified: wherefore we must not for some little particular loss, neglect the common good, and the rather, because that for your loss you may seek your remedy upon the rest of his goods: but should it be otherwise, yet ought you to prefer justice, which is immortal (as being the daughter of God) before a little temporal goods.    

Declamation. 24.  
Of him who having lain with his bondwoman, would neither manumise her, nor consent that her son should be sold.  
THe law in times past was such, that if any man did lie with his bondwoman, he was enjoined to manumise or make her free. Whereupon it happened that a certain man begot his bondwoman with child, he being called before the justice, did swear that he did not lie with her; she being in travel with her child, swore he did: the judge the better to sift out the truth and to be assured whether the child were his, commanded that he should be sold for a slave, (the man lying in prison for debt) unto the which he would in no sort agree. Whereupon the judge presumed that he was the father of the child, and condemned him to manumise the mother. The man appealeth saying:  
IT is manifestly to be seen, that the judge is more carried away with passion, then guided by justice, for first he would have me to make my bondwoman free, and yet she never requested me to do it, and next he hath constrained me to swear, thereby to exempt me from doing it, but not content therewith, having bethought himself upon the speech of her being in travail of childbirth (and it may be, incited by himself) would that there should be more credit given unto the oath of a bondwoman, then unto his, that is a Citizen free born, and owner of the bondwoman: who doubteth that she (seeing herself favoured of the judge) will not take an occasion to swear an untruth, to gain her freedom? But must he believe her for all that? When a slave is taken for an offence, if he saith his master is partaker with him therein, is he to be believed? Do we not know that every slave hateth his master? But the passion of the judge is very manifest in this, that amongst all the movable goods which I have, he would needs cause this poor child to be sold, who as yet cannot speak: I gainsaying so great a cruelty, he would infer that I declare by the same that he is my son; the which is not true: but I am not so hard hearted, neither do I hate the silly creature (born within my house) so extremely, as I can without compassion see him separated from his mother so young, which is almost enough to kill him; but what a judge are you, That in steed of exercising mercy, will hinder others from using it? Whereby a man may easily know how unworthy you are to execute the office of a judge, seeing that justice and pity ought to be joined together as the body and soul, which being separated one from another, the body dieth: even so without mercy, justice dieth: and as the dead body by corruption is turned unto earth, so is justice without mercy changed into cruelty. How long did the city of Rome flourish, being grounded upon pity? When in her beginning she received all nations, which had elsewhere no place of abode? And yet you would condemn me, because I embrace pity in my heart, which will never enter into yours; otherwise you would comfort me being so miserable a prisoner as I am: but to increase the affliction of the afflicted, you would not only cause that to be sold which he loveth, but also would have him manumise his only bondwoman, from whom he might reap some profit by her service. Yet if at the least you had willed the mother and the child to be sold both together, your cruelty then should not seem so manifest; but like unto Herod, you have a desire only to hurt the innocent and the prisoner: notwithstanding, I have so great confidence in the equity of those who are more righteous than you, that (they having just pity of the afflicted, and innocent) will condemn your cruelty.  

The Answer.  
WEre you so honest a man as you should be, you might both be free from this punishment, and I eased of that travel which you have put me unto: but how would you be esteemed just and pitiful, seeing that you yourself do give men occasion not to think you so? showing yourself to be either more slanderous than any other, or else truly very miserable? Do you not know that it is the greatest virtue that can be in the world, for a man to bridle his tongue, and that it oftentimes hurteth his own master more than doth his enemy's sword? Wherefore I stand in doubt whether your malice or ignorance is greater, but the one being never without the other, I will only say that you show them both at once, attributing that in me to passion, which can be no less than prudence: truly he were unworthy to be a judge, that knew not how to discover the malice of offenders, for as much is that judge to be esteemed which is without wisdom, as a Commonwealth without laws, a Prince without faith, a physician without experience, a soldier without valour, and a Merchant without credit; who being such, they do not fall themselves alone, but they are the cause of the overthrow of a great number. But tell us what was the cause that Solomon judged so rightly, but only wisdom? Even so I without the same should never have known your iniquity, and so consequently I should never have found out a just cause to condemn you: for it is very manifest, that covetousness never judgeth any thing to be unlawful, because it hath no place but amongst such as are wicked, which is it that caused you to think it lawful to commit whoredom with your bondwoman, then to deny the fact, and to forswear yourself, because you would not make her free, desiring rather to prejudice the law, then to hinder your profit; and afterwards being cast in prison for your faults, you would yet further defraud your creditors, in not consenting to the sale of him, who (if he be not your son) standeth you in no stead, but to burden you with a further charge: and especially hindering his mother, he is the cause that she cannot apply her business to get your living and her own, so that they do both help to consume and waste that little which remaineth to pay the creditors, or that which you have hidden to deceive them. If he be not your son, why would you keep him? To serve for a witness of your servants shame? Do you not know that he which cleaveth unto vices, maketh them his own? It is no charity to keep a child to be your slave, and less charity is it, not to consent to have him sold to pay your debts. Touching your demand, why I do not sell your other goods? I answer, there is time enough, but I would first begin with that which was least profitable unto you, and yet of great charge; and if you allow not this reason, I did it to make the truth known unto others as well as to me it is, that he is your child; wherein I do sufficiently declare, that I do not only join mercy with justice, but also that I do further thereunto add wisdom, to make up the number more perfect; for without it justice seemeth to be rigour, and mercy no better than folly: for what greater foolishness can there be, then to pity such a one as hurteth others? as this infant hurteth you and your creditors; therefore if he be not your son let him be sold, and if you have begotten him, make his mother free. Whereupon do you appeal? Because I have not likewise condemned you for perjury? The same may yet be done all in good time, the deed being proved. You do also say, that it were better to sell the mother and the child together, it would be more indeed the child's profit: but it must be considered that many would willingly have a child in their house to make them some sport, and afterwards to do them some service, which would not be troubled with a whore, that can be nothing but a slander, and an ill example for all their household. For all these foresaid reasons, it may be gathered that I have no desire either to harm the innocent, or to hurt the afflicted, but mine intention is to have the father acknowledge his child, and that the mother should be recompensed as reason requireth.    

Declamation. 25.  
Of a General who after he had lost the battle, sent to the Prince to know if he should give the battle.  
A King sent his Lieutenant General to the wars, with an express charge not to give any General battle without he did first advertise his Majesty thereof. It happened that occasion offered such an advantage, that the said Lieutenant (notwithstanding the King's commandment) did fight a battle: but as the wars are casual, and that oftentimes fortune crosseth the virtuous, so he lost the said battle, and presently afterwards he sent a post unto the king to tell him that such an occasion was offered unto him to give the battle, as was greatly unto his advantage, and declared such apparent reasons, as the Prince appointed that the battle should be given, than the messenger said: If it like your Majesty the battle hath been given with all such order and policy as was requisite, notwithstanding we have lost the field: The King being exceeding angry, caused the messenger to be hanged, and the Lieutenant General to be taken and condemned him to death, who appealed, defending his cause thus:  
IN vain do Princes send those unto the wars, whose hands they keep tied, and truly it may be said that I was sent in such sort: Nevertheless, seeing the likelihood of a profitable victory, to finish the wars to the great honour and commodity of my Prince and country, the band of his commandment unlosed of itself, and leaving me at my liberty, I did my best, although fortune enemy to virtue so wrought against us, as the effect proved not according to the likelihood of the deed, and the desire of the doer, but what shall I say? That I can do what men may do only, fight a battle, but God alone must give the victory: The which oftentimes either he delaieth or suffereth it wholly to be lost for the sins of the people, when God seethe that their pride and other vices are not yet left: moreover, it happeneth many times that God will punish the insolency of the soldiers, using the enemies as instruments of his justice; Was not the battle lost by the children of Israel before Hai, only for the theft of Achan? Was not also the whole host troubled, and jonathas in danger of death because he had tasted a little honey? With a number of other examples which I overpass because I will not be tedious. Alas how hard are men's actions to be effected, without his great danger that employeth himself therein? And principally when the judgement of the performance thereof dependeth upon one man's voice only? Wherefore O Prince I say, that you alone cannot judge me, much less condemn me, except you do it of your own absolute authority, which undoubtedly were manifest tyranny, the which I think you do very much abhor: considering that you alone cannot be a head without members, and that in this deed of mine the members are also interressed, that is to say, if I have offended, they are to punish me, and not having offended, they ought to preserve me, to perform some good service: for it is a matter of no small importance for them to save or lose such a man, whom you have thought worthy to be the only General of your wars: and I doubt whether you alone may make a decree that I shall not fight, except also you yourself may command me to do it: for seeing the loss is more hurtful unto the people, then to the Prince, wherefore ought he to be the only judge of a deed, wherein the General profit, or loss of the commonalty consisteth? For be it loss or gain, the people must maintain the Prince's estate, and especially when they lose most, then are they most of all burdened with imposts and lend, to resist the enemy, and to satisfy the Prince's pleasure: whereupon it may be inferred that if I have offended, it is more to the prejudice of the people than the Prince: notwithstanding I am content to submit myself unto their judgement, trusting that they will have no less respect to the services which heretofore I have done, and to those which hereafter I may yet do, then unto the good meaning that I had to perform this last service well, although God (it may be for a greater good) would not suffer me to have the victory, being as likely as it was desired.  

The Prince's Answer.  
YOur excuse aggravateth your crime, saying that you did your duty, and yet despised his commandment, whose mind therein you knew not. Did you know the reason why he forbade you to fight? Think you that he was altogether ignorant what the enemies were able to do; and that they might be overcome rather by temporizing then by any stroke striking? Do you think yourself wiser than that great Fabius, who rather desired to be counted a coward, then to lose the Roman Citizens, who in that sort temporizing with great patience, was in the end the conqueror of that furious Hannibal. Do you not know, that before a man can command, he must know how to obey? the which you had no desire to do; You would willingly have the soldiers obey you in doing badly, and you would not obey the Pirince in doing well, what would they say of you, if they were living? M. Manlius Torquatus, Aulus Posthumus Tubero, and Epaminundas, they caused their own sons to die for transgressing, nay, rather for fight against their commandment, yet had they the victory; O how happy was that world then, when nothing was impossible unto those warriors so well disciplined! It is always the custom of the rash and brainsick men, to attribute their faults to the will of God, to fortune, to the sin of the people, Prince, or soldiers, as you do; forgetting your own, together with your disobedience, which being displeasing both to God and men, can bring forth nothing that good is: than you mocking the Prince after the battle is lost, do demand whether you shall fight it, alleging so many reasons (it may be forged) that it were impossible to lose it: and that which is worst, heaping sin upon sin, you bring the prince's authority in question, and stir up the people against him, but your own reasons do confound you, for do not all the members obey the head? The head being grieved, are not all the members pained? Yea, when many members are lost, the head still remaineth, and taketh care to preserve the rest, as hitherto I both have, and will still preserve my people (God willing) who are not so impudent as to desire to take an account of your faults, knowing well, that as that which concerneth the soul is referred unto the divine, the diseases of the body to the physician, and controversies for goods to the justice, so are matters of wars and the government thereof referred to the prince: but how can you do them any good service, seeing that you have done your best to overthrow them, for your own pleasure? Truly I should have thought you alone worthy to be my Lieutenant General, if you had known how to obey me: but not esteeming me for your Prince you cannot be my Lieutenant. Do you not know that in all affairs faults are not tolerable? But especially in the wars, where there needeth but one to overthrow all, they are most hurtful: where have you ever seen that it is lawful for an offender to change, or alter the laws, much more than is it for him to diminish or bring in question the authority of your Prince? But what would not you have been bold to attempt if you had been victor? Surely nothing, but even to have attempted to make yourself King. Finally, the people may remember both the good and bad services that you have done, and those which you may yet perform: but as for me I do award him to be punished, who in stead of demanding mercy and pardon for his offence, will procure a second destruction, in changing of ancient customs, whereby the people have been all hither happily governed, and preserved: for there was never any alteration of laws or customs without bringing a calamity upon that land wherein they were begun.    

Declamation 26.  
Of those who were executed, because they confessed that they had murdered a man, afterward it was found that they were guiltless.  
A judge (upon some likelihood) caused two men suspected of murder to be racked: they confess the fact, and are put to death. Some certain time after their execution, he which was supposed to be murdered returned home: whereupon the kinsmen of those that were executed accused the judge, saying:  
Alas how miserable is that Commonwealth, where those that aught to administer justice, and defend the innocents, do (in steed of protecting them from danger) put them to a most shameful death: which truly proceedeth by the admitting of cruel and bloody men to the seat of justice: who besides their wicked nature, being accustomed to this vice, would make us to believe that justice (which ought to be the twin sister unto mercy) consisteth in nothing but in barbarous cruelty: such a man is this our worthy judge, who under the colour of I know not what likelihood, because he would not seem to be idle, hath tortured and tormented two poor innocents in such sort, that to escape from his hands, they have thought it a less hurt, to die by the hands of the hangman, then to remain any more at the discretion of such a judge. Surely it were better to pardon two malefactors, then to put to death one innocent; but this man hath rather cause two innocents to die, than he himself would not be an offender. The joints of every righteous judge ought to tremble, the hairs of his head to stand upright for fear, yea, & the heart to faint when he thinketh, that by the authority of his voice (although never so just) one like unto himself, (nay more) resembling the image of God, should be put to death? Seeing the fault for which he dieth cannot be recompensed; wherefore Nero (who was accounted a monster for cruelty) had yet a kind of horror, when he signed any sentence of death. You will say that they are put to death to terrify others that are wickedly minded. I confess it, but the same aught to be done unto offenders. Alas, if this judge had been as careful to have sifted out the truth (which at the last by time is now brought to light) as he hath been cruel to torment, and ready to execute these poor innocents, neither had they died so shamefully, nor he lived to have been charged for the crime of their death: but who may henceforth believe that the very wicked ones can be rightly judged, when the good have been so wilfully cast away? Do so much then O you rightful judges, that this unjust judge may be no more neither of your number, nor of the number of men, unless you will all be partakers both of his crime and of his dishonour.  

The Answer.  
OF a truth that Commonwealth is miserable, where the judges are such as you say: and most happy where they do in no sort serve from the laws and customs long since allowed of, which I have wholly observed and kept: For the law commandeth, and the custom is, that every man suspected of crime, whereof there is a very apparent & sufficient likelihood, should be put unto the rack, although the judge were nevar so well persuaded of his innocency: and confessing the same both upon the rack, and when he is taken off, that then he should be punished: surely if I have otherwise proceeded, I am faulty; but having not done amiss, I accuse you for wronging me, and require that you make me amends for dishonouring me: consider that it is in a manner an offence for any man to live so loselie as that he may be suspected to be a malefactor; such have your kinsmen been, for they were not only suspected of me, but generally of all men, and it may be of yourselves, for you never offered to approve their innocency, until after their death: They should have taken heed that they might not have been suspected. In Athens and Rome, although Aristides and Cato had been accused of murder, yet neither the judges nor the people would ever have believed it, so much is the opinion of a man his sincerity able to do; which good opinion was never had of your kinsmen: moreover, they should not have confessed the fact with their own mouths, know you not that the judge must not be partial on neither side? But he must judge according to the witness of others, and the prisoners own confession▪ complain then upon those who have brought in such sufficient proof as caused them to be racked, complain also upon their impatience and cowardliness, in that they would not endure the torture of the rack, rather than die upon the gallows. I know well enough what regard is to be had before we pronounce the sentence of death against any man: As concerning Nero it is well known that it was but hypocrisy in him, although he seemed to have a certain horror when he signed the sentence of any condemned man, for afterwards it was apparently seen, that he caused many innocents and men of worth to die, and I verily believe that he would have made no difficulty at all, unless the party condemned had been a notable wicked fellow, for every one do love such as are like unto themselves. I did not prolong the execution, because I would not increase the affliction of the miserable by long imprisonment, as all judges do who are not subject to corruption, for the prolonging of a malefactor's life is both irksome and hurtful unto him. To conclude, let their process be throughlie examined, and if I have done any injustice I do submit myself to be punished, if not, than I appoint these my accusers to be so served.    

Declamation. 27.  
Of him that falling down from the top of his house slew another man, against whom the son of the slain man demandeth justice.  
IT happened that in the country of the Swissers a certain countryman being got upon the top of his house to see what reparation was wanting, fell down by mischance upon another man who happened to walk under the same house, & with his fall he slew him, but himself escaped. The son of the dead man caused the other to be imprisoned, and required that he might be put to death according to the law, which saith, that every mankiller ought to die, and he would not take any other amends or satisfaction: the judge of that place seeing his most cruel obstinacy gave sentence, that the said plaintiff should ascend up to the top of the same house, and throwing himself down upon the defendant, should kill him if he could. The plaintiff appealing before the signory of Berne saith.  
MY lords I beseech you to consider what men our judges are, who in steed of doing justice for the death of one of your subjects, will further add thereunto the death of another, or at the least compel him with the danger of his life to be the executioner of himself, or of another, or it may be of both twain together, which is a thing most abominable, and against all reason. Who hath ever heard that the punishment of a murderer hath been executed in this sort? And that there was ever any honest man that on a sudden was commanded to play the hangman and to perform an execution so strange? They say that he fell down by mischance: as for me I think that he did willingly throw himself down upon malice, for else he would at the least have given warning unto all men (as his duty was) that he meant to go up to the top of his house, that they might have taken heed of any inconvenience that might chance as well by the falling of the tiles, as of the like of this that now is happened: but if it were true that he fell by mischance, why should not he have been slain as well as my father? Consider my lords that the malice of men was never so great as at this day it is, and that they deui●e many means how they may hurt one another: and especially those in whom malice is rooted, which is never shown but when it may do most hurt.  

The Answer.  
COnsider my Lords the malice together with the ignorance of this man, who heaping mischief upon mischief, would make of one mischance twain. Is it not enough that one honest man be dead, But that another must against reason die also? Must the Commonwealth be in such sort maintained? Were it not better that this man should be preserved to help to defend the country if need were? Do we not know that sometimes one man is more worth than an hundred? Is not he of the same lump as they were, who in times past, by their valiant deeds in arms, were able to win that liberty which we do now enjoy? (Thanks be to God, and to the inviolable justice of this most noble Senate) Suffer not then my lords the will of this foolish malicious man to be fulfilled, unto whom the defendant hath offered such a satisfaction as is more than reasonable: but he being void of all reason, hath by his most grievous obstinacy constrained us to give this sentence, which was no less absurd than his request unreasonable, being very sure that he would never effect it: and for answer unto his frivolous assertions, we will only say that the defendant had occasion to be upon his house top, and the father of the plaintiff had nothing to do beneath, or before the same: not that the other nevertheless had any desire to hurt him, but is extremely sorry for it, neither is it likely (although he had borne him never so ill will) that he durst have hazarded his own life in that sort, but he would rather have thrown a tile at all adventures and afterwards have come down on the other side saying that he did it not. lastly, the malice and envy wherewith he would slander another, is too apparent in himself; Wherefore it may please you (most merciful lords) to give such judgement as this your subject being innocent, may be preserved to do his country some service.    

Declamation. 28.  
Of him that caused his wives chastity to be tempted, that thereby he might have some cause to put her away.  
A Certain man caused his wives chastity to be tempted by his servant, that was both fair and young, who was many times so importunate with her, that at the length her husband (being hidden in the garden) did hear how she promised unto her feigned lover, that she would yield unto his desire, the first time that her said husband should ride into the country. Whereupon he accused her to be an adulteress, and would have put her away, saying:  
NOt in vain doth Solomon say, that a virtuous woman is a crown unto her husband, but she that behaveth herself dishonestly is a corruption in his bones: Alas I did suppose that I had had a virtuous wife, but she proveth quite contrary, wherefore I am constrained to forsake her, although the wife ought to be no other, than the better part of the husband so long as she is known to be honest, but if she be otherwise, reason willeth him to make no longer account of her, for marriage being a figure of God and his church, it ought to be altogether pure and immaculate: moreover the man and the woman by this means aught to be as the soul and body, which cannot be separated but by death: but finally I know to my great discredit, that he which taketh a wife is assured of a great danger, seeing that mine without any occasion (having whatsoever a woman of her degree might desire) hath given herself over unto such a one as was even but my servant: what should not then some noble or worthy man have obtained at her hands if he had likewise tried her: but she not being courted by any other, yielded unto the first, as also because all lascivious women do very well know that such men as live without care are best able to satisfy their lust, which is the only cause that they do rather frequent the company of Lackeys and Monks who are fed without any care or cost of their own: but what a fool am I to complain, and say that this is the first offence, seeing that this perchance is not the hundredth man that hath obtained whatsoever he required of her, for commonly many faults are committed before that one be espied: but when one is disclosed, it constraineth a man to be suspicious of many more: and that woman may well be termed shameless, which suffereth her tongue to promise the performance of such a villainy: especially seeing those that are most impudent, desire that men should think that they are not lightly to be won, but that with much courting, large offers, and round rewards, they are rather enforced to yield, then upon no consideration at all to promise a victory. I marvel much why any woman can for shame live to show her face, when she herself by her own tongue condemneth her reputation: O an hundredfold miserable are they, that for so frail a solace do buy a perpetual sorrow: but what goodness can there be in that woman which hath lost her chastity? The which was well known of Susanna, Lucrece, and the Grecian Hippo who did leap into the sea, choosing there to die rather than she would lose her chastity, besides many others, who ought to serve for an example unto our matrons, but they had rather imitate Flora, Thais, and Lamia, wherefore as they do deserve to be heirs of their vice, so likewise ought they to inherit the same renown: as for me I am sure if I do remain any longer with this woman, that not only my goods and credit, but also my body and soul shall be in danger of losing, for such as are harlots do steal from their husbands to give their companions, and sometimes they make them their husband's murderers, at such a time when as soul and body do both perish together: to prevent so great a mischief (I speak to you my masters that are her kinsmen) I know not what your kinswoman was when you gave her to me, but I am very sure that I redeliver her unto you a most dishonest woman, wherefore I do but my duty in putting her away, seeing that Caesar did put away his wife, because he found Claudius in his house appareled like a woman at such time as the women were about their sacrifice, and not knowing whether he meant to have defiled his wife, he only alleged this for all his reason: It behoveth (saith he) the wife of Caesar to be as free from suspicion, as she ought to be from fault: receive then your kinswoman charged with an evident crime.  

The Answer of the kinsmen, beginning at the end of the accusation.  
O What a proud fellow is this, that would compare himself unto Caesar, O what a great credit he doth himself in thinking to discredit us, when he saith, That he knoweth not what our kinswoman was when she came unto him: but that he knoweth well how he restoreth her unto us worse than dishonest, truly he hath made a fair piece of work, in causing her to be tempted, to make her seem such a one: in sooth that man which will be a bawd unto his wife, doth deserve (as you do) to lose his goods, life, reputation, and soul also. We know well enough, that the best part in a woman is her chastity, and how much they are to prefer it before all other graces: so also you cannot deny but that the dishonesty consisteth in the deed, and not in a word spoken without knowing to what intent: what can you tell whether she promised him for fear lest he would have forced her, seeing her alone? Or because she would cause you to know the unfaithfulness of your servant, and by that means conserve both your credit and her own? Neither do we likewise deny that she hath made a promise unto the first that courted her, for being virtuous, and so known, there was never any man that durst be so bold to ask her any such matter, as also your servant durst not have presumed, if you yourself had not encouraged him: he then which seeketh for that which he would not find, ought not to complain, if he find that which he would not have sought: but it is very likely that yourself was very certain that she would never have performed her promise, seeing you had no will to see the trial thereof, for what could you have lost thereby, if she be such a one as you say she is? But you know very well that she is better than you deserve: therefore because you hated her virtue, you would be rid of her: surely you allege Solomon very well for your advantage, as you think; and you say not amiss when you affirm, that the wife ought to be the better half of her husband, for certainly the same is seen in our kinswoman, seeing that you are of no account at all, wherefore you do not deserve that she should be your crown. Lastly were she less honest, she might deny that which you cannot prove, but seeing that she hath made no promise, but to quite herself and to save your reputation and her own: we require that you may first make amends for slandering her, and afterwards we will not refuse to take her away from such a wicked man as you are.    

Declamation. 29.  
Of a bastard who demanded the performance of his father's will, although the house and the goods were burned.  
A Man making his last Will and testament, left all his goods unto two of his sons lawfully begotten, upon condition that they should give a thousand crowns unto his bastard. Now it chanced that during the funerals, the house, and the most of the best stuff therein was burned, so that the remainder of all the goods and movables that were left, amounted not to three thousand crowns: Nevertheless the bastard demandeth a thousand thereof, the eldest son consented, the younger resisted it, saying:  
WHat reason is there to give a greater portion unto a bastard, then is left for the lawful children? Seeing the mischance that is happened, moreover it is to be doubted whether our father might or aught to make a will in such sort, seeing that reason bindeth the fathers so soon as they have children, to believe that they (being no other than true administrators of their goods) ought to leave them unto their children, at the least in such quantity as they have received them from their fathers: but let us inquire of this claiming bastard, (that with so great instance demandeth the accomplishment of our father's last Will) that if he had bequeathed him an hundred blows with a staff, whether he would willingly receive them? I believe he would not: or if he had imposed him to do some great penance for him, or to accomplish some great vow or pilgrimage, a man should then have seen how ready he would be to perform it: but for the most part it is a custom that those which have stood the dead in no stead, except it be to discredit them, will nevertheless desire the best part of their goods, before those that have better deserved them: but what is he? Unless he be such a one as he saith; That is, a manifest witness of our father's shame: and if he be not such a one, what is that which he requireth, and wherefore doth he claim it? Especially seeing that such a mischance is happened, as the best part of our goods is lost before that any part of the Testament could be performed. As for my brother, if he will give away his goods, I will not hinder him, but I will keep mine if I can: and the rather, because that if the worst do happen, yet cannot he claim any further part in our goods but only such a reasonable portion, according to the value of it now (considering our loss) as may proportionably answer the value of that which it was worth at the same time when the Will was made; and yet if I do bestow this liberality upon him, it is for the love of our late deceased father, and not for his own sake.  

The Answer.  
THe judges are too just to allow your saying, and yet more righteous should they be if they caused him to be chastised, that maketh a doubt whether his father may dispose his goods at his own pleasure, having as he had a good understanding, and a perfect memory, so that he remembering me, how obedient and serviceable I was always unto him, was desirous to show that he knew thereby that I was undoubtedly his son, and for such a one was he willing to acknowledge me, giving me a certain portion of those goods which were his, and none of yours: wherefore it must no more be demanded who I am, what I require, or why? For I tell you that I am son to the testator, which you say was your father, I do demand a thousand crowns, because that his Will declareth that you should give them unto me: but as for the blows with a staff whereof you speak, I think they are rather due unto you, in that you desire to abuse your father's soul: what do you know if by this means, he was desirous to unburden his soul of the sin that he hath committed in begetting me, less in reputation than you? concerning the vows and pilgrimages, if they had been enjoined me, I would have acquitted myself therein more willingly than you do in that whereunto you were enjoined: but you would judge my heart by the malice of your own, wherefore not I, but yourself serve for a discredit unto our father; for some may think that for want of good education and chastisement you are become so mischievous▪ moreover, I neither can in any thing, nor for any thing be partaker of your loss, seeing that since the decease of our father, you have had the goods in your possession: if you had given them me to keep, I should have been bound to answer it, but not being so, I will not forgive you any thing: and like as you say that you will keep your own, even so will I get mine own if I can, and if I ought to forgive any part thereof, it shall be rather unto your brother then to you, because he will not deceive me; but as the worst wheel in the cart maketh the greatest noise, and vildest beast in the Herd is most stubborn and untoward to rule, even so the example of your brother manifesteth your iniquity, and showeth that you are contrary to his just meaning, the which nevertheless by the help of God, and the righteous favour of the judge, shall but redound to your shame and hindrance.    

Declamation. 30.  
Of a knight of Rhodes, that would enter into Religion again, after that he had given over his Order, to take a wife.  
Whilst the Knights were yet remaining in Rhodes, a certain knight amongst them gave over his charge unto the great master of that order, and by virtue of a dispensation did betrothe himself unto a young gentlewoman: but upon the marriage day he understood that she was his cous●●● German, whereupon he leaving her, requireth to be received again into the order of the knights, and that his charge might be restored unto him, but the great master having already bestowed the same, denied him both the one and the other, saying:  
IT is very unseemly for a wiseman to say, I thought not upon any such, or the like matter: for a discreet man should diligently foresee all things before he determine any thing, and truly he that is not wise and very discreet, deserveth not to be a knight, much less a knight of this order, and a commander, seeing no knights are more worthy than they; because they keep even the very key of Christendom. Wherefore you must not think (gentleman) that the forsaking, and receiving again into this holy order of our knighthood, is so easy to be done as it is in the courts of some Prince, where for the most part, it is sufficient if they be but only knights in name, or as it is commonly said, dubbed but with a Virgin sword: for in our order above all things, constancy joined with prudence and discretion is requisite, so that finding none of these three to remain in you, I cannot deem you worthy to enter into this order, & much less to repossess a place of command: but it may be that this presumption of yours proceedeth because you were over easily admitted at the first; know then that it was upon the hope, that being young, and frequenting the company of ancient knights, you might easily imitate their valour, wherein you showing some likelihood there was a commanders place bestowed upon you to encourage you therein altogether, but you have greatly deceived our hope, when without any consideration at all you have given over so great a credit and honour, to wed such a one with whom you had no acquaintance at all: is there any folly more great then to leave a certainty for an incertainty? If you committed this fault because you were in love with the gentlewoman, you condemn yourself to be voluptuous, and so consequently unworthy of our Order, where you have made a vow of chastity, which is maintained by the exercise of the body, and by ●asting: wherefore S. Barnard said well unto his Monks; Eat you so sparingly, that the remembrance of bread may be rather in your mind, than the desire of lust: by this means the good knights do harden themselves and learn to suffer constantly the extremity of a siege or of a long sea voyage. If you have done it through ambition, you are as little excusable, Because that ambition is like unto a fire which burneth all before it, and never dieth so long as any thing remaineth to maintain it: and also because it judgeth all things to be lawful; our order can never put any trust in you; or if you have forsaken the order because you make no great account of it, You will never do any good for it: You may answer that the good is seldom known before it be lost, I reply unto you that they which neither do know, nor have known what is good, and therefore have suffered it to be lost, deserve in no sort to have it again: therefore it is your best way to purchase it by some other means. Do you say that your felicity depended only upon this marriage? Then afterwards seeing you could not accomplish it, you would require again that which you have forsaken, without any other reason: you know that our profession is to war against the Turk, wherefore the only means to reobtain that which you demand of us, is to employ yourself in such sort against our enemy, as we may know the same valour, discretion, prudence, & constancy to be remaining in you, which hitherto you have not shown: then forgetting all former faults, we shall imagine how we may honour and reward you again, as already we have done, upon hope that you should have been such a one as you ought, and yet may if you endeavour yourself so to be.  

The Answer.  
Truly that man is most wise who premeditateth and foreseeth whatsoever may afterwards happen, but I would feign know where such men are to be found, that I might dwell amongst them as their slave if otherwise I could not? For so yet should I esteem myself happy; but I believe that such men are more rare than the Phoenix: for that point which you require to be in me, passeth all human power, because that either secretly or openly the most part of men do know well that many matters do fall out far otherwise then they would ever have thought they should, and divers chances may happen unto them whereof they never imagined. Moreover, I am not ignorant that all these perfections which you allege, are required in him which will be a knight: I do likewise consider the worthiness of our order, and do know that the obtaining, giving over, and reobtaining of the same is difficult: and so will it be as hardly proved that I am less worthy than the most part of those that are of the same order, the which I will prove body to body against those which will or dare maintain the contrary; and it is a special point to be doubted whether I have left the same or no, seeing that the effect for which I desired leave to departed is not accomplished. I departed to be married, but am I so for all that? No surely; for it is impossible that so I should be, because it was not lawful: do you not know that marriages are made in heaven, and effected here on earth? What can you tell whether it was God's pleasure that by this means only I should come to the knowledge of my kinswoman? Whom especially, before I knew her, I loved with a sincere and chaste love, provoked thereunto by an honest instinct of nature, and now by the will of God made manifest, to make you know that neither voluptuousness nor ambition induced me to love her, but only the nearness of blood, which yet being unknown, might notwithstanding move the hearts of men: being than not departed for any such cause wherewith you wrongfully accuse me; I say and do maintain that not only I may, but I also aught to re-enter again into mine order: yea and you might and ought to constrain me thereunto, seeing that the effect for the which I gave it over hath not accordingly succeeded: but since I see, chiefly by your slanderous reproaches, that you are wholly bend against me, I appeal from your will to the censure of all the members of this order, without whom you cannot be General, were you a thousand times greater than you are.    

Declamation. 31.  
Of a judge who paid three thousand crowns to cause a murderer to be hanged.  
A Certain nation received one to be their prince, who maketh an oath, that he will maintain them in all their privileges, rights, and customs: It happened that the judge appointed by the same Prince would have caused a murderer to be hanged: the kinsmen of the malefactor do prove by their privileges, that he might redeem his life for three thousand crowns: the judge caused him to be hanged, and paid himself three thousand crowns for having put him to death; his kindred appeal unto the Prince, and say:  
MOst mighty and just Prince, the renown of your equity hath incited us to become your most loyal, most loving, most humble, & most faithful subjects, and to choose you for our sovereign Prince, and most redoubted lord: whereby this good is happened unto us, that we have always found in you such justice and bounty as is requisite; as also your Majesty shall ever find in us all dutiful obedience: but what shall we say? Seeing that this happiness of your good meaning, is abused by the malice of your ministers, and especially by the chiefest, which is he that ought to administer unto us justice in your behalf, and to have a respect that we may be maintained in our rights, privileges, and customs, according as it hath pleased your Majesty to take your oath: but he which is our judge hath had justice in derision, and under the shadow thereof hath committed cruelty, for having condemned one of our Citizens to die for a manslaughter, we showed him that which he ought not to be ignorant of, that is to say, how our privileges do permit that such a trespass may be satisfied with the payment of three thousand crowns, appliable according to the ordinances in such cases provided, whereupon he hath thereby taken an occasion to put one of our Citizens to an ignominious death, to the great dishonour of all his lineage, saying that he shall be acquitted in paying the said forfeit; as if there were no difference between the kill of a man in cold blood, through a certain malice or contempt (especially in derision of justice of the Commonwealth, and of the laws and privileges thereof, to cause one die shamefully▪ and cruelly by the hands of an hangman) and the flaying of one's enemy, by whom a man is provoked thereunto through some wrong, or other just cause of malice. But wherein you unjust judge had this our Citizen offended you? Seeing that you have no part in the Commonwealth, but like an hired servant in a house, you are to abide therein only the appointed time of your office, which is given unto you not to abolish our privileges, but to maintain them: all the other Citizens were more interessed in this fact than you, and nevethelesse you alone have been desirous of revenge; truly cruelty becometh no man, but it is most odious in Princes and judges, more than in any others: seeing that our Prince is altogether free from this vice, ought not you to follow his example? Or at the least you ought not to have erred from the same so reproachfully. If too sharp and rigorous laws are made more to terrify men then to destroy them, wherefore have you rather desired to aggravate our laws then to perform them? Who hath made you more wise than our Ancestors, who have invented this privilege for the conservation of the Citizens? Do you not know that justice without mercy is injustice? How great cruelty is it then, to turn mercy into rigour? Most unjust is the sentence which preventeth judgement, and such hath yours been, for cruelty deprived you of all judgement when you pronounced the same. Do you not know that whilst you judge other men, God judgeth you? How would you do then if he should judge you according to your your deserts? But who hath moved you to commit this new cruelty? Do you not know that all innovation of laws & customs is no less dangerous than scandalous? To conclude, you have offended the Prince in resisting of his oath, and wronged his subjects in breaking their pruiledges: both the one and the other offence deserveth death: whereupon we beseech you (most righteous Prince) that he which hath contemned your authority, justice, and our privileges, may be punished, that all the judges hereafter may thereby take an example; Seeing that if our enemies had not given him the money, he would never have purchased at so great a charge, an unlawful means to exercise his cruelty against your subject, and our privileges.  

The Answer.  
IF any law be unjust or pernicious, it is that which is not equal to all men; but how can that be equal which causeth the greatest malefactors to escape for money? As this privilege doth allow, which imboldeneth the rich that aught to secure the poor, not only to wrong them, but also to murder them, because he knoweth very well that he shall be acquitted for money, the which being paid, he afterwards committeth a thousand mischiefs to get that which he hath spent, into his purse again: for what wickedness will not such a one be bold to commit, that maketh no conscience to kill his equal? Or it may be such a one as is better than himself? But if the law or your privilege be unjust, then have not I offended: Or if I have misdone, in paying the forfeiture I am acquitted. Why should he be punished which procureth the death of a malefactor; Seeing that he which murdereth an innocent is quit for money? Concerning the difference of cold blood, and to cause one to die by the hands of the hangman, that doth in no sort aggravate the offence: for being an offender, he hath thereby had the better means to acknowledge his fault, and to crave pardon of God, especially to dispose of his worldly cares and family, the which he gave no leisure unto the other to do: and for the reproach, it consisteth not in the manner of the death, but in the cause of the death; For if any man should be hanged for having done some good unto his country, his death should nevertheless be accounted honourable, but he which is hurtful unto the Commonwealth (although he die in his bed amongst his kindred) yet should his death be accounted odious. It is not I then that am cause of his shame, but the murder which he hath committed. I confess indeed that he never offended me, but rather justice; so likewise I caused him not to die, but to maintain equity: and not being able to do it without disbursing of money, I did rather choose to pay it, then to leave justice undone. I have not infringed or broken your privilege, but only showed that it is unlawful, and that it ought to be amended. I cannot tell whether your ancestors were more wise than I, but I dare well say that they were rich men, who without the consent of the poor men, invented this privilege: for there was never any tyranny more manifest, which yourselves ought to abolish, you being subject to a most just Prince: therefore I desired to admonish you thereof at mine own proper costs and charges. Likewise I know that I am not the first which hath been slandered for mine honest meaning, in desiring to change wicked customs into good; for Solon and Lycurgus were not free from the like, and before them Moses, than Socrates who was put to death for no other cause. But considering that justice alone is the sovereign of all other virtues, and ruleth all mortal wights, because that without her none can live in safety, especially seeing that without it the Commonwealth is like unto a body which being corrupted with evil humours doth with lanquishing pine away, I have neglected all other things, especially to maintain the same; and you have no cause to complain on me for setting as little by my life as by my goods. Wherefore without answering any further to your slanderous reproaches, trusting unto the equity of the Prince, I do freely submit my goods, honour, and life unto his most just judgement.    

Declamation. 32.  
Of those that would depose the King because he had lost the battle.  
IT is the custom of a certain people that the men of war do choose the King. It happeneth that the said King doth lead his men unto the wars, where all his soldiers are overthrown, only he with a very small number escaped, so that the Citizens and people are constrained to take arms to defend them from the conquerors, and the better to perform the same, they would choose another king: but the foresaid king resisteth them, saying:  
AS there is but one only God in heaven, and one sun to lighten the world, so likewise cannot you have two kings over you, neither yet can you depose or change your king at your pleasure: for the power of kings cometh of God, which holdeth their hearts in his hand: how dare you then but only think such a wickedness as to be desirous to change or depose him who is anointed and chosen of God to reign over you? Did not David put him to death which made his boast that he had slain Saul? And although that David were already anointed king of Israel, yet was king Saul not deposed until his death. You say that I have governed the wars ill, I deny it: for I went thither myself, and neither wanting valour nor skill, I did valiantly fight to the great endangering of mine own person. I have not neglected my duty in fight, but God hath given the victory to the enemies: wherefore would God have preserved me from so great a danger, unless it were to manifest the especial care that he hath over kings, and that it were his pleasure that I should yet reign over you? And not another? How dare you then imagine to change him whom he hath first given unto you, and then afterwards so miraculously preserved? If you stand in doubt whether I deserve the dignity or not, the elective voices of so many valiant men, which have only judged me above all the rest of this realm for the worthiest to be your king, aught to assure you thereof: but as hope doth torment men's hearts no less than fear and other passions, so some of you hoping to attain unto the kingly dignity, have not the patience to stay until it be void by my death whereby it plainly appeareth, that covetousness never judgeth any thing to be unlawful: the people have nothing to do to depose their king, but God by depriving him of life, who by his grace, and for your good, hath been pleased to save me: will you then contradict his will? But although I had for want of skill been the cause of our loss, will you say that you must needs choose another, that may do as much or worse? He which hath once done amiss, may when he beginneth again make amends, but thanks be to God as I want not experience, so have I not failed to do that which was requisite, but it may be it was our sins that have provoked God's wrath against us, who by our contrition and amendment of life is first to be appeased, than he being merciful unto us, we shall not only be revenged of our enemies, but he will also give us power to subdue those that would oppress us: yet that this shall be done under any other than I, whilst I live, I hope that good God will never suffer it, seeing that to determine but such a matter were to heap sin upon sin.  

The Answer.  
WE do neither require two kings, neither do we desire to change our king, for we have none: who made you king over us? are not they dead that chose you for their king? You are then king over the dead: Wherefore reason would that you should be sent unto them. When you were chosen we were Citizens, now through your fault we are constrained to be soldiers. It is the ancient custom that the men of war do choose the king, we will then choose one; Seeing that yourself are the cause that we have changed our quality, what reason is there that you should remain in yours? Concerning the example of David and Saul, it nothing concerneth our matter: for the greatest part of every action consisteth in the time and place; therefore it must be considered, that as our time now▪ is not the like unto the time then, so also that we are here, and not in Palestine. Moreover, we have no more Prophets to anoint the kings, because God for our sins doth no more elect kings by miracle: wherefore it commonly happeneth, that the most wicked man attaineth to that dignity, and chiefly when the election remaineth in the power of the soldiers: for seldom is there found any equity amongst those that follow the wars, so that our misery is lamentable, seeing that your ambitious rashness compelleth us of Citizens to become soldiers. We know well (to our great prejudice) that you yourself did go unto the wars; but of your industry, valour, and duty, no man beareth witness except yourself: but the widows and orphans of those whom you have led unto the slaughter, with a far greater number, can witness the contrary: and they do affirm, that you had great wrong to escape, because so many valiant men are lost through your default, the which is more punishable than excusable. To say likewise that God hath preserved you by some his especial providence, it may very well be: because he would send you back hither to receive punishment for your rashness, by that spectacle somewhat to comfort the multitude of those whom you have made miserable: neither did the elective voice of the soldiers choose you as the best man of the land, but as he that was most conformable to their desire, and that would give them the most liberty to do ill; for so were Otho, Galba, Vitelius, and other harebrain men chosen by the soldiers for Emperors. As for ambition and covetousness, wherewith you accuse us by presumption, you do evidently show, that it remaineth in you. In saying also that he which hath once done amiss becometh afterwards more expert: the same is doubtful, for even in his first fault he showeth that he wanteth judgement, and no man ought to presume to make himself cunning by the prejudice of so many others, and with no less than the hazard of a whole realm. In every action it is odious to err, but in the wars it is most hurtful, so that to do amiss therein but one time only, is far too much. We do not depose you at all, for henceforth you are king no more, neither yet ought you to be any thing if we should justly proceed against you, but we refer that unto the discretion of the king which shall be chosen. As concerning contrition and good works to make satisfaction for our sins, it cannot choose but be a good deed to root out him from amongst us which is the cause of our mischief. To affirm that God will never suffer us to obtain the victory under any other but you: You only say it, and the opinion of all the wisest is quite contrary, wherefore it is best to follow the opinion of many which have not as yet erred, than the judgement of one only man, which hath brought us into this misery wherein we now remain through his fault.    

Declamation. 33.  
Of the Athenians who denied to pay unto the Thebans that which they ought.  
THe Athenians did owe six hundred thousand talents of pure silver unto the Thebans. It chanced that Alexander did by force of Arms take the city of Thebes, and amongst other riches he found the Athenians obligation, (wherewith to gratify the said debtors, he restored it unto them: but after the death of Alexander, the Thebans demanded the said sum of the Athenians, who answered, That seeing they had recovered their obligation, they were not in any sort indebted unto them; with these reasons hereafter ensuing.  
YOu say worthy Thebans that we do owe you six hundred thousand talents, the proof thereof is very hard, seeing that it is well known of old, that you never lent any such sums without good assurance, and taking sufficient bands of the debtors: show us then if you have any bond of ours, and then we shall think upon the means to satisfy it. You say we had one, but Alexander took it from us, and restored it to you: if it be so, consider what he was that took it from you, and redelivered it unto us, was it not Alexander sent from the gods, not only to subdue you and us, but almost all the world? At that time, were not your goods only in his power, but also your lives? Do you grieve that a part is lacking, seeing that the whole might as well have been lost? Do you not know that he came to leave you what he thought good, and to take from you that which he knew to be superfluous? Seeing that superfluity is not only troublesome and painful, but also hurtful: for inciting the hearts of such as possess it unto pride and insolency, it is oftentimes the cause of their misery: in like sort such is the judgement of the gods, that they which have flocked together to afflict many, should afterwards be afflicted themselves by one alone, and all that which they have in many years purloined from others, should afterwards in one day be taken away from them by the same man: in like manner hath it befallen you noble Thebans even as you say: Alexander hath taken away our obligation from you, to restore it to us, it is the will of the gods, who in process of time have wrought such alterations, wherefore it may so fall out in time to come, that you (owing unto us so much silver) or more, you may likewise pay us after the same sort. That we are quit from you it cannot be denied, seeing that you have no bond of ours: for to what end are bonds made but to compel such as will not pay? Constrain us then by our obligation to pay you, or cease from demanding any thing of us: but although it were so as you say, that Alexander had yielded up our obligation, what do you know whether we have paid it unto him; Who then was Lord not only of your goods, but also of your lives? If we have paid it him, why should we pay it again? And if he have liberally bestowed it upon us, We have both thanked him, and are also yet beholding unto his posterity, yea, unto his ashes for the same, why would you, or how can you then bind us twice for one only debt? That cannot be done Thebans, wherefore it shall be but well that you surcease to importune us any further: considering that those which weary others, take small rest themselves, and especially, that labour is lost which profiteth nothing at all; as yours hath been and always will be concerning this matter, and although you take herein what course you shall think most expedient, yet you must believe that we are able to yield you a reason for any thing that you shall demand at our hand: but see that you remember this; that he which the to molest another, doth oftentimes work his own overthrow.  

The Answer.  
THere is nothing more true (you ingrateful Athenians) than our speech, when we say that you do own us six hundred thousand talents; and that it is so, the prosperity wherein we have placed you, and the misery wherein you were, are two witnesses very sufficient to prove our reason and your ingratitude: which truly is a pernicious vice, but in the end more hurtful unto those that use it then unto any other, wherefore it is a folly in you to look for any advancement thereby: but although it were not so, what proof would you have more plain than your own conscience, if you would believe that which is able to testify unto you? And think not but that the same obligation which Alexander hath restored unto you will be a witness against you; Yea and to bring a greater mischief upon you being in your hands then when it was in ours: for seeing that it was possible for us to lose that which we had gained justly, what think you will become of that which you do detain and possess wrongfully? Assure you that this iniquity will bring you unto an extreme necessity, more great than that from which we have freed you by our courtesy: lending you that which you now do wickedly deny us. As for Alexander, he had no power over us when we lent you the silver, therefore he could in no sort acquit you thereof. If then the fire by mischance had burned your bond, or if a thief having stolen it, should have restored it unto you, should you for all that be freed of the debt? It seemeth no; Make account that there is no other difference betwixt a thief and Alexander, but only that the one stealeth by subtlety, and the other by force: as that Pirate whom he had taken said unto the same Alexander, Because (saith he) that I have but one ship, I am called a thief, but because thou art able to steal more than I, thou art called a king. But why are you not ashamed to be beholding for a shrewd turn unto one, whose father and he have been always mortal enemies to the liberty of Greece? take example by the gain which he hath made, after so many extortions. Is not he miserably dead, by the means of his most familiar friends? And those were his heirs which were not so much as any thing a kin unto him; who did spend his treasure and goods in destroying one another: the which should make you wise, O you Athenians, and cause you to surcease this folly, to say that you are quit, having received your bond from one, who hath taken it from us by force; and who for this deed and other such like, did shamefully die as he deserved: moreover, it is not likely that he was sent from the gods to subdue us, but true it is that by their permission we were by him unjustly tirannised over, and for our sins he was as a scourge of the Gods, but their anger ceasing, he perished also. But who did ever, see that a debtor ought to be the judge of his creditors actions, as you would be of ours? Seeing that you are utterly blinded with passion: for whilst you accuse us of pride, and covetousness, you do not consider that yourselves are guilty of treason and theft: because you have cleaved unto the capital enemy of Greece, and for the same cause you will detain from us that which we did lend unto you in your greatest need: concerning that which you speak of Time, as being the minister of the gods, it may be the same gods of whom you speak in mockery, will so bring it to pass, as time shall compel you shortly, not only to satisfy us, but also to become more miserable than ever you were, when you shall entreat for our aid, the which now you do ingratefullie forget. In like sort you must not allege that you have paid your obligation unto Alexander, for we know very well that you never had less means to do it then at that time, and although you should truly have paid it, yet were it of no import, nor any satisfaction unto us: for you neither ought it unto him, nor had he any letter of attorney from us to receive it; he might then very well deliver you your obligation, but yet he could not forgive you the debt whereunto he had no right at all: determine than you Athenians to satisfy us by fair means, if you will not have us to employ both our own and our friends forces, together with the help of the gods the just judges of your iniquities.    

Declamation. 34.  
Of him that is in trouble for accusing a man of crime, for which he is committed to prison, and there dieth.  
A Man accuseth another for an offence, the party accused dieth in prison whilst the informations are in making, the accuser cannot sufficiently prove his accusation. Whereupon the kindred of the accused do require to have the accuser punished with such punishment as the crime deserved, wherewith he accused the other. And they say:  
Truly the weakness of man is such, as every one esteemeth his own misery more great, and lamentable than he doth another man's: but what is he which can say that we pass the bounds of reason, when we say that this our kinsman deceased, is worthy to be greatly lamented; And that he which is the cause of his death deserveth most severe punishment? seeing that he hath not only abridged his days, but that which is worse, hath endeavoured to cause him to die most shamefully; especially to the great prejudice of his poor family, and all his lineage: and his purpose hath not failed in any sort, seeing that the poor man is dead in prison, although he never once deserved to come into the same. And it is not to be thought a small matter to imprison a man, seeing that in Athens those which died in prison could never be buried in the sepulchre of their ancestors: as if they would thereby infer, that they which died in such a place, might slain the tombs of those that died with honour and reputation of virtue: and the same custom is yet used in sundry most famous cities, as amongst others at Paris, the chief city of France, where they do observe this law, that he which but for debt only passeth the wicket of a prison, shall never after be capable of any office or other public promotion: how much more than for suspicion of crime? There is nothing more apparent, then that this poor man seeing himself in such disgrace, died even for very grief; & the wicked wretch that hath accused him is yet living in health: but let us see what likelihood there is in his accusation, seeing that yet after the death of the accused he cannot prove his saying? I may therefore now say, that he could not be suffered to allege any reasons for his own defence neither might take any acceptions against the witnesses, nor yet be allowed openly to prove his innocency, but with the least suspicion that might be he should have been constrained to abide the sentence of condemnation. Be you assured, O you righteous judges, That this accusation proceedeth by the instigation of divers malicious persons, who if need had been would likewise have served for witnesses against him: but their malice or ill will ending by the death of this miserable man, they do also forsake this ungracious fellow in his greatest need. Such is the just judgement of God that the wicked do oftentimes perish even by their own wickedness: but for all that, their offence is not any whit diminished, neither is this poor dead man alone, but his distressed widow, children, and all his kindred (unto whom he was a true friend) any lot the less harmed: wherefore it may well be said that this lewd forger of untroths, hath murdered both this man here, and overthrown the others: yea and some are yet likely to die for want of his life that now is dead: I mean the poor children, and the miserable widow. Then what gibbet, what sword, what halter, what wheel, or what torments are sufficient to punish thoroughly this execrable wretch, which is the cause of so many mischiefs? For first he hath gone about to prosecute his death, and next he hath endeavoured to defame him: alas he is dead, and reputed for infamous by those which have heard his accusation, and not afterwards known his innocency: but many seeing him no more, will yet think that there was favour showed him in causing him to die in prison as a malefactor, unless this abominable fellow as a public spectacle, do not possess the same place whereunto he pretended by his false accusation to bring the innocent: consider than you just judges as well the misery of the dead and his allies, as the execrable iniquity of the false accuser, and do you gain as much favour at the hands of God, and praise in the world by your just judgement, as he hath gotten sin and infamy by his wickedness.  

The Answer of the accuser.  
THere is nothing more true than that I have justly accused him, whom I know not by what death he is deprived of that due punishment which he deserved, wherefore the Proverb may be truly verified by him, which saith, That the gallows is not so much made for the thieves as for the unfortunate; for if he had not been dead, the witnesses of his iniquity would have proceeded as they ought, who as mine adversaries say, do forsake me in my need: yet not for those reasons which they allege, but because they are corrupted as well by the bribes of the widow and kindred of the malefactor, as also by the importunate requests and threats of others more mighty than they: for such is the misery of our age, that men are now more easy to be corrupted then ever they were: moreover, I cannot but suspect that his kindred fearing least the truth should come to light, have poisoned him in prison, yea and it may be by his own consent; doubting that although all the witnesses might be very well corrupted, yet if I myself would have been bound unto the rack against him, to have proved to his face that my accusation was most true. I was not then the cause either of his imprisonment, his discredit, nor yet of his death; but his offence was the occasion of all: yea and by his death he hath deprived me of the means to prove the same, thereby to bring my reputation in question: and that it is so, if any of these stout fellows my adversaries (who now think to face me out at their pleasure) will maintain the innocency of their dead kinsman against me upon the rack, I will not only there adventure my credit, but also my life: the like will I also do against the proudest of those witnesses, who being corrupted with bribes are become dumb. But let a nigh one show me some reason why I should accuse him wrongfully; seeing that twixt him and me there was never any malice, quarrel, or other occasion: whereby it may clearly appear, that the true and only zeal of justice enforced me to accuse him, for otherwise I had no reason to procure so many, and so mighty enemies against me. To conclude, by the foresaid reasons it may appear, whether he himself hath not been the cause of his own mischief: therefore none but himself deserveth to be blamed or harmed for it.    

Declamation. 35.  
Of the son of abondwoman which would disinherit his brother.  
THe law of bondmen or slaves is yet in Spain, that those which have bought them (be they Christians or no, they may kill them) or make them do what they will. Whereupon it chanced that a man bought a maiden slave, and having lain with her, she bore him a son: some few days after she died; wherefore the foresaid man bought another bondwoman to nurse up his son, and he did so much also with her, that she likewise brought him forth another son; she lived with him and ruled his house, till that the children were great, and that the father happened to die, who by his Will appointed that the eldest brother should part the goods, and the youngest should choose. He made no mention at all of the woman, so that she still remained a slave: and the eldest son took occasion thereby to defraud his brother of his inheritance or pretended patrimony: for to make his partition, he placed the mother of his brother on the one side, and the goods on the other, saying, choose take thy mother and leave me the rest of the goods, or take the goods and leave me thy mother: the other seeing this extremity would not choose, but accused his brother of deceit or punishable cozenage, saying:  
THe law commandeth, and the Will appointeth, that thou oughtest to part, and I ought to choose; but thou neither hast parted, nor yet can I choose, for the duty and love which I bear unto my mother, compelleth me not to leave her, and especially at the discretion of so wicked a man as thou art, seeing that thou inforcest me to three extremes, the one is to forsake my mother, or to disherit my brother, or lastly to compel me and my mother to live continually in poverty. Great is thy malice to enforce me to become as wicked as thou art; callest thou this a partition, to place all the care on the one side, and all the goods on the other? My mother is grown old in the keeping and increasing those goods which thou wouldst usurp, and now being weak and unprofitable, thou wouldst have her to die for hunger with me, or else that she should abide in extreme misery at thy discretion: dost not thou know that thou art the son of a bondwoman as well as I? Yea, and that thy mother never got thee any good toward household? but my mother gave thee suck, and nursed thee, what ingratitude can then be more great than thine? Make such a partition at the least as I may remain without blame in the choosing, and yet not quite without living. If deceit or punishable cozenage is distinguished by taking from any man that which is his, than thou dost worse, for thou not only leavest me nothing▪ but thou increasest my misery: this is not the first time wherein the deceivers do seek to cloak or colour their deceits with some law or statute, unhappily wrested, but I hope that the judges will have a respect unto my integrity, and reprove thy detestable iniquity.  

The Answer.  
I Have parted better than thou canst choose, wherefore there is no abuse in the partition, but in the election; For on the one side, I do set thee riches, and on the other side immortal honour, for loving thy mother best, which shall serve for an eternal memory and glory. How many are there that would buy such a felicity with the price of their lives? As Curtius; who for the good of the Commonwealth leapt headlong into a burning gulf: Scevola burned his hand because he miss the kill of Porcen●a. Horatius fought alone against the whole army of the Tuscans, and defended the bridge which he caused to be broken down behind his back, Hercules and Alexander fought for glory, not only against men, but also with lions and other beasts, why wilt not thou then gain this glory, when thou mayst obtain it without any danger of thy person. lastly, seeing that profit and honour cannot go together, and that thou shunnest honour, leave it to me, and take thou the profit. I had rather have the renown to love my stepmother better than thou dost thine own mother; then to have all the goods in the world: moreover, he carrieth away no small portion of the patrimony, which shall have her who hath long time governed the whole as thou confessest: I am of the mind that our father left her still a bondwoman, to the end that thou shouldst have no other thing but her, or at the least that by the same it might be known which of us is most worthy. I do not say that I will not give any other thing unto thee, but I would first see if thou deservest it, and that thou mightest also acknowledge my liberality: but as for the judges they are too righteous to force the laws, and to alter the last Will of our father.    

Declamation. 36.  
Of Simon who put himself into prison to redeem his father thence being dead, afterwards how he slew his wife being daughter unto him that had made him his heir, and paid his debt.  
THe law saith, that if any man take his wife in adultery, he may kill them both and not offend the law. Whereupon it chanced that a noble Senator named Milciades a man of honest reputation, was through malice accused for some offence, and condemned to a great fine of money, so as not having wherewith to pay the same, he was imprisoned and there dieth: and because the law commanded that those which died in prison should not be buried else where but in the same prison, unless any man paid his debts: Simon the son of the deceased Milciades, yielded himself a prisoner in his father's place, to the end that he might be buried with his ancestors. He remaining in that sort a prisoner without any means or hope ever to come forth, one named Callies a man very rich, but of bad reputation, offered to pay his debt, and to make him his heir if he would take his only daughter in marriage; Simon consented thereunto, he was delivered, and married with the daughter of Callias: within a while after he took her in adultery, he therefore causeth Callias to be called, who entreateth for his daughter that could not deny her fault. Simon slew her in the presence of Callias, who afterwards acused him of ingratitude, which amongst the Athenians was a punishable vice.  

The accusation of Callias.  
I Had made thee double bounden unto me, therefore is thy ingratitude the more manifest; I did redeem thee from prison, where thou shouldest have rotten; and being poor, I made thee both my son in law, and mine heir: I do affirm, that thou hast induced thy thy wife to commit adultery, that thereby thou mightst have an occasion to kill her, wherefore thou hast not kept her as thou oughtest, and thou hast not only suffered her to fall from her former manners unto vice, but thou hast likewise furthered her therein, and when occasion served, thou hast not failed to rid thyself from her to our great prejudice and dishonour: and thou hast further shown thy cruelty in calling to the father to behold the slaughter of his daughter, to the end that he might always carry this grief, that he had been both an eye witness of her misery, and that he was rejected or refused of his request by him whom he had succoured and redeemed from extreme misery, before he was thereunto entreated: and nevertheless being ashamed to be son in law unto the man that had so greatly bounden thee unto him, hast caused the body, & soul, and renown of his daughter to be lost; if then one alone ingratitude is punishable, what punishment shall be worthy for thy infinite unthankfulness joined with an extreme cruelty.   

Simons Answer.  
THe shame of thy daughter's adultery was more irksome unto me then any prison, wherefore I have likewise used that instrument which hath by the law been given unto me, not for any desire that I had to displease thee, to rid me from thy kindred, or to kill thy daughter, but to revenge her shameless immodesty, & to diminish my discredit. If thou hast released me from prison to the end that I should be base minded, thou hast lost thy money, because thou didst not advise me thereof before hand, for I should surely have told thee that as a noble heart could never be changed, so also could it never endure a reproach: alas the difference betwixt my father's disgrace and mine is, that his ended in coming dead out of prison, and mine but began in coming alive forth of the same. Milciades hath had the only honour in the Commonwealth to have been redeemed being dead by his son living, who afterwards being redeemed alive by another, to his great misfortune, was constrained to displease his redeemer, because he required an unlawful matter. I will never be unthankful when thou shalt request a good turn as honest as that which I have received of thee, but thou entreatest me to let the adulterer's escape; what could I do more if I had had my hands yet bound fast in prison, where at the least the dishonour should never have been imputed unto me. Wouldst thou then think to keep me so bound, as I should be thereby hindered from doing but my duty? Both of us in doing a good turn, have received a far greater; I in taking my father forth of prison dead, and thou in fetching me forth alive, for the same hath been unto us a great honour, and it would not be lawful for us to suffer adulters, without the loss of that honour which we have gotten: moreover, it behoveth him that hath been a true and a faithful son unto his father, to have the like children; my father was truly worthy to have such a son as I was, so also was I not unworthy to have the like, which I could never have had by thy daughter for whom thou hast bought me. Thou sayst I have brought thee forth of prison, I answer that I willingly put myself therein, and I will never believe that ever I got so great credit by being redeemed from thence by thee, as I have gained honour by entering therein for my father, of mine own accord: I dare say that thou didst never redeem me thence for mine own sake, but only to honour thee and thy daughter, double unworthy of so great honour, which was the cause also that she could not long continue in the same, wherein I desired not to imitate her: likewise I can neither be reproved, condemned, nor punished, having done nothing against the law. That is a good turn or a favour which tendeth only to the profit of him that receiveth it; but when he that doth it, looketh also for some commodity thereby, the favour loseth both his force and name: even so is thine, so that I am in no sort beholding unto thee, and so consequently thou canst not twit me with ingratitude. If Virginius slew his daughter because he would not see her forced to be unchaste, what oughtest thou to do unto thine, who had never any desire to be chaste at all.    

Declamation. 37.  
Of him who is forsaken of his father for relieving his ouncle, who also doth afterwards forsake him for succouring his father.  
TWo brethren are enemies; the one hath a son, the other hath no children, neverthe less by misfortune he becometh poor, his nephew taketh his father's goods secretly, and releiueth his ouncle therewith, the father perceiveth it, and forbiddeth him to do so any more, yet he ceasing not from relieving him, his father disheriteth him, and drives him out of his house, he goeth unto his poor ouncle, who adopteth him for his son, and at the last chansing by succession to be wealthy, he maketh him his heir. In the mean season the other brother falleth likewise into poverty, whereupon his son doth secretly sustain him with his ouncles or his adopted father's goods, who likewise forbiddeth him, and lastly driveth him away and disheriteth him for the same cause, whereunto the nephew opposeth him, saying:  
YOu cannot disherit me for the same reason which hath induced you to adopt me, for if it were well done to sustain you, it is yet a better deed to secure my father. Charity is commendable towards all men, wherefore then would you alone usurp it? the more miserable that a man is, the more requisite it is to be charitable unto him, how much more than unto him that is enforced to hope, and expect for relief at his enemy's house, by the means of such a one whom he hath driven from him. You say that heretofore he forsook me. I answer that the example of another man his vice, is no excuse but a great error: do you not know that every prosperity is uncertain? What is he that having seen Marius lying by the sea side upon the reeds, would ever have believed that he had been Consul of Rome, or that ever he should so be again? What? do you think that he which is most happy, need not to stand in doubt, and that he never may hope to be unfortunate? Yourself serves for an example of the contrary: consider then that he which beggeth relief of you is your brother, which hath craved of his brother, receiveth it by the hands of his son, which is he that taketh nought of yours, but of the inheritance which you have already given unto him; it is your nephew or adopted son which giveth, because he will not suffer his own father to perish with hunger, and by that means be adjudged unworthy of your adoption. I do not overthrow you, but I feed one only old man, and I am unto you in steed of many servants. All the world should perish if wrath were not by mercy appeased. I am the only son which is always tossed between two fathers, and still forsaken of the richest, but I take God to witness, that leaving you rich, I will departed unto the doors of another, showing unto every one him, for whom you disherit me; although I cannot be disherited, for having done that whereunto the law both bound me and also constrained me, what a matter were it if you should forbid me to weep when I see a man in misery? Our affections are not in our own power. Many laws and customs unwritten, are far more certain than those which are, of which the law of nature is most infallible.  

The Answer.  
ALl that which thou hast alleged is rather a boasting, than any acquittal or excuse. Touching my fear it is just, for I ought not to take such a one for mine heir which is unthankful, or rather mine enemy, wherefore I do forsake thee, for although thou bearest no malice unto him that hath done me wrong, yet do I hate him that hath done thee injury; so great was my affection towards thee: thou wert no more his son being not only forsaken of him, but also adopted by me, it was of me that he should have craved, not of thee. What art thou that wilt appoint a law unto thine ouncle, thy supposed father, and thy benefactor? we have not remitted our controversy unto thy judgement, for we have God, the laws, and the Magistrates for judges.    

Declamation. 38.  
Of the Elians who did cut off the hands of Phidias, after he had made the Image of jupiter Olympus.  
THe law amongst the Grecians was, that whosoever committed any sacrilege, should have his hands cut off: Whereupon it happened that the Elians required and entreated the Athenians to lend unto them Phidias their graver or carver of Images, a man most excellent in that art: whom they did lend unto the said Elians to make an image of jupiter Olympus, upon a condition that they should restore Phidias again unto them, or one hundred talents (which are threescore thousand crowns) for him: the image being made, the Elians do pay Phidias his wages, and afterwards affirming that he hath stolen gold forth of the temple, they cut off both his hands, it may be through malice, because he should never make any image so fair again, and so they send him so maimed home again unto Athens, saying that they are quit of their promise; but the Athenians demand the hundred talents, and say:  
WE can no more be served by Phidias in any sort, for he was only able to manifest his worthiness, so long as one might see his works: when he went unto you he had hands, whereby he made the Image of jupiter, it is you that have committed sacrilege in cutting off his holy hands, your god was the first that did behold the innocent blood of this workman, wherefore he shall be a witness against you all: alas poor Phidias some men are relieved by their cunning and skill in their miseries, but they have been the causers of thy misery. Do you think that we do account him to be received being without hands, whom you did require of us because of his hands? We having lent you such a one as could make gods, you do restore us such a one as is not able only to worship them; Are you not ashamed to offend jupiter with such sacrilege? It is the man indeed: but the workman is lost, you do not restore Phidias at all, but a continual grief, and a desire to have him, a grief to have him as he is, and a desire to have him as he was; his hands which were wont to make the gods, cannot now be held up to entreat men. Alack jupiter was so rare a piece of work, as the Elians were desirous it should be the last, to the end that they might gain that glory to have the last and chiefest work that ever Phidias made: we lent you the hands, we require the hands again. You make yourselves accusers, witnesses, and judges, whereby your falsehood is known, for it is not like to be true that he (who neither was covetous nor took pleasure in any thing but in his art, wherewith he gained more than he would) should be a thief: moreover, he which made the gods would have disdained to steal that which was hallowed unto them, wherefore we do call those gods which Phidias hath made, and those whom he might yet have made, against you; unless you satisfy the contract: for we will confess that we have received Phidias, if any do swear that we may be served by him, and you cannot deny but that you have deceived us, but assure you, that we will be revenged of you therefore.  

The Answer.  
WE had gold, ivory, and other holy things wherewith we determined that Phidias should have made us divers other Images, for the which cause we did well reward him for the first: we did request him of you, to the end that the gods might be served by him, and not to be rob by him; but seeing the contrary, we have judged that it is no less fit to revenge the wrongs done unto the gods, than it is to pay their services. We are not the cause that Phidias hath lost his hands, but it is his offence, and the law: require of them then your amends, or else complain of them and not of us, who have in all things done what we ought, or if you will vex us wrongfully for Phidias, we will call upon those gods whom he hath offended to help us, hoping by their aid to destroy those which would hurt us.    

Declamation. 39  
Of the son that defended his mother's cause, who being distraught, did wrongfully accuse herself to be guilty of sacrilodge.  
THe law saith, that whosoever doth voluntarily confess to have offended the law, without any other witness is worthy of punishment. Whereupon it chanced that a certain woman (having in one day lost her husband and two of her sons by some violent death) did fall into such despair therefore, that she hanged herself, but her third son happened to come before she was thoroughly strangled, who cut the rope asunder, and after he had gotten her to life again, he carried her unto the Temple, to the end that the respect of a place so holy, might keep her from doing herself any hurt, than he went forth to buy some sustenance to comfort her. In the mean season it happened that the officer came in there to search for church robbers, this woman being desperate, confessed that she had rob the Temple, whereupon the Magistrate according to the law would have her punished, but the son in the mean time happened to come, who gaiinsaied it thus.  
THat which is fallen out in our house, aught to protect my mother being condemned here; wherefore I knowing the matter, it is lawful for me to examine her myself of the offence in your presence, which she wrongfully taketh upon her: moreover, it ought to be considered, that the law saith, that those which confess a crime, shall be condemned. Now to confess, is to avouch the accusation for fear of the rack or other tortures, but to accuse herself, is not only a doubtful confession, but a sure, evident, and most manifest desperation: and that it is so, it must be known of her how, and when she committed this sacrilege? Or where she hath bestowed that which she stole? Truly she cannot prove her saying, but she thinketh that she committeth sacrilege in surviving after the violent death of her husband and children, and no other crime can be found in her; wherefore in her own opinion her saying is true, but by the law she is not punishable, seeing that if I had not been, she had been dead already by her own hands. It behoveth me to beseech the judges to be merciful to the offenders, but I had need not only to entreat, but also to compel my mother to take pity upon herself; what need you to doubt if a woman overcome with sorrow desireth death, when a number with over exceeding joy have died suddenly? Whereby it plainly appeareth, what weakness remaineth in the female sex, who therefore are not to be believed, nor received for witnesses. But tell me good mother? Why do you not bear your loss patiently, seeing that you see the gods themselves do lose that which is consecrated unto them in their Temple: Alas worthy judges, you do well know that the afflicted do more fear, honour, and reverence the gods, than those that are in prosperity. How then should this woman, more woeful than any other, presume to offend them with sacrilege? What need hath she of riches, that desireth to live no longer? Neither hath any children to leave them unto, but me, who would redeem my father and brethren from death with those which I have yet of mine own, me I say, who have and do love my mother's life better than her wealth. Alas no want of riches, but want of heirs to possess them is cause of her misery. You may say that she being angry against the gods for her loss, & desirous to be revenged, hath committed this sacrilege, there is nothing more unlikely, for her courage is abated with grief, and she attributeth her mishap unto herself, and not unto the gods, neither is it the least mischief that fortune doth unto us, when being our greatest enemy, she doth not only make us miserable, but also superstitious, in such sort than we bear the greatest reverence not unto the gods alone, but chiefly unto inconstant fortune; all this is proved by her, because she had rather hurt herself, then offend the gods, but if otherwise it were, far more easy had it been for her to have burned the Temple, them to have stolen the treasure locked up under so many keys, wherefore you ought to weigh all the circumstances together, and to be very careful that the law and the penalty thereof, which serveth for a terror unto the wicked and malefactors, be not inflicted upon the innocent. For he committeth a greater offence which punisheth the innocent, than he doth that pardoneth the malefactor.  

The judge answereth.  
THere was never any sacrilege that could be hidden, for every tongue, and especially the malefactors own tongue is ready to reveal it, as by this woman it appeareth that accuseth herself, provoked thereunto by the wrath of the gods, who for her offence do pursue her: wherefore it is reason that I appoint her to be punished, upon whom the gods disdain to show their miracle in consuming her with lightning, as if she were unworthy to die by the hands of any god, but they all together do pursue, and drive her to work her own confusion by a most shameful death, the which by her being perceived, she rather desired to die by her own hands, but they have not suffered her, to the end that the wrong done unto their Deity, might be publicly revenged, and that she might serve for an example unto all the world, so that thou wert sent by them to cut the cord asunder: but dost thou think that a church robber may die any other way then by justice? She hath done as much as in her lay, to conceal and not to confess her offence, yea, and that by the making of herself away, yet she could not, but in spite of her, she was constrained to be her own accuser, and to require her deserved punishment, which is no small miracle. Therefore if thou desirest to know her offence? It may only be answered that she hath committed sacrilege, the which she confesseth and avoucheth. If thou demandest why she did it, I say that if she committed it before the death of her children, it was to enrich them, if it were after their death, it was because she would be revenged of the gods. Where thou sayest that it had been more easy for her to have burned the Temple; in that thou showest thyself to be her son, but far more wicked than she, if it were not rage, and overgreat desire of revenge, that stayed her from making her choice, according to her wicked intention? Thou wouldst know where she hath bestowed that which she stole? I believe that she hath given it thee, and that thou wouldst save her life, to have some more by the like means. Nevertheless, we will punish her alone that confesseth the fact, until that thy sins do induce thee unto the like confession, or that thou be convinced by more apparent testimony, and in so doing we shall appease the gods, fulfil the laws, perform our duties, and clear our consciences, which commandeth us to root out the wicked forth of the Commonwealth by public punishment, because there is nothing that doth better maintain the world in equity, then rewarding the good, and punishing the bad.    

Declamation. 40.  
Of the wife that would not forsake her husband, although he went about to procure her death.  
IT happened that a man and his wife made an oath unto each other, that if one of them chanced to die, the other should not survive above three days after. Upon a certain time the man went upon a long journey, and being on his way, he sent a false message unto his wife which certified her that her husband was dead, she to keep her promise, threw herself down from the top of her house, nevertheless she died not with the fall, wherefore her father caused her hurts to be healed, and kept her until certain news came how her husband was not dead, but had sent her word of his death, only because he was desirous of his wives death. Whereupon her father would have compelled her to forsake her husband, she would not, he renounceth her for his child, and disheriteth her, for which she complaineth, saying:  
O Immortal God, which by thy providence governest all mankind, thou hast not permitted that this fact should be for our hurt or destruction, but only for a trial and proof of the love which I bear unto my husband, & yet my father would separate those whom death could not put asunder: neither is that which I have done to be thought strange, seeing that I had both cause to do it, & the example of divers women which have done the like, to allow it; for some have burned themselves with the dead bodies of their husbands, others have by their death redeemed their husband's life. I am therefore happy to be accounted one of the same number being yet living, and my husband safe and sound, who it may be would try whether I were worthy to be beloved of him, and now knowing it, he will love me better than ever he did. The love which is overgreat is cause of suspicions and jealousies, and therefore my husband was desirous not only to try whether I did not love some other, but also whether he was beloved of me, and I am very glad that with the danger of my life he hath found me such a one as he desired. What wrong shall I then both do unto myself, and unto him, if when I should reap the fruit of my loyalty and most constant love, I should departed from him, God forbidden I should so do. Moreover, I should never be well able to live without him, for it was partly the cause that I threw myself headlong down, because I would not languish without the hope and comfort of his presence, which I shall now possess with more pleasure than ever I did. To conclude, I cannot leave him, and if I could I would not, wherefore it is lost labour to speak any more thereof.  

The father's Answer.  
IT cannot be denied but that he which went about to procure my daughter's death is mine enemy, wherefore there is no reason that she which loveth mine enemy better than her own father, should be my heir: thou sayest I cannot, nor I ought not to forsake him. Why cannot, or may not she so do, that cannot only determine to die, but to be her own butcher? Having no sooner heard a feigned report of the death of thine enemy, thou soughtest thine own death in good earnest, if thou couldst endure his absence being gone on a long voyage, when thou hadst occasion to love him, why canst thou not now do the like having just cause to hate him? Thou art quite freed from all former oath or promise which thou hast made him, in showing the desire which thou hadst to accomplish that which he caused thee to swear, thereby not only to abuse thee, but to make thee die. Thou sayest that all is fallen out for the best, I know not how that should be, for as no bad act can be termed the author of any good, so ought we not to judge things by the event, but by the intent; hardly can he ever love thee, who as oft as he seethe thee, shall be either ashamed of his fact, or aggrieved that it took not such success as he wished: likewise the trial of love is not made by a danger so evident.    

Declamation. 41.  
Of the prodigal son who being forsaken of his father, redeemeth his brother whom his father had neglected.  
THe law was such, that when the children were thirty years of age, they might require their father to give them their portion. Whereupon it chanced that a man had two sons, the one of them was prodigal, and the other a good husband. He gave the prodigal son his portion (who demanded the same by virtue of the law) and did wholly disherit him from any of the rest of his lands or goods: the other, who was the good husband, made a voyage by sea, and fell into the hands of Pirates, he writ unto his father for his ransom, his father was deaf and could not hear on that side: Whereupon his prodigal brother redeemed him, who when he was returned home made his said brother his heir, in recompense of his release by him, wherewith the father being displeased, disinheriteth the thirsty son of his patrimony, who withstandeth him thus:  
ALl those which do know what I have done, do praise me for it, except you. How true an example of pity and brotherly love hath my brother showed, when sailing to seek me, he hath adventured great dangers, travailing over many lands, and seas, never giving over his enterprise, until he had brought me home again unto my father's house: wherefore if you did love me as both my obedience, and services deserve, and as nature doth bind you, you could not deny but to have received at his hands service most acceptable; And in recompense thereof to have acknowledged him for your heir, as I have done: for if for his prodigality you did disherit him, he hath showed himself both towards you and me not to be prodigal, but indeed very liberal. If you did disher it him because he was unprofitable, he cannot now be termed so, Seeing he could make so long a voyage, and when all fatherly love was in you forgotten, he yet could perform the duty both of a good son, and a better brother. You say that age hindered you from coming to redeem me at the beginning of my captivity, what man is so old that could not sail so small a way as I was from you? wherefore seeing you did it not, you ought to think well both of him and me, for he hath restored me unto you, and I would also make him yours. If you disherited him because he was wicked, he is no such man, seeing that he hath been so charitable towards his father, brother, and unto all those that love us. Lastly, as I cannot compel you to give me more than the law appointeth, so cannot you take that from me which you give me not, but it appertaineth unto me presently after your death, even as you received it from our grandfathers, seeing that I never offended you in any sort, unless you will account, the duty which I use towards your son and my brother for an offence.  

The father's Answer.  
I Am constrained against my will to disherit you both twain, seeing that you both take pleasure in displeasing me, wherefore I must imitate the physicians, who in extremest diseases use most dangerous remedies: and as the chirurgeons do oftentimes cut off the members to preserve the rest of the body, so must I separate my sons from me, who are agreed together to anger me: thou wouldst have me take him for my heir, who hath tried the law against his father, for his patrimony; what will not he attempt then to abridge my life, for the rest of my goods? But thou must consider that the law doth allow thee only for a minister or administrator of the patrimony, but not for lord thereof, and therefore thou canst not adopt thy brother. For the same law which condemned me to give him his part, restraineth thee to adopt him, seeing that he is above the age of thirty years: for children also and such as are in their minority ought to be adopted; moreover he is thy brother no more, seeing he hath let to be my son. But how canst thou adopt any one for thine heir, seeing thou art yet belonging to me? Or if thou art not mine, how canst thou inherit my goods? How wouldst thou have power over thy brother, seeing thou wilt not suffer me to have the like over thee? If he have deserved any good at thy hands, thou oughtest to entreat me for him, and not to use your own authority. Want of means and opportunity hath hindered me from redeeming thee, and thou wouldst against my will give that unto mine enemy, which in spite of his teeth he was enforced to leave me. O worthy judges, I beseech you see unto what extremity I am brought, seeing that one hath taken away part of my patrimony, and the other would that he should have the whole.    

Declamation. 42.  
Of the husband who gave two children unto his wife without telling her which of them was her own.  
A Certain woman died in childbirth of a son, whom the father sent to nurse into the country, and within a few days after he married a young wench which he had already got with child, she about a month after did also bear him a son: whom he in like sort did send abroad to be nursed, handling the matter so well, that not any besides himself did know which was the first or the last child. About three years after he made the children to be brought home to his house, and would not tell his wife which of them was hers. Moreover, they were both of them so like the father, and so little like the mothers, that she could not that way discern them, whereupon she accused her husband of bad usage, who denied it thus, saying:  
WHerefore dost thou weep for thy child, seeing thou art sure to kiss him and see him every day, if thou wilt, I would long since have told thee which of them is thine, if I had not known that thou art as desirous to show thyself a stepdame to the one, as a mother to the other. Consider only that the one is thy son, and the other is his brother, and thy husband's son; love them then for their own sakes, or else neither love nor hate them: but I perceive that whilst thou desirest to be a mother to the one, thou art a stepdame to them both. If thou dost constrain me to tell thee, never imagine that I will tell thee the troth, wherefore I will not deceive thee as a mother, but as a stepdame. Nature herself determined that they should be like each other, to the end that they should be both thy children. Thou mightest very well know which of them is thine, if the desire which thou hast to hate the one did not hinder thee, wherefore behold the one or the other with the eye of a mother in law, and it may be the same will be thine own. Long since should I have told thee the troth, if thou hadst been less importunate to inquire it. I will that thou alone shouldst enjoy this benefit, either to have one son in law without being a mother in law, or else to have two children without having suffered for the birth of more than one of them. When they are of more age, mark which of them will be more obedient unto thee, and the same shall be thy son, or at the least shall deserve that thou shouldest so account him: and give over henceforth to bewail thy son, seeing thou art not only certain that thou hast him, but also that thou canst not lose him, unless they do both die.  

The wives answer.  
YOu do me great wrong, for how can my son love, honour, and obey me aright, if he be not sure that I am his mother, so that desiring to make me a mother of two, you make both the one & the other to be my sons in law. You do well know both your children, & have the joy thereof, but you deprive me of mine, or rather, make me partaker of nothing but grief and sorrow: and being willing to give a mother to your own, you deprive me of mine. You say well that I am a stepdame to them both, but you are the cause thereof, and are worse than a stepfather unto mine, seeing that you take his mother from him, or at the least will not suffer him to know her.    

Declamation. 43.  
Of him who drunk poison with his wife, wherewith she died, and he made claim unto her heritage by her Testament.  
WHen Octavius, Marc Anthony, and Lepidas did part the Roman Empire between them, many of the Nobles were slain, & others fled and were banished, or else fined in a great sum of money paiable unto those which were appointed to kill them. Amongst whom there was a Roman exile who was followed by his wife that was very rich, whose chance was that upon a certain time she found her husband in a secret place, holding a cup in his hand, she asked him what he had in the cup, he answered that it was poison, and that he would poison himself because he desired to live no longer in this misery; the wife answered that she would not live without him, and therefore prayed him that she might drink some part with him: whereunto he agreed, and having drunken part, he gave her the rest, the which she did drink up, and died suddenly after. The husband died not: but within a short while after by the means of his friends he was called to Rome again, where being arrived, he showed a very plain Will of his wives, wherein she left him heir of all her lands and goods; her kinsfolk who did very well know how she came by her death, accused him for poisoning his wife, complaining and saying in this sort.  
HE hide himself with poison, because he would be sought and found by his wife, he feigned that he would drink it to make her drink thereof, he said he would die, because she should desire to live no longer, He did drink in such sort of the poison that he is yet living, and his wife dead: I would feign know then what man did ever murder his wife more manifestly? Or what poison is that which could not once kill so great an heir, who affirming that he would die, after he had caused his wife to die, did himself escape: it is a great matter that all the rest of the fugitives are become poor by the late edict, and this man is made rich thereby, the others have lost their own goods, and he would usurp the goods of another, as a reward for procuring the death of her, that loved him more than herself, and so much did he know that she had witnessed in his favour: she followed him when he was pursued by his enemy's sword, and under a feigned colour of love he hath murdered her with poison. A goodly exchange, she took his poison, and he her Testament, so soon as she had drunken she died: but is there any doubt to be made of the force of the venom? Seeing it was compounded and made by the heir, who might very well drink part of the uppermost, as being less violent, either having an Antidote very ready, or else having taken it before hand, thereby inciting his poor wife by deceit to drink the bottom, where all the poison did lie, so as it might very well be said, that he had the drink, and she the venom, which long before he had prepared to hurt her alone. He did very well know that she would not live without him, seeing that she was desirous to thrust herself into most great dangers for his sake. If they are punished which kill their enemies in open fight, what punishment is he worthy to have, which hath treacherously murdered his wife that loved him above all things; as he ought to have loved her.  

The Answer.  
MY wife did love me in time of peace, she followed me to the wars, and in exile in my greatest extremity she never left me, saying that it was a righteous deed not to forsake him that was innocent: I had a just occasion and was desirous to die, because I would not be put to death by the hands of a hangman, or live continually in fear of mine enemies; They which are deceitful do hide the truth, but I told her plainly, that it was poison which I would drink, and as I never refused her any ●●ing, so also had I not the heart to refuse her this last request, and the rather, because I was sorry to leave her in misery, as well for the grief which I knew she would take for me, as also, for the anguish and trouble she should suffer to live at the discretion of such kindred as you are, who would never have cavilled for her death, if the Will had been made in your favour; and if she had died intestate, you would have quarreled amongst yourselves for her inheritance. And where you say that I drank the first draft, it is true; because I did not only always use to drink before her, but also because I hoped by this means dying first, to shun the grief I should sustain to see her die before me. Moreover, the poison was not of such quality as you say, no worse in the bottom than it was above, for that which could not infect all the drink would be less able to infect or kill any body: likewise I am sure that I did drink a sound draft, more than the half. But I do now know to my great grief that my wife was more tender than I, wherefore she is dead with that poison, which was not of force enough to kill a man more strong. Also you need not demand (that seeing I was desirous to die) why I would not make an end of myself when I saw my wife dead, for touching this point, they cannot judge thereof, which have not been so near their death as I was, for they know not how horrible it is in such an extremity, and especially every violent death, but more chiefly that which is slow, and draweth on by leisure: wherefore before you can judge rightly thereof, you ought either to have tried this extreme point, or at the least, to be as near your death as I, who shall never be sound again, nor of any long life. Wherefore it is not for covetousness that I require my wives inheritance, but thereby to have means as well to eternize her good renown, as also because I would not suffer her last Will to be abused.    

Declamation. 44.  
Of him who having given over and forsaken two of his children, would not leave the one of them with him that had fostered them up.  
IT must here be considered, that in times passed amongst the Grecians it was lawful for such as would, either to slay their children, or to forsake them and leave them at all adventures; and the law was such, that if any did find them and bring them up, it was at the father's discretion to redemand and take again his child, paying for his nursing. Whereupon it happened that a father through poverty was enforced to leave two of his children, being twins, to the mercy of the world, which children another man chanced to find, and caused them to be nursed, thinking to keep them as his own, for he had none. It likewise chanced that within a certain time after, the father who had forsaken them became rich; so that he desired to have his children again, and causing them to be sought out, he which had fostered them, came unto him, saying that if he would let him have one of them, he would give him the other, and he should choose which of them both he would have, the father agreed thereunto, but seeing the children he took them both again. The foster father summoned the father to the law for one of them, the father defended himself saying:  
HOw wouldst thou have me make partition of my children with thee, seeing that I made a refusal thereof, especially to the mother which hath conceived and born them? I have begotten them both, I have desired them both I took pain for them both, they were both borne together, they were both left, or lost together, because I knew that being twins the one could not live without the other, thou foundest them together, thou hast fostered them up together, and I have found them together again, wherefore then in the restoring should they be sundered; especially seeing fortune which once separated them from their Parents, would never sunder them one from another, how could I choose the one, and leave the other, seeing that because I could not choose, I did leave them both? if the martial law, which is the cruelest, doth not suffer that two brethren being taken in the war should be sundered, how doth the Civil law allow it in these here, who are not only brethren, but may well be termed the half of one another, each of them loseth his grace and worth if he be absent from the other. I should do a wrong in desiring thy children, but not in retaining mine: why wouldst thou have acquaintance to sunder that, which abandoning to the world could not separate? I would give all for my child except my child only, I made the bargain weeping and trembling as much as when I departed from them, for I was constrained by force and necessity, because I could not find the one without promising the other. It is enough of the first wrong that I did unto my children, in expulsing and leaving them through necessity, without adding thereunto a second injury, which would be in separating them willingly, seeing the law, my duty, and the equity of the judges may be my warrantise; for every agreement made by fear or force is nothing worth, but only those which are willingly made, or according to the laws.  

The Answer.  
IF thou wilt not separate them, reason commandeth thee to leave me both twain, seeing thou hadst not only the heart to leave them at all adventures, but further also thou hast been accustomed to live without them, but I leaving the one shall never be but in perpetual grief and anguish for the other, seeing I have been accustomed to have them both, dost thou think that he useth force or constraint that maketh thee a father when thou never hopedst to be one, I have freed them from the danger to be devoured of brute beasts, or to die with hunger, I have nursed and fostered them, I do restore one unto thee, yea and give thee thy choice, wherefore no man is a loser but I, although the judges should be never so righteous and favourable to my most just demand.    

Declamation. 45.  
Of him which struck his father by the compulsion of a Tyrant, whom he afterwards did slay, and requireth a reward therefore.  
THe law appointed, that whosoever did strike his father, should have his hands cut off. Whereupon it chanced that the King being a Tyrant, caused a man and his two sons to be sent for unto his palace, and having brought them up unto the top of a high tower, he commanded the sons upon pain to be thrown headlong down, to strike their father, and he would defend them from the punishment which by the law was appointed; one of them because he would not strike his father, threw himself down, the other did give his father a blow with his fist, whereupon the Tyrant who did greatly fancy, and daily sought such men as were wicked, entertained him into his serui●e, and loved him so dearly as he wholly put his trust in him: but as Treason doth oftentimes spring of too much trust, so this man took an occasion to slay the Tyrant, as well to revenge his brother's death, and the injury done unto his father and him, as also to win honour, and gain the reward promised secretly by the Citizens to him that should kill the Tyrant: who having slain him, demanded the said reward; but the ingrateful people accused him for striking his father, for the which they would have his hands chopped of. Whereunto the poor father would in no sort consent, but gainsaied him thus:  
I Should be more happy if I did rather defend many malefactors, than one only innocent: will you cut off those hands which hath slain the Tyrant, & restored you your liberty? what do you mean, why did you not cut off the Tyrant's hands, that constrained my son to transgress our laws, so that it was as necessary for him to strike his father, as it was lawful for others to rob Temples, and to ravish the Virgins and wives. O how much do we owe unto those hands, by the which such cruelty is brought unto an end, the tyrant did trust that by the same hands he might shame some, and slay others; but they have deprived him of the means to perform either the one or the other: but how much more am I indebted unto this my son, then unto the other that broke his own neck? For he did not that to spare his father, but himself, because he cared not though I had died with sorrow, which no doubt I should have done, if this here had done as much, and in smiting me hath he not only saved my life so much, as he hath afterwards likewise preserved the Commonwealth. Alas my poor children what great extremity have you both endured, by the cruelty of a Tyrant? The one hath broken his neck, and the other to his most great grief too was enforced to beat his father: but far greater praises doth he deserve that hath slain the Tyrant, than the other doth which did murder himself. What offence hath this my son and your protector committed? Save only that in lifting up his fist, and gently letting it fall again, he feigned to strike his father, who in like sort seemed as though he were aggrieved therewith, but both the one and the other did it to escape a worse mischief, and to perform a greater good: necessity in all doth greatly excuse human weakness, and therefore the Saguntines were not only excused, but exalted for slaying their fathers; which is more than a light stroke. His brother in leaving me at the Tyrant's mercy did worse than he, who without hurting me, hath saved me. You say that he had no respect unto the law, I know well that the law is strict, but the interpretation is large: if one being mad chance to strike another, he is not punished: Neither yet is the little child which striketh his father condemned: For the mad man hath more need of pity then punishment, and is rather to be helped then hurt; and the child hath neither strength nor understanding to offend: these two points in such an extremity are found in my son, for in striking me, he endured a greater pain than I; if those women who were deflowered by the Tyrant, are not esteemed unchaste, Nor those Priests, which through force or fear have brought the treasures of the Temple unto the tyrant, are not deemed culpable, Wherefore then should my son be blamed who feigned to strike his father? Thereby not only to save his life, but to kill the Tyrant, revenge the ravished women, and to restore both the treasure unto the Temples, and also to purchase freedom unto all; I did command him to strike me, wherefore he should have sinned more in disobeying me, then in obeying the Tyrant therein; so that he hath not offended me, but spared me. Moreover, the revenge or punishment of a sons offence against the father, lieth in the will and discretion of the father: if any other had strooken me, and I had no desire to complain, no man could compel me thereunto, or pursue him for me, what do you mean then by this? Seeing that he which hath given the blow, hath endured the greatest grief and hurt thereby, and that he which received the same, commanded the other to give it him.  

The Answer.  
THe more you defend your son's cause, the more you make him culpable, for you showing yourself loving and pitiful unto him, do likewise show, that he ought rather to have died a thousand times, then to have strooken so good and loving a father: what doth he then deserve that hath smitten such a one to please a Tyrant, Whose servant he afterwards became? You say he did it to profit the Commonwealth, and we doubt it, for we cannot begin to do good, by performing a mischief; and he hath offended the Commonwealth more by his wicked example, than can well be expressed: for never was it found before, that any was so bold to strike his father. If he would not prevent his brother, yet should he at the least have followed him? Who choosed to die rather than to see his father strooken, so should they both have been an example of pity, where now one of them loseth part of his glory by being brother unto a man so wicked, for the one cannot be mentioned without the other. You say that you pardon the wrong which he hath done you? But the law pardoneth him not for transgressing it. You say I would needs be strooken? but we say that his brother would not that you should. It seemeth by your speech, that even as the Tyrant judged him a fit man to commit a villainous act, so you likewise had the same opinion, and seeing that you could not escape, you feigned that you were willing to be strooken, for fear of being slain altogether: lastly, he hath smitten his father, knowing that it was against his brother's will, and against the decree of the law, so that he being guilty, is likewise worthy of punishment.    

Declamation 46.  
Of the bondman who having saved his Master, his son, and goods, together with his daughter's honour, pretendeth to marry her.  
A Tyrant standing in doubt that his Citizens would attempt some conspiracy against him, took the bondmen of all the city into his favour, giving them freedom, and inciting them to murder their masters, they fearing the effect thereof, did suddenly fly forth of the city, leaving their houses, wives, and children in danger at the mercy of the Tyrant, who to take away all means and hope from the Citizens; and from the slaves all possibility ever to be reconciled unto their masters, suffered and commanded the said slaves to ravish their wives & daughters: Shortly after the Tyrant died suddenly by mischance, whereupon the Citizens returned by force into the city, and caused all the slaves to be executed or hanged, except one, who having feigned that he had ravished his master's daughter, did faithfully preserve and keep her with all his goods, and restored her a virgin unto his Master, moreover, he did forewarn the Citizens of the dangers which would follow, wherewith his Master received such contentment, that he gave him his daughter in marriage. But the said Citizen had a son, who opposed himself thereunto, accusing his father to be void of understanding, and said thus:  
Our grief would be the less, if the Tyrant and not the father had made such marriages. Can any man say that he hath not lost his wits, which seeketh rather to imitate the Tyrant his enemy, than his bondman? Who hath at the least shown more love unto him, than he doth either to son or daughter, seeing that he maketh himself like unto the Tyrant. If the bondman had lain with my sister, I had caused him to be hanged as well as the rest, and now you yourself would have him to lie with her: you say that it is by marriage, I deny that, for marriage is meant betwixt those which are worthy one of another, either in deed, or opinion: Then seeing none besides you, who are mad, of that opinion that a slave may be worthy to be your son in law, and my brother in law, it can be no marriage: and were it otherwise, I say that this marriage bringeth more shame, then if she were ravished or abused by a Noble man, for then at the least the child which should so be borne, should be more worthy and be better respected then the child of a bondman. Who would ever have thought that the Lord or Master would have suffered his slave further than the Tyrant would his friend? It may therefore very well be said that whosoever maketh such marriages, is either a fool or a Tyrant, of whom the one deserveth death, and the other to lose all authority. O what a fair son in law hath he chosen, who hath nothing of any worth in him, but that he hath kept himself from being hanged with the rest of his fellows? Alas my sister shall then being under the power of her father, lose her virginity, which was so carefully preserved when she was under the power of the Tyrant, and he shall be thought worthy of such a marriage, which was not deemed worthy of the gibbet. far more happy are those which were deflowered, for they nevertheless do now take such other husbands as are worthy of them. It is a goodly matter when the father maketh such a match for his own daughter as the Tyrant did for those of his enemies. Ah unfortunate sister, who being under the tyrant's power didst desire thy father, and under thy father's power, thou desirest the Tyrant, who would yet defend thee from this injury. Is this a small reward for a bondman to see all his fellows on the gallows, yet himself to be free from the like? you say that he hath not ravished his mistress, say likewise that he hath not slain his master, nor used poison nor sorcery: do you say that he doth a good act that keepeth himself from crime for fear of punishment? Our misery is as great now as the shame which the other maids and wives have suffered during the Tyranny, for this is done during our freedom: the others shame was in the absence of their Parents, but this is in the presence of hers; the others shame was called deflowering, but this here cannot be called constraint but a voluntary consent. It was not virtue that kept him from doing as much as the others, but the fear to be hanged with the others, he knew very well that God would not suffer so cruel a tyranny to endure, and when the Citizens returned, the slaves should be punished: But why will you marry your daughter to one so vild and base, who having her in his power, both esteemed, and knew himself to be unworthy of her? Wherein only he deserveth some recompense, which may be done in giving him freedom and means to live, but you must not give him her, for whose sake chief you would reward him.  

The Answer.  
I Do now know very well that thou art ignorant how true nobility proceedeth from virtue, or else you would not judge this man to be ignoble, who is truly virtuous; seeing neither the greedy desire of wealth was able to win him, nor the provoking of lust could entice him, nor yet the fear of punishment and cruel death might once terrify him to serve from his duty. Who doth not know, if the tyrant should have had but the least inkling of his fidelity towards me, that he alone should have suffered the same death which hath been inflicted upon all the rest. Wherefore I cannot bestow too much upon him, who hath not spared his own life for my honour alone, but for the honour of all our lineage, from the which he ought not to be excluded. But where do you find that marriage consisteth in the equality of persons, do you not know that M. Cato married a poor Plebeians daughter; as also a number of other like examples might be rehearsed. And if you stand upon worthiness, you shall find that your sister deserveth to have but an honest man, and such a one you cannot deny him to be, unless you speak untruely: Nature hath not made any bond or free, but it is fortune that imposeth such names both on the one and the other, wherefore Plato hath not said in vain, that Kings are born of bondmen, and bondmen of Kings. Finally, if my daughter will not take him for her husband, she will as well cause me to suspect that she is aggrieved or displeased with him in that he took not his pleasure with her so soon as he might, as I do already believe, that you would have her to die without children, because you might be the sole heir of all my living.    

Declamation. 47.  
Of him that would not deliver his brother, that had accused him falsely to have slain his father.  
IT was an ancient law, that whosoever did bear false witness being convinced thereof, he should remain his bondman against whom he was a witness. Whereupon it chanced that a certain man which had two sons, carried one of them abroad into the country with him, within a small time after the son came home again alone, the other son accused his brother that he had slain his father, and added such apparent likelihood unto his sayings, that the other being upon the rack, confessed the offence which he had not committed; so that he is condemned to a cruel death: but a certain solemn feast drawing near at hand, some of his friends found the means to reprieve him until the said feast should be ended: in the mean time the father returned home to his house safe and sound, whereupon he which was condemned, accused his brother of false witness, and having convinced him thereof, put him in prison: but the father entreated his son to deliver his brother, the which the other refused to doc, so that his father threatened to disherit him saying:  
WHat canst thou say save only thy brother hath produced or born false witness against thee? I say that he thought he had said the truth, for the love which he did bear unto me, and the fear that he had of my death did make him beside himself: but if thou desirest to prove him more faulty, than I say be thou merciful, and every one will say, that he did much amiss to offend so kind a brother. Art thou abashed that thou foundest thy brother so cruel against thee, seeing that he believed or thought that thou hadst slain thy father and his? Why wilt not thou suffer me to have two children? wilt thou torment thy brother to procure my death thereby? If it be so, he hath not altogether accused thee wrongfully. Alas one of my sons was in prison because I did not return, and the other is in prison because I am returned. If thou dost not set him at liberty, I will live no longer: whereby it shall be known that thou wantedst not the will, but the means or occasion to murder me, and it will be said that thy brother's meaning was not so bad against thee, as it was good towards me, seeing that he inwardly perceived thine iniquity, and in forsaking me or returning without me, thou thyself wert the cause that he accused thee. Dost thou not perceive that I am fastened even amidst the self same chains wherewith my son is fettered, and that the same bond which bindeth his hands, doth burden my heart? Churlish and ungracious as thou art, wherefore dost thou keep thy brother in prison and thy father in thraldom, who by his return hath saved thy life? The which (if otherwise he should have done) thou couldst (next unto God) never hold of any other then of him.  

The Answer.  
WHerefore should I pardon him, who not only sought my death, but endeavoured to procure my perpetual defamation; It was to my great danger that I was imprisoned, condemned, & delivered, wherefore no man but myself can rightly judge of my passion; He falsely alleged that I had slain my father, thereby to cause me to die forwith, me I say who was ever a most kind brother unto him; who knoweth not that the greater the love is, the more vehement is the hate when it is once justly conceived. The hangman being more pitiful than he, was the first that brought me news of my father's return. If I had ever been wickedly minded, I should not have had so just a cause to be angry? Is it to be wondered at, if I detain him prisoner that sought to bring me to a shameful end, it may be to murder you afterwards secretly? It is not only a hate, but a fear which I have, lest he should complot some other Treason against me, that hindereth me from delivering him. What is he that did not very plainly perceive, that the only prolonging of my punishment procured his pain, although the daily expecting thereof did more displease me, than the present suffering the same could have daunted me, seeing the hangman always before me, who was himself affrighted at those torments which were prepared for me. If my father do love me as well as he doth my brother, I would know why he died not at his return for sorrow, seeing me at the gibbet? It is he then for whose sake he would disherit me, that by one only treason did think to murder both his father and his brother, that he might as well be sole heir, as also possess the whole inheritance the sooner.    

Declamation. 48.  
Of a father that would renounce his son for marrying a maid that had freed him from her father's prison.  
A Certain man being taken by Pirates or rovers on the sea, writ unto his father for his ransom, the father excused himself, so as the other remaining without hope of releasement, is relieved by his daughter who was captain of the Pirates: and she was not only favourable unto him during his imprisonment, but also promised to set him at liberty, and to fly away with him, if he would swear to marry her, either when he came home, or by the way: He did swear, and married her solemnly before he came where his father remained; who was discontented therewithal, and would have had him to forsake her for to marry with a rich inheritrix, but he would not: whereupon his father would disherit him, saying:  
O What a great joy mayst thou hope to have of thy wife, or what comfort can I expect of my daughter in law? Who for the love of a stranger, cared not to hate her own father: Yea, and was not ashamed to disclose her disordinate lust unto one whom she never knew before. Thou wilt say that first of all she had compassion of thy misery, and from that compassion did love spring; but I answer that it was neither compassion nor love towards thee, but rather a desire to satisfy her own lust and pleasures, that provoked her to deliver thee: wherefore thou art not in any sort bound unto her having partly satisfied her desire, for it should be impossible for thee wholly to satisfy the same; seeing the dry earth, the grave, and a woman's womb, are three insatiable things.  

The Answer.  
I Should greatly err to put away, or leave her, who hath not forsaken me in such a place, where not only my father himself feared to come, but also where he either durst not, or would not once secure or relieve me. If you had seen my body overladen with chains and bonds, my hollow cheeks, my deep sunken eyes, as also my black and unprofitable hands clogged with gives, you would truly have said that compassion only moved her to deliver me, the which she could not do without running away with me; and because I would not be unthankful for so high a favour, what better reward could I bestow upon her then myself, since I was the chiefest cause that she hath nothing wherewithal to marry her: being then my wife, she could do no less than love me, but if it had been so that she had loved a captive, a slave, or at the least one far more miserable, Yet ought she not to be therefore condemned. The Romans in times past did worthily take a bondman to be their King. Misery or poverty neither hindereth nor corrupteth virtue, but maketh it more excellent, and is oftentimes the cause whereby a man may show himself more worthy: but what think you of a number of Romans, who being violently taken from the plough, have nevertheless greatly enriched and increased the Commonwealth by their poverty? why then should I make her miserable, that hath freed me from misery? If I should be so ill disposed, yet ought you both to reprove me and chastise me for it: suffer me then to perform my duty, seeing you are not willing either towards her or me to perform yours. And in that she loved me better than her father, I am so much the more bounden unto her.    

Declamation. 49.  
Of one that was likely to be defrauded of the honour due to him for his victory: because he had taken the arms belonging to a dead man.  
A Certain valiant conqueror chanced to die, who having made his Testament, he ordained that all his arms should be hanged up for a Trophy about his sepulchre, and that it should not be lawful for any man to take aught thereof away. It chanced that another man (who tofore time had been no less famous for his victories in the Commonwealth than the other) lost his arms in the wars, and being charged by the enemies, he fled in the city even unto the sepulchre aforesaid, from whence he took the dead man's arms, wherewith he returned unto the fight, and there behaved himself so valiantly, that he came home again a conqueror. But like as virtue is evermore persecuted by envy, so he (having placed the arms again from whence he had taken them, and received the triumph of his victory) is accused of sacrilege, and for robbing the sepulchre of another man by taking away his arms; but he excused himself of the crime saying:  
THese arms stood more in need of my aid, than I of their assistance, for the victory which I have obtained hath kept the enemies from taking the city, and all that therein is, and although it were otherwise, yet could not that be termed violence which one taketh without resistance to a good intent, and with a will to restore it again. Many speak of arms which know not what they mean, for these here being in my hands at the combat were arms, but so long as they shall remain in the temple, or about the sepulchre, they can be termed no other than spoils, or an unprofitable Trophy, so that it may well be said, that the arms stood in need of my strength. I lent myself unto them, whereby also the Commonwealth hath received great benefit, and the dead man and his arms have gained more thereby than they lost, for the dead shall be the more eternised, and his arms the more famous. Necessity is not only without law, but she herself is the law of time. Wherefore oftentimes she causeth the richest merchandise to be thrown into the sea to unburden the ship: or to break down, and overthrow some houses to save others from fire: so likewise is one or more members cut off to save the rest of the body: how much more lawful is it then in a necessity to do a good act, as I have done three, for I have overcome the enemy, assured the Commonwealth, and increased the glory of these arms, in making them double victorious. Is it not apparently known that many do mortgage, and sell all the jewels and relicques of the church, to conserve the Commonwealth? Wherein then have I offended, employing for the same a thing of so small a value, which served but for an unprofitable show?  

The Answer.  
THy fault is very manifest having showed thyself badly furnished for the combat, but ready enough for the flight, and in the one and the other very cowardly; as also no less impudent in defending thy cause, then impious in committing so vild a crime: to prove this my saying true, thou hast either lost, or forsaken thine arms, the which any man of worth doth far prefer before his life. Thou couldst not then (by thine own saying) recover that dishonour of thy loss, without taking away a dead man's arms, which were hallowed and consecrated to the church; and thou hast no other excuse for thy theft or rapine, but that thou didst lose thine: seeing than that both the one and the other act is most execrable, whether of the twain will best serve thee for an excuse? Thou sayst, I have set the arms in their place again; thou dost thereby confess that it was not lawful to take them thence. It seemeth thou wouldst infer, that thou deservest very much in that thou didst not leave them, as thou didst thine own, and it appeareth by thy speech, that having restored them again, the law hath in no sort been offended; I answer, that in performing this offence, thou hast done like unto him that should first wound a man, and afterwards heal him again; or like unto him that restoreth any stolen goods, not only when he hath no more need thereof, but after that he hath enriched himself by the means thereof. It might have been sufficient for thee, that thou hadst saved thine own life and revenged the death of thy followers by these arms, without usurping the triumph and glory of the good luck which they did yet contain by the virtue of the dead man: wherefore thou art only beholding unto them, else mightest thou as well have been conqueror with thine own arms, without usurping or taking away these which thou knewest to be victorious. There is no reason then to pardon the fault which thou thyself hast committed, for any the good success we have received by another's man's weapons; and although the same should so be according to thine own desire, yet must we do justice, and even as thou hast obtained the honour and triumph of a conqueror, so must thou endure the punishment due for crime.    

Declamation. 50.  
Of an adulterer, who having slain a Tyrant, claimeth the reward and honour that was promised, the which was refused to be given unto him.  
A Certain Tyrant having by force obtained the sole government of a Commonwealth, the Citizens thereof did secretly ordain amongst them, that whosoever could slay the said Tyrant, he should have ten thousand crowns in recompense, and his statue or image should be set up in the Temple, and be called the only patron and protector of his country. Whereupon it happened that a young man did so well court the Tyrant's wife, that he enjoyed her at his pleasure, and oftentimes he went unto her by night disguised, and sometimes in the habit of a woman. In the end he was suddenly surprised by the Tyrant, who would have slain him, but the young man being the stronger, or rather being aided by the wife, took the tyrant's sword from him, and slew him. Wherefore he demanded of the Commonwealth the recompense promised unto him which should slay the Tyrant; but the Citizens gainsaied his demand in this sort:  
IF the Tyrant himself had not armed thee, thou hadst never slain him, but what shall I say, Seeing that one Tyrant murdered another at all adventures? For adultery is no less offence than tyranny: but of whom requirest thou a reward for thy not suffering him to slay thee, Seeing that even those which are most wicked, do eschew death as much as they may? the tyrant should have deserved as much if he had slain thee, as thou dost in killing him, so that can be said to be nothing else but an equal combat, the issue whereof hath been happy for thee: neither did the honester, nor the innocenter man get the victory, but rather the stronger, or the vilder person. Seeing it was manifest that the Tyrant came to murder thee who wert as wicked as himself, and that he brought the means to kill himself, why comest thou alone to demand the reward? The which if any were done, aught to be divided in three parts, that is to say, one part to the Tyrant for bringing thee a sword, another part to his wife for helping thee to take it from him, and the last and least part for thyself: Moreover, thou didst not enter armed as those do which would kill, but thou camest delicatlie appareled, and perfumed into the chamber, not without good espial before hand of the Tyrant's absence. A valiant man no doubt, who desired not to find the Tyrant, but his wife, who was not pricked with hate, but passioned with love. They which go purposely to kill any one do arm themselves with courage and courtelax, and do go thither where they think to find those they mean to kill. Every noble act is begun with an intent, and performed by occasion: for as oftentimes the virtuous enterprises are rewarded, although the success do fall out sinisterly, so are wicked enterprises not left unpunished, although they succeed not according to the meaning of the malefactor; and as virtue without effect loseth not her glory, even so likewise is that never allowed for virtue, or worthy of reputation, which happeneth by fortune, or chance. The wisdom of our Senate, would never have appointed so great a reward for him that should slay the Tyrant, if they had thought the same should have been performed by so wicked a person, not willingly, but by constraint, not by virtue, but by vice. Never was there heard of such a combat, for he which was counted the vildest caitiff, did fight for the best & honestest cause; the Tyrant fought to revenge his own wrong, and his wives reputation, and thou to maintain thy lewd act and foul adultery: so that it may truly be said, that thou didst murder a woman's husband, and fortune hath slain the Tyrant, by whose death the Commonwealth hath gained her freedom, although he was not slain for the same intention. It is a goodly matter to see thee come polluted with the kisses of an adulterous minion, to demand the recompense belonging unto a virtuous man; this honour should be due unto such a one as had freely killed the Tyrant, being thereunto provoked by virtue; but not unto thee, who didst it by chance or constraint, thereby to defend thine own life: wherefore the same life which thou hast saved by this deed, is a recompense great enough for thy desert; or if thou wilt deny this, consider that first we must punish the vice, and afterwards reward the virtue: thou canst not deny but that thou didst first commit adultery before thou sluest the tyrant, first then suffer punishment for thy fault, and then we will afterwards consult whether thou deservest that reward which thou demandest. But above all things remember this, that no good act is to be attempted by mischief, neither must virtue be attained unto by vice.  

The Answer.  
YOu say that I went not of purpose to kill the Tyrant, seeing that I did go unarmed: But I affirm that I did, which is plainly approved by his death. In that I was unarmed, it doth not any whit diminish my virtue, but rather augment my danger, the which not to esteem, nor fear, can be no other than virtue. You must not examine what I carried into the Castle, But what I took away thence; Likewise never ask wherefore I went thither, but mark what I have done there: True it is that the sword was none of mine, but the hands were mine, the courage, counsel, danger, pains, and lastly the act was mine. Do you call me an adulterer, who am the only cause that your wives need not stand in fear to be any more ravished? I did warily consider (seeing the strong fortification of the castle) what means there might be to kill the Tyrant, but having tried the soldiers, the servants, and the maids, I could find no fit occasion, then by the means of his wife, who long before had been liberal enough of her honour unto others: furthermore, it can be no more termed adultery to cuckold a Tyrant, than it is reputed murder to kill a Tyrant; but it is rather worthy of reward. Moreover, it was very dangerous to carry a sword secretly into the castle, but very easy to find one there, for my purpose was that if I could meet with the Tyrant, every thing should serve me for a sword; likewise I was sure that he never went without a sword, and that when two strive for one sword, it remaineth unto him that is the strongest or worthiest. Also I was not ignorant how God doth always resist such wicked persons as he was, and doth favour such lawful enterprises as mine: and you cannot say that I went not to seek the Tyrant, seeing I stayed of purpose for him even in his bed chamber, whether I was sure that he used to come all alone. Take not then that from me by your malice, which is due unto me by my virtue and manhood.    

Declamation. 51.  
Of the father that adopted for his heir, the son of his forsaken son.  
THere was a man which had two sons, the one whereof he did utterly denounce and forsake, in that he had married with a woman of loose life, by her had a son, and afterwards fell sick: Whereupon he sent to entreat his father to come at the least to visit him once before he died, who being come unto him, his forsaken son commended his little child unto his care, and then died suddenly. Wherefore the grandfather was so greatly moved with compassion that he adopted the child for his own, and made him coheir with his other son, who being therewithal displeased, accused his father to be void of his senses, but he gainsaid him thus:  
THis were a very new manner of losing a man's wits, seeing that by your saying I should be very wise, if I did not know those which were mine own. Truly I did expect that some body should have entreated or requested me to have revoked this my poor forsaken son, but no man durst be so bold, seeing thou which wert his brother, didst never do thine endeavour therein: wherefore it is to be supposed, that all men knowing thy ambition to be fool heir, they feared to displease thee. Alas this poor man's life was only prolonged but until he might speak with me, and when he had once heard me, he opened his eyes, (shut up in a manner already) to see me, retaining his fleeting soul but only whilst he bade me farewell, so that I may rightly say he left both life and child in my bosom. To conclude, I well perceived by his end (but alas too late) that he was truly my son; but thy rigorous cruelty towards him, and thy great ingratitude towards me, maketh mec in doubt whether thou art his brother or no.  

The Answer.  
THe father of this child is unknown, and although he were, yet do your own deeds sufficiently testify that you are not well in your wits, if you forsook my brother without a cause: but if he were worthy of your displeasure, he did yet further deserve it in marrying with a lewd woman, and if he by this marriage were the more unworthy to be revoked, much more unworthy than is this bastard and unknown child, to be your heir: so that I know not whether of the two injuries you do unto my brother is the greater; either in taking away part of his brother's inheritance from him, or in adopting him a false heir. Being persuaded and importuned by this dishonest woman, he recommended unto you his son, which he did very well know he never begat: but what cannot such women persuade? Or what will he refuse to do for a whore, that was not ashamed to give himself unto her? How then can you be judged wise in adopting another man's son, to disherit your own?    

Declamation. 52.  
Of the unchaste woman that was adjudged to be thrown headlong down more than one time.  
A Woman that was attainted of whoredom, and for the same condemned to be cast headlong down from the top of an high tower, being ready to be thrown down, did pray unto God that he would declare her innocency, in preserving her from death; her prayers being ended, she fell from the top down to the ground without receiving any hurt at all. Nevertheless, the Marshal would have thrown her down again. Whereunto she replied in this sort:  
WHerefore will you resist the will of God, which hath preserved me? And were it not so, yet is the judgement accomplished. I was (though wrongfully) condemned to be thrown headlong down, I have so been, my judgement and execution being accomplished, what would you else do? Am I not acquitted, Seeing that it was not said that I should be executed any more than once? Neither is any man ever executed two times, especially because every judgement ought rather to be mitigated by clemency, then aggravated by cruelty. If you would punish me for the offence which you suppose I have committed against God; seeing he hath declared me to be innocent, why would you offend him in punishing me? It is the usual place from whence others are thrown down, wherefore it is very likely, that if I had been guilty, I should no doubt have died as well as they.  

The Answer.  
THou showest thyself to be as shameless at thy punishment, as thou wert when thou didst commit the offence which thou wouldst now deny. Knowest thou not that denial after sentence is once past, is nothing available? The meaning of which sentence must be interpreted, which is, that thou must die, likewise it is either a chance that thou art not dead, or else thou usest some charms or witchcraft: for were it as thou sayest, that God would have thee saved for thine innocency; he would rather have defended thee before thou hadst been condemned falsely, than sheilded thee from death after thy fall: but it is more likely that he would prolong thy pain, because so short a death is too easy for so heinous a crime as thine is: or else because thou hast committed other offences, he would have thee cast down more times than once; for God is not so slack to help the innocents: He saved Susanna before she was stoned, not suffering the stones to touch her body. Finally, if it be his divine will that thou shouldest be unpunished, thou shalt have as little hurt at the second or third throwing down as thou hadst at the first.    

Declamation. 53.  
Of her who having killed a man being in the stews, claimed for her chastity and innocency to be an Abbess.  
THe order of the religious women is such, as they must be pure, chaste, and free from all crime, but the Abbess must be the chastest of all the rest. Whereupon it chanced that a certain young Nun of Naples was to sail into Sicily to be an Abbess there, but her misfortune was such, that she was taken upon the sea by Pirates, they sold her unto a bawd in Barbary, who put the said Nun into a Brothelhouse to get money by her, but she declaring her misfortune unto such men as came to take their pleasure of her, did so win them by her persuasions, that they giving her the accustomed reward, left her a virgin: until that on a time there came unto her an insolent soldier, who would in no sort regard her speech but having paid his money, would by force have had his will of her, and as he was striving with her, she drew his dagger forth of his sheath, and slew him, for the which she was put in prison, but being before the judges, she was not only acquitted of the murder, but also they sent her back unto Sicily unto the place whether she was determined to go. She being there arrived, they would not receive her for Abbess, but said.  
THis woman here which would be an Abbess, should yet have been in the Brothelhouse, if she had not murdered a man; but can she be chaste, coming from such a place? Nay let us see whether it be lawful to receive such into monasteries, whom the stews and the prison forsaketh, Seeing the order of religion may very lawfully be denied, even unto those as do but only pass by such places? she saith fortune constrained me unto these inconveniences, therefore ought every one to have compassion upon me: but we say that those which are worthy of pity, are unworthy of a prelateship, neither is it a custom amongst us, that such places as are of greatest honours should be bestowed in recompense of sustained harms, seeing that the only freeing them from their said harms may serve for a sufficient recompense of their passed miseries. Likewise, we may consider how smally she deserved by the little care her parents took of her distress, not only in suffering her to be lost or taken away, but being taken never sought either to recover her, or once to seek her out: and what did the Pirates see in her that they rather sold her unto a pander, then to a Princess, or to some other honourable lady? If she knew how to persuade so many men to leave her a Virgin, (as she saith) wherefore could she not persuade her mistress to suffer her to gain her living by some other means, rather than to put her forth to so vild a use; or else why did she not as Hippo the fair Grecian did, who leapt into the sea so soon as she perceived that she was taken by Pirates. Alas if this woman obtain the Abbesseship, greatly are the Nuns of this order to be pitied, if amongst them there cannot be found one more chaste than an harlot, or more innocent than a murderer. She cannot be chaste enough to rule over us, especially seeing she saith; I knew how to persuade all those that came unto me: the which showeth a certain token of her immodesty, for otherwise how could she have prattled so well in that place where such as were modest would have burst into tears, and without being able to speak one only word, would have died for shame. Let us then take the case thus: that in her there are three do claim to be Abbess, the first, is one taken by Pirates, the second such a one as hath lived in the stews, & the third she that murdered a man, of whom the best is far unworthy of any honour.  

The Answer.  
GOd herein was minded to show his power, by making this woman free in bondage, chaste in a dishonest place, and most innocent in committing murder to defend her chastity. I know not whether any did ever deserve the place of Abbess so well as she: but I am sure there would be somewhat to do to depose all the Abbesses that are less worthy than she. How chaste she is, the blood of the slain soldier doth testify; how innocent she is, the judges do declare; how happy she is, her return doth show. Wherefore it is very manifest that God would never have preserved her from so many perils, if it had not been to serve him in some worthy place. Therefore the same God which hath protected her, is himself alone a further testimony of her chastity, and he only is able to comprehend her admirable valour.    

Declamation. 54.  
Of him who against his father's mind persuaded his sister to cause him to die that had forced her.  
THe law is, that whosoever killeth a man by chance, he should be banished or put to exile for five years: likewise every maid that is forced or ravished, may choose whether she will have the ranisher die, or whether she will have him to be her husband. Whereupon it chanced that a certain man which had a son and a daughter, was exiled for the cause aforesaid: his daughter that remained with her brother in the house was ravished by another young man, who after his fault committed, fled unto the maiden's father, with whom he so much prevailed, that he obtained letters from him, wherein he commanded his daughter to choose her said ravisher for her husband, and not to require his death; the father likewise writ unto his son, entreating him to persuade his sister to consent thereunto: who on the contrary constrained his sister to demand his death, so that the father at his return did cast off and disherit his son, saying:  
A Lass my misfortune is intolerable, seeing that I being (as always I have been) a lover of the Commonwealth, have notwithstanding bereaved her of two men, and both against my will, yet not without being culpable therefore; in the one manslaughter I was abused by fortune, in the other by him who is in name (yet not indeed) my son, that hath enforced his sister to disobey her father, as well as he, in a just commandment, and caused her to obey him in a cruel revenge, some may say that it is incident unto man to offend, it had been a sufficient excuse, if I had not both advertised and entreated him the contrary, and also if he had not known the grief which I already sustained for being the cause of a man's death, and that I did therefore owe a citizen unto the commonwealth, whom I might have satisfied in saving the life of this same man, by whom many others might have been begotten; so that having slain the other unadvisedly, I might have saved this circumspectly: but thou because thou wouldst have no nephews by thy sister, and that thou mightest cause me die with sorrow, hast broken my purpose, wherefore I judge thee unworthy of the heritage, which so plainly thou seekest to obtain by so many unreasonable means.  

The Answer.  
THe death of a good Citizen, cannot be repaired by saving the life of a wicked caitiff, for that is no satisfaction, but rather a double offence unto the Commonwealth: Moreover, those children which should be borne by the marriage of a ravisher would serve but for witnesses of their father's shame, and the wrong done unto our stock, the which ought not to be increased by him that had doublie wronged them, having not only injuriously assailed the house of an exile (although the affliction of the afflicted ought not to be increased) but also after he had wronged him, without any shame at all coming before him, he first made him privy to the injury, and in a manner both constrained him to consent unto it, and to allow thereof: wherein then have I offended? By complaining of the injury done to my absent father? I cannot be either forsaken or disherited, because I have done but according unto law. Likewise my father who was so far off from the place where the wrong was committed, could not well judge thereof, seeing that his grief being absent, could not be like ours that were present, and also thee state wherein he was, together with his age, made him to endure wrong better than I could. Furthermore, the adulterer knowing the horribleness of his crime, went to make his agreement with him who was ignorant of the truth, and returning hither, he renewed the injury, proudly commanding us to like of his marriages, by virtue of certain letters, that (it may be) he either obtained by force, or at the least gained by fraud. No man is undone too late at any time, but a manifest undoing is it, to give one's daughter unto such a one, as with the help of such wicked imps as himself, hath both deflowered her and dishonoured her, breaking into our house by force of arms. I believe he would never tell you all this (father) or if he did tell you, and you were content therewith, or that you bewail his death any more, you are no less faulty than he.    

Declamation. 55.  
Of him who gave over his betrothed wife unto his sick son.  
A Certain man had two sons, nevertheless he was betrothed or made sure unto a young maiden, with whom one of his sons became so far in love, that he fell sick, and no doubt he had died, if the Physician had not told his father that his sons disease proceeded of love, whereupon the father came unto his son, prayed him, conjured him, and lastly threatened, not only to curse him, but also to kill him, (holding his sword in his hand) if he would not manifest unto him the cause of his sickness, and what she was whom he loved, wherefore the son seeing himself in such an extremity, trembling and weeping, confessed that he was in love with his mother in law; the father to save his sons life yielded her whom he had betrothed unto him, and caused them to be married together. The other son who was envious against his brother, accused his father to have lost his wits, the which the father denied, saying:  
IT is thou that hast lost thy wits, or at the least art utterly blinded with passion and ill will, so that thou wilt be the cause, that every man will be amazed at such an act as was never seen: that a mother in law should be more pitiful unto her son in law then thou art unto thine own brother. Callest thou that want of understanding, when by my wisdom I save my son, in granting him her, who in no sort was aggreeable for me: I say that in keeping her from him, I should have lost my wits, seeing that she might have done ill, I might not have done well, and my son should have died: I am sure that he loved her better and more fervently than I did, therefore is she due unto him, what wrong do I thee? Art thou angry to have thy brother, and not a mother in law? I did draw the sword before his face, the which no man could take forth of my hands, but only himself in confessing the truth. lastly, all that a father doth to save his sons life is not only very excusable, but to be accounted for exceeding great wisdom and just pity.  

The Answer.  
IT had been better for my brother to have died, then to have caused his concupiscence so apparently to be disclosed, Seeing the best that can be said of him is, that he was healed by adultery: that you have saved him by execration, and she hath helped him by abomination. Why may not that be termed worse than adultery which is done chiefly by the commandment of the husband? I know not whether you have showed yourself more mad in betrothing this woman, or in forsaking her, or else in marrying her again with your son? But how far besides himself is he, that thinketh it a good deed or a good turn to commit whoredom? A wise man (no doubt) that drew his sword, not to punish adultery, or to eschew the slander thereof, but rather to enforce his wife and son to commit adultery together. My brother ought rather to have perished, then to be cured so perniciously; but suppose that if he had lusted after his sister, or his mother, ought he to have had either of them? These remedies are more dangerous, and more grievous, than danger, mischief, or death itself. But all this hath been compacted betwixt the son, the betrothed woman, and the Physician, who likewise claimed an interest therein; And thus the disease, the cure, and the adulteries proceeded of your folly.    

Declamation. 56.  
Of a man that is found dead in his bed, his wife wounded, and the accusations together with the witness of a child.  
IT chanced that a certain man being a widower that had a son, married his second wife, by whom he had another son: and because his first son did but badly agree with his mother in law, the father gave him part of his house, which was nevertheless divided with a wall, so that they were several: likewise this old man had a receiver or factor which was a young man and a fair, so that this man was somewhat suspicious that he loved his wife, which jealousy was not a little increased by the sons persuasions, so that thereby oftentimes there chanced such brawls between them, that his ●actor and he were upon terms of parting. Whereupon it happened, that shortly after the nieghbors through the wives exclamations, ran into the house, where they found the goodman slain in his bed, his wife wounded, and so much of the common wall broken down, that a man might teasily pass thorough it: wherefore not only the son, but also the factor was suspected to be guilty of this murder; and having apprehended them both, they brought them before the child being of three years old, who did lie in the same bed, and asked him which of them it was that had beat his father, the child pointed with his singer unto the factor, wherefore the son accused him for murdering his master: but the factor through the breaking of the wall, accused the son for murdering his father, saying:  
O How wicked this world of ours is, seeing that it hath brought forth so cursed a man, that hath at one instant both murdered his father, & would have done the like to his mother in law so that I believe the fear of missing did in some sort hinder or stay his murderous hand, from giving so great a stroke as he intended, and she feigned herself dead lest his purpose should have been effected; or to save her husband's life, whom this traitor hath murdered lest he should have been a witness against him for the fact, as also because he did most unnaturally hate him, for the kind and honest love the man did bear unto his wife, and therefore he sought the means to expel me from hence, that he might better accomplish his wicked enterprise, for two are more easily slain then three, and it may be that he did put on such like apparel as mine to abuse this poor infant, and to corrupt his innocency by false testimony: but what witness can be more manifest, than the breaking of the wall, the which is likewise pulled down, for the desire he had to murder his mother in law.  

The Answer.  
IT is very apparent that thou comest neither unprovided of sophistical arguments long before premeditated, nor that thou art any whit abashed of this murder, seeing that the horror there of doth nothing hinder thy tongue from babbling. O miserable man that I am: hearing the noise I ran thither thinking to have seen the adulterers taken, but alas I found my father killed, which doth astonish me in such sort as I will only answer that I do not only rest upon the child's demonstration, but upon his further affirmation, although thou hast of long time kept him in awe, so that in pointing to thee with his finger, he hath both declared thee to be the murderer, and also that thou hast oftentimes forbidden him to accuse thee for the lascivious kisses proffered in his presence: there is not any witness more sufficient than the pointing of this innocent child who is of sufficient age to be able to know and discern, although not subtle enough to deceive feign or lie. If thou sayest that one witness is not sufficient, then will I stand unto the people's censure, and will not refuse that thou she and I may be all three examined by torments, for God the right and fortitude shall be for the innocent.    

Declamation. 57  
Of him that would compel his son to marry with his sister in law, that was by him accused of adultery.  
A Man had two sons, to the one whereof he gave a wife, who being married, made a certain very long voyage into a far country, during his absence, his brother took such an hatred against his sister in law that he accused her of adultery, but yet not before the judges, whereupon her husband being returned, took a bondwoman that was his wives servant, and caused her to be tortured so extremely to know the truth, that she died with the torment not confessing any thing, wherefore his father, that loved his daughter in law, did sharply reprove him, that he would so lightly conceive an ill opinion of her. He as well for grief that he had wrongfully suspected his wives honesty, and unjustly killed her bondwoman, as also to perceive his brother's malice, and to have procured his father's displeasure, did despair, and either hanged or killed himself, wherefore the father willed that according to the jewish law, the other son should marry his brother's widow, or if otherwise he refused, he would utterly forsake him and renounce him for his heir, against the which his son pleaded in this sort:  
YOu would have me to marry with my brother's widow, whom I have accused for an adulteress, (as in sooth she is) who caused both my brother to kill himself for grief, and compelleth you to disherit me. I believe that you tempt me to take her to try whether I did accuse her wrongfully or no, for you yourself would never give me an adulteress to wife: but you might think, if I did take her that she is chaste, and I am false: truly if you could make me to marry her that both hateth me mortally, and I know to be a dishonest woman, one might then assuredly believe that nothing would be ever impossible for you to effect. But why would you compel me to make her my bedfellow that hath made me brotherless? Her I say that is the cause of her husband's death, of the discord twixt you and me, of the scandal to our lineage, and of the people's murmuring? I have already chosen a wife that loveth me, that will follow me if I will, that will never forsake me either in adversity or prosperity, and finally that will be such a one unto me as a wife ought to be unto her husband, which will be more worth unto me then a most great inheritance; whereas if on the contrary I should marry this woman, every one might suppose that I loved my brother but little, to wed her that was the cause of his loss.  

The Answer.  
THere is nothing more reasonable (seeing thy brother was desirous by his death to acquit the wrong which he had done unto his wise, by giving credit to thy false accusation) then that thou by marrying her, mightest also declare her innocency; for the shortest follies are best: wherefore it were better for thee to confess, and blot out thy fault by doing well, then in persevering always in thine obstinacy, to show thyself in a double fault, for thou art the only cause of all these chances and slanders which thou objectest; therefore in not making amends for thy fault, I may lawfully disinherit thee for thy folly.    

Declamation. 58.  
Of the sorceress, which poisoned her son in law, and accused her own daughter to have been consenting thereunto.  
THe law appointeth that every woman which useth poysoh, being convinced of the crime, should be tortured, until she accused such as were partakers or consenting unto her wicked act. Whereupon it happened that a man having but one son, married a second wife, of whom he had one daughter, who being of reasonable years, the son died of poison, and the mother in law is not only suspected for his death, but accused and convinced thereof; wherefore she being laid upon the rack to make her confess such as were consenting to her fact, she accused her own daughter, so that she was adjudged to be burned with her mother: but the poor father gainsaid it thus.  
AH miserable child, seeing thy mother hateth thee as much as thy father loveth thee; O mischievous woman that even unto thine own daughter thou art worse than a stepdame, art thou not sufficiently glutted with thy passed murders, but thou must further gorge thee with thy daughter's massacre? But who knoweth not that such kind of people desire not to die without slaughter? Wherefore amongst the fencers, or soldiers, that combat is most cruel which is fought against a desperate man that is sure to die: no doubt but they that may not live, will procure any murder if they can, for the death of others maketh them the less to bewail the life which they are ready to lose; and where despair is, there doth rage abound, because the horror of death, filleth their courage with fury, & they resemble certain beasts that bite those weapons wherewith they are wounded, & being thrust through, they make their wound the greater, that they might approach near him that hath gored them. But how should she fear to bely one, that taketh a pleasure to poison any? Why will not she effect my daughter's death, that without any cause wrought my sons decay? But what son? Truly even he that might have been beloved of every stepdame that had been less wicked than she, that cannot so much as love her own husband. But to do him a despite, she hateth her own daughter to death, and remembering that she was a mother in law, forgetteth that ever she was a mother indeed: let then the truth of the innocent father be of more estimation than the leasings of the guilty mother, seeing that in the extremity of death or torments, the wicked do never speak truth. For proof whereof, a bondman that Cato had, being convinced of theft, and tortured therefore, affirmed that Cato was accessary to the theft, who was then better to be believed, the bondman and the torture, or Cato? In like sort you are more to credit the innocency of the daughter, than the malice of the mother.  

The Answer.  
THere are some beasts so raging mad, that their young ones are no sooner brought forth, but they become as fierce as their dames, wherefore it is best to strangle them while they are young; likewise the venomous herb taketh his poison from the root, how much more than may this girl be wicked, being born of a mother so execrable, and so much the rather, because the daughters do always resemble the mother more than the father: how greatly then hath her wicked nature been furthered by lewd counsel, with hope and ambition to be herself the sole heir? Which was the principal occasions, that this stepmother poisoned your son, and that the daughter consented thereunto: wherefore it were no reason that she should escape punishment.    

Declamation. 59  
Of the Praetor that caused the head of a malefactor to be cut off at the request of a whore.  
Flaminius' the Roman Praetor governing in France, sitting at the table with a common woman whom he dearly loved, she said unto him, that she had of long time desired to see some man executed by justice, but she was ashamed to go unto the common place of execution. Whereupon he forthwith commanded a condemned prisoner to be brought, and in the hall where he supped, he caused him to be beheaded in his presence: the which deed was reported at Rome, wherefore a long time after Cato accused him of Treason against the Commonwealth, saying:  
THe interludes, comedies, flatteries, whoredoms, and other tricks far unworthy a Roman Praetor, might very well have sufficed, without further adding thereunto a spectacle so cruel, for the recompense of a banquet so lascivious; It may be one only kiss of a minion, bought all the whole blood & life of a man, so that he might be justly termed a worse hangman which sat at the table to behold the same with pleasure, than was he which smit of the head, perchance not without pity: I do not seek to rip up all the faults of so many years past to accuse him, but that one only night his act. It is more likely that he which bestoweth much upon a woman, would deny her the slaughter of a man, then it is possible for him which granteth her the slaughter of a man, to deny her any thing; if thou wouldst whip a slave, wouldst thou not carry him forth of the banqueting hall? But who would ever have believed that a whore should have desired to behold the hangman's sword upon the cupboard, and the table to be stained with human blood: but yet who would have thought that ever any Roman Praetor could have granted such a matter? Oh what an abominable act is this? But what shall I say, seeing the Roman Empire hath been in such sort blemished, and the law rather polluted, than the offender thereof punished? Forsake your graves, O you Bruti, Horatij, Fabritij, and all the rest of you who were the ornament of this Empire, alas behold how your rods, axes, and other signs of office, have been abandoned unto dishonest damsels only to please them, and to make them sport: every offence that is committed by a Magistrate under colour of his authority, is more punishable than any other fault; for the Magistrate is a spectacle for all other men, because all men do mark and cast their eyes upon his acts, and this man whilst the beholders, the hangman, and the poor prisoner, stoood all looking upon him, suffered both his own eyes, and understanding to be ravished by the looks of an harlot. O earth cover this abomination, to the end that it may be no more remembered.  

The Answer.  
IF hypocrisy or secret ambition did not more provoke thee then doth the zeal of the Commonwealth, I suppose thou wouldst have been as slack in accusing me, as thou knowest the same hath in no sort been wronged by me, because the Commonwealth can no more be disgraced by one man's folly, than it may be dignified by one alone man's forwardness: but as nothing is well said which is not rightly understood, so is nothing well done that is wrongfully interpreted, otherwise I should be untouched of crime, and you not untaxed of slander. For the Commonwealth is able enough to reprove that which is not done according to reason and equity, but also to reprehend whatsoever is unprofitable for it. Have not the Senate and people refused to hold those agreements which were made by their Emperors or Generals, and sent them bound unto the enemies? If they have not allowed the faults of two Emperors together, wherefore should the fault of one only Praetor be laid unto their charge? (If to execute a man by justice may be termed a fault.) But what need you to inquire where or when such a one did die that was worthy to die? You say that I have slain one; It is true: but whom have I slain, save only a condemned man? You ask when and where? I answer that it was in the night, and in the common hall. And I do ask you if any time or place is limited wherein or where a malefactor ought to suffer? and although there were, yet who knoweth not that in the presence or company of a loose woman, there is always little good performed? and that the common hall or the prison is no other than a place of horror and misery for offenders? But it hath been an ancient custom at Rome, that against such as they cannot charge with any great crime, they would feign find out some small occasion of quarrel, like as they sought to condemn Brutus, who did afterwards recover their liberty, and so did they accuse Manlius of inhumanity, Silla of cruelty, Marius of ambition, Lucullus of superfluity, and many others of covetousness. But touching my deed, what art thou more than the other Censors, that have been ever since the fault which thou chargest me withal, who have never accused me therefore, not that they are any whit thy inferiors in wisdom, or equity, or that they are less lovers of the Commonwealth than thou, but because they could better than thou consider that it was not lawful, and less reasonable to blemish so many worthy actions of our lineage, for a small vanity of one alone, who cannot yet be said to have done any act, either contrary to duty or against justice.    

Declamation. 60.  
Of a man without hands that renounced his son, because he would not kill his mother being found in adultery.  
THe law saith, that if any man do take his wife committing adultery, it is lawful for him to slay them both her and the adulterer, but yet it must be without deceit; likewise it saith, that the son may revenge the adultery for his father. Whereupon it happened that a martial man lost his two hands in the wars, and as one mischance doth never happen alone, within a small time after he surprised his wife in adultery, and finding himself unable, he commanded his son to slay them, the son would not, whereupon he renounced him for his heir, saying:  
I Shall then by thy fault amongst all men be he alone that hath neither pardoned nor punished adultery; but who in this case will not imagine that either I had no son, or that my son had no hands? Yet my greatest grief consisteth in this, that I know the contrary. Alas, in finding the adulterers, I felt in good earnest how great a miss I had of my hands, alack I lost them in the wars, and my son could not find his in the house; wherefore I may say that he stood me in as little stead as my sword which I could not use. How shall he either vanquish the enemy, or defend his country, which hath denied the help of his hands unto his father? When will he sight for us, that could not fight for himself? Get thee packing then with the adulterers whom thou hast suffered to escape, and leave me rather alone, then so badly accompanied. Thou sayest thy heart would never serve thee to kill thy mother; why dost thou not also say that the adulterer is thy father, as I do verily believe, and thou dost show he is? Seeing thou soughtest rather to please him in a matter unjust and execrable, then me in that wherein by the gods, law, and reason, thou wert commanded. Wherefore it cannot be said that I do either renounce or disinherit thee without a cause.  

A very notable answer of the son.  
ALas, me thought it was in a manner all one to murder my father, as to kill my mother in his presence; and as it was never allowable in a reasonable man to be cruel, so were rigorous laws made more to terrify all, than to torment any; for if the law be strict, the interpretation thereof is large, and they ought to tend rather unto clemency, than cruelty: a great mischief can never be appeased in committing two others. Moreover, the pleasure of revenge doth suddenly vanish, but the contentment of mercy doth never vade; so likewise doth every pitiful heart melt, in thinking upon the horribleness of murder, wherefore with the spectacle of a misfortune so sudden, all my body became senseless. You good father did lack your hands, but before I could recover my spirits, I lost all my members; yet was the mischief which you commanded more great, than all the misery which had happened was grievous: pardon me then if I did not accomplish your commandment, in a thing which far exceeded my strength and courage. A father pardoneth his son, if he refuse to fail, because he cannot brook the seas, & that his heart doth faint as mine did; the like happeneth if his heareserueth not to go unto the wars, although he be the son of a warlike father; for every man is not borne to manage arms. And it is to be considered for what intent the law saith that it is lawful for the father or the son to slay the adulterers: Truly it was because the lawmakers were not ignorant that there were some men which either could not or would not kill one another; what can I do with all if we are both of the same number, you made by the war unapt, and I by nature unable: wherein then can you blame me, saving that the adulterers are escaped, because you were maimed and I amazed or almost in a swoon? If the fault then be common, why should I for the same be only condemned?    

Declamation. 61.  
Of two maidens ravished by one man, for the which the one required his death, and the other desired him for her husband  
THe law permitteth a maiden that is ravished, to choose either the death of the ravisher, or to take him for her husband. Whereupon it chanced that one man deflowered two maidens in one night, so that the next morning the one required that he might die, and the other requested to have him for her husband, wherefore she that desired his death, said thus:  
WHo did ever see any man saved for one offence, by the means of another fault far more heinous? For if sin proceed from human frailty, to persevere in the ●an●e is a devilish obstinacy; one deflowered maid accuseth him, the other defendeth him: revenge you our cause then O you judges, let the severity of your discipline be redoubled, seeing the crime is double: the people do already secretly desire it, for he hath not only forced or ravished twain, but I alone have been deflowered by twain, that is to say, by him that did the deed, & by her that would preserve him from death: must he be suffered to live, that hath deserved to die twice? Had he but deserved one death only, he should not live any longer, because no body would have defended him; but this woman would unto our shame verify the Proverb, which men do impose upon our sex, saying, That women are self-willed, and that they do always choose the worst. If thou hadst been the first that had been forced, I do hardly believe that thou wouldst have desired him for thy husband. To conclude, as thou canst not sue any further in his behalf, save only that thou mayest not be deprived of thy choice; so also canst thou not abridge me of my request: it is in thy choice to save his life for the fault he hath committed against thee, but thou canst not command his life for the injury done against me, seeing that I was first wronged, let me be first revenged, and afterwards thou shalt wed him if thou wilt.  

The Answer.  
THou sayest that thou wert the first that was wronged, I do not know so much, and therefore affirm that it was I; or if I were the last, them was mine the greater wrong: for that which he did unto thee, may be excused, either by love, or necessity; but what he offered unto me can be no better termed than insolency, malice, or disdain, seeing that than his greatest heat was passed: nevertheless, considering that clemency is more natural unto our sex then cruelty, I say that where the prerogatives or claims are of equal force, there is more respect to be had unto humanity then rigour: and if you allege unto me the examples of Lucrece and Virginia, I will in like sort allege unto you the Sabines, and others, no less honest but more discreet, and the greater number, from whom hath proceeded greater good, witness so many worthy Romans issued from them. His death can serve to no other end, but to eternize the memory of our infamy, either by the public or secret revenge of his kindred: never did any man's death profit a woman. lastly, if thou thinkest that thy honour deserveth his death, I answer that mine is not unworthy of his life, and I believe that the judges will affirm my wish to be more just than thy will.    

Declamation. 62.  
Of him that his father did disherit, because he went unto the wars.  
THe privilege of the war was that he which had been thrice a conqueror, should be freed from going to the wars any more. Whereupon it happened that a certain Roman, which had been thrice a conqueror, would return unto the wars against his father's will. Who seeing that he would needs go, did for his obstinacy disherit him, whereunto the son pleaded in this sort.  
FIrst I am bound unto God that he hath made me three times victorious; and next unto him, am I bound unto my country, for the love which I have born unto it hath been the cause that I did fight and got the victory; wherefore after I have performed my duty unto these twain I will obey my father in all things, who ought not to be against the public good, and my glory▪ it may be that he himself hath not been thrice a conqueror, wherefore it is requisite that I should supply his default, or my children's defect, who peradventure shall never be of such desert; but why would you dissuade me from sighting after the obtaining of three victories, Seeing that they do yet fight whom I have thrice vanquished? As the Senator which is past threescore years of age, may choose whether he will come to Counsel ye or no, and yet such as are much older do notwithstanding come thither so long as they live, so is it 〈◊〉 for me to go unto the wars, when honour commandeth me, as oft as list. In that which is past, I 〈…〉 no more than my duty, and therefore I 〈…〉 reward, but that which hereafter I shall do of free will, shall merit a recompense. You would have him to be idle, that never loved ease; you see the danger wherein we stand, all the Citizens do fix their eyes upon me, and to speak the truth, the Commonwealth doth yet owe me nothing for my passed victories, seeing that it could not excuse me from the battle, but now the same law shall allow it to be desert, which before did appoint it a duty. Seeing then that what I do is but for your profit and honour, why should you disavow me for your heir, me I say which will fight to maintain your life, your house, and the inheritance which you will take from me.  

The Answer.  
THou dost acquit thyself towards God and thy country in obeying thy father in a matter both lawful and reasonable, for the Commonwealth hath as great need of pitiful and obedient men unto the laws, and their Parents, as it hath of such as are valiant, wherefore thou art bound to be both the one and the other; thou art already known to be valiant, be thou then likewise known to be pitiful, obedient, and loving towards thy poor father, who shall die if thou shouldest miscarry by thy over boldness. Dost thou think to be victorious in fight against the law and the will of thy father? No, for God is too just. A●neas was not so much praised for all his heroical deeds, as he was commended for loving his aged father, and for preserving him from the Trojan site. Dost thou wonder if thy father be no less careful for the 〈◊〉 of thy person, than the law is which forbiddeth 〈…〉 hazard thyself any more in the like peril. I had rather to renounce thee suddenly, then having lost thee in the wars, to be attached with a double sorrow: it is therefore in thy choice to remain my son or no. It is a far greater virtue to be able to contain thyself within thy bounds, then to perish in this battle: thou shalt go in greater danger to lose thy got reputation, then to enlarge thy future renown; therefore thou being my son no longer, my grief shall be the less.    

Declamation. 63.  
Of him that appeased the father of a maiden whom he had ravished, and yet could not pacify his own father.  
THe law commandeth, that if any man do ravish a virgin, that he should die therefore, unless that within thirty days he do both pacify or appease the next of kin unto the said damsel, & likewise the nearest of kin unto himself. Whereupon it fell out so, that a certain young man ravished a young virgin, and before the prefixed term he had thoroughly appeased the maiden's father, but yet his own father would by no means be satisfied, wherefore he accused his father to have lost his wits, saying:  
HOw can that man be said to have his understanding, that is more cruel unto his own son, then is he that hath been offended? There is no beast in the world so fierce, that seeketh not to preserve that which it hath it hath engendered; whereby it appeareth that those which do otherwise, may be judged to have less understanding than brute beasts. If you think that I have wronged you in not coming rather unto you as to him whom I was most bounden unto, then unto the virgins father; You must consider that it was because he was more wronged than you, and that I judged you more pitiful than he, and he harder to be entreated than you. But alas infortunate that I am, I have found mine enemy more favourable than mine own father, so that I know not what else to say, but that amongst such men as have their wits, the love of the father doth always exceed the sons folly. If it please you to save my life, or if your cruelty be such as you loath to see me live, speak, for the time is at hand? But I grieve not so much to die, (if you have lost your wits) as I sorrow for the perpetual moan that you will make, in that you have been the abridger of my days, when as time more than reason shall have mitigated your choler, and restored your understanding, whereof now I may well say you are deprived, or at the least that the same is mightily diminished.  

The Answer.  
THou sayest that the maiden's father was more wronged than was I, I grant it, yet canst thou not likewise deny but that I have greater cause of offence than he: for thy force did take away the maiden's shame, but I shall be ever dishonoured to have begotten a son so dissolute, that hath displeased his father, wronged a Citizen, deflowered a virgin, defamed his stock, and given cause of offence unto the Commonwealth. It is thou that wantedst thy wits, seeing thou couldst not know that at one instant thou shouldest not have committed so many mischiefs together; and most mad thou wert, if in knowing the same thou couldst not shun the same, but heaping one offence upon another, thou wouldst slander me to have lost my wits, whereby it appeareth that as virtues, so are vices linked together. Thou accusest me before I have condemned thee, the term is not yet expired, I do very well know that thy life and death are yet in my choice: Have I then lost mine understanding, wherefore dost thou tremble? why doth thy tongue falter? For what cause are thine eyes troubled? The thirtieth day is not yet come: but wherefore wouldst thou that any man should pity thee, seeing thou wert pitiless unto the damsel, who when thou didst ravish her, showed no less sorrow than thou dost now? Wherefore couldst not thou consider what vice is at the first, as well as at the last, which is always a present pleasure, but a parting pain, leaving always either some scourge, or at the least a most sound sorrow accompanied with a horrible fear? but although I should leave thee thy life, dost thou think to remain unpunished? will not thin own conscience torment thee far worse than any hangman would? Nay why should I grant that unto mine enemy, which I have denied unto my son? For seeing thou accusest me, thou canst not be rightly termed my friend, much less my son. Is it to be wondered at if I rest doubtful, seeing that the law itself hath neither determined thy death, nor concluded thy marriage? Thou hast always behaved thyself as if thou hadst been allowed to do any sin, thou hast not yet entreated me as thou oughtest, but hast rather requested the other his friendship then my favour; and having first appeased his fury, thou afterwards thoughtest assuredly to constrain me to wink at thy fault. Would a fool consider thus much? Tell me then wherein I am a fool: Have I lived badly, or committed such folly as thou hast? Have I forgotten the laws? Have I not counted thy days? Can I not prove wherefore thou art unworthy of my favour, demanding it after such a fashion? I have consulted with our kindred, I have devised with our friends, alas what pains have I taken, to perform a father's duty. Ah me most miserable, seeing that my anger is so just, that I cannot yet forget it. I do not wonder although thou hast appeased the maiden's father, for it is easier to pardon an injury than a crime, yea when he came to entreat for thee, his kindness did the more harden my heart against thee, for me thought that a man so honest aught in no sort to be harmed: thou tellest me that the time is short, how then couldst thou find so much leisure as to accuse me? Do men appease their misdeeds after such a manner? Is that the way to obtain favour? Dost thou now think it fit to entreat? But tell me wherefore am I beside my wits? Is it because I have not pardoned thee? The time is not yet past, I may yet pardon thee, although thou art unworthy, seeing thou accusest me before I have hurt thee.    

Declamation 64.  
Of the husband that did put away his wife, who being tortured, did yet save his life in not confessing that he pretended to murder the Tyrant.  
A Tyrant being suspicious that a Citizen pretended his death, caused him to be apprehended, and committed him to prison, and there tortured him, to cause him to confess his conspiracy, and who were his confederates; but the Citizen would not confess any thing, whereupon the Tyrant did also cause the Citizen's wife to be tortured, who in like sort would confess nothing, wherefore they were delivered and set at liberty. Within a short time after the said Citizen killed the Tyrant, and being greatly rewarded and honoured by the Commonwealth for the deed, he put away his wife as one that was barren, because she had been five years with him, and never conceived any child. For which cause she accused him of ingratitude, saying:  
THat which the Tyrant was unwilling to do, he that killed the Tyrant would do, to show himself more unjust than was he; he would frustrate our marriage, which at his own request and entreat was solemnized, and to manifest his ingratitude the more, he would needs stay until he stood indebted unto me for his life: if he meant to forsake me, he should have put me away before I had been tortured for his love, the which torture is cause of my barrenness. O miserable woman that I am, seeing that my kindness hath procured me care, and my good deeds turneth unto my decay. Is it not very well known, that the constancy of my courage, and the silence of my tongue, have been the only overthrow of the Tyrant; I then being the cause that the Tyrant can no more break the marriages of others, why should mine be suffered to be broken. But who is ignorant, that during the Tyrant's life, the barren were esteemed most happy, because they could not see their children ravished at the Tyrant's pleasure? True it is that I have borne no children for the Commonwealth, but I dare affirm, that I am the cause that many are and shall be borne, and that henceforth there shall be no more taken from it. The Tyrant suspected my husband his intention; because either he had disclosed something, or else his countenance or behaviour discovered his pretence, but yet in any sort he cannot complain of his wives tattling, no not when she was in her extremest torments, I had always more respect unto my husband that was absent, then unto the Tyrant who was present, being more careful of his health then fearful of mine own hurt. But who can express all the preparation that was made for instruments of cruelty (able enough to daunt the courages of many men) to terrify the constancy of a feminine heart, the whips tearing my flesh, the fire, the iron shoes, the hot eggs under mine armholes, the buskins, the trestles, the pulleys, the cords, the napkin, water, oil, and the hangmen: yet all these together could never draw one only word from me to the prejudice of my husband, but proving by lively reasons, the contrary of all that was of me demanded, I was the cause of his deliverance: wherefore doth he vaunt that he hath slain the Tyrant, seeing the same was more easy for him to accomplish, then for me to endure so many torments; for I have suffered whatsoever ancient cruelty was able to invent, & that which this present age might possibly add thereunto: what shall I further say, but that the hangmen were weary and tired, and the Tyrant himself was tormented at my tortures. Having then bought with such exceeding pains, life, honour, glory, and riches for this ingrateful man, why would he put me away, to take a richer wife? For one more noble he cannot have, if that be true nobility which proceedeth from virtue. O how plainly doth it appear by him, that abundance engendereth avarice, which is the root of all vice, and enemy to all virtue, as he doth very well declare: for when he was more poor, and less wealthy, then had he more pity, and less wickedness. But what is this fellow that would prescribe nature a law, and appoint the times wherein a woman should conceive? Must he be like unto God? Doth he not yet know that he is worse than a beast that would be better than a man? Must he be so presumptuous? Consider only that if you are worthy to be honoured, I deserve not to be hated.  

The Answer.  
YOu might have just cause to reprove me for your torment, if I had not revenged your torture; if you did know that I intended to slay the Tyrant, and you neither did reveal nor confess the same, you must not think that I am any whit then more bounden unto you for it, for it is no good deed to abstain from doing ill, but to persevere in doing good: and I do verily believe that you were ignorant of my intention, for I never made you acquainted with any thing, not minding to trust a prattling woman (whose nature is to keep nothing but that which she knoweth not) with a matter which was only worthy of the advice of a manly courage, both grave, sound, and wise, the which parts I did then know to be utterly wanting in you. Nay I may truly say that before your torments, I never determined to kill the tyrant, but your sustained wrongs enforced me to seek revenge. But although you had heard something and disclosed it not, yet was the same no good turn, but fidelity; in like sort if you had but confessed never so little, you should have been worse tormented to have gotten more matter from you, and you had been deemed the more guilty in not revealing the deed before you came to the torture. Wherefore in confessing any thing, you could not but prolong your pains and shorten your life, you have then done more for yourself then for me. Having then done nothing for me, I cannot be beholding to you; not being beholding to you, I cannot be called unthankful; and the rather, because I do not wrong you in putting you away, seeing it is not because I despise you: but you must know that Cato in his old age was married again unto a poor young maiden, whereupon his son demanding of him why he gave him a mother in law? He answered: My son, it is not to offend thee, but to give unto thee more brethren as victorious as thyself, to the end that you may altogether profit the Commonwealth So mine intention is to beget children, which (as I have said) may one day be profitable unto the Commonwealth. Suffer me then to have that of another which I can never hope for of thee, and let the good and profit of the Commonwealth be preferred before our own pleasure; for we ought not to be born for our own commodity, but for the good of our native country, and those which do otherwise think, may not only say that they are unborn, but that they are unworthy to be borne: I would not then that you should be of the same number.    

Declamation. 65.  
Of a rich man that died for the love of a chaste woman, unto whom he bequeathed all his goods, whereupon her husband accused her of adultery.  
IT chanced that a certain man having a passing fair wife, left her alone at home, and he made a voyage to jerusalem: In so much that there happened a very rich merchant being a stranger to come and lodge hard by this fair woman's house, so as the said merchant became in love with her, and sending her sundry great presents, he solicited her to love him, but she refused his presents three times, and being thereby frustrate of all hope to speed, the said merchant became exceeding sick, bequeathing all his wealth unto this fair wife, adding these words unto his testament: Because I have found her chaste and modest. He being dead, the fair woman received the riches and goods, her husband is advertised thereof before he come home to his house. Whereupon he became so suddenly jealous, that at his return he accused his wife of adultery, saying:  
THou canst not deny but that either in deed or thought thou art an adulteress, for these riches do witness against thee; I will confess one only point, which is, that my absence might have been the cause thereof, but now it must be considered what a wife you are unto me, & what an husband I have been unto thee: hast thou ever wanted any thing? Or didst thou fear that thou shouldest want? What hadst thou then to do with these riches? But who knoweth not that the most women are sooner overcome with covetousness than love? Didst thou not know also that continency and concupiscence are the two keys of women's honours? for by the one it is preserved, and by the other it is polluted. Wherefore every woman of worth aught to behold nothing but the earth, & sometime her husband's face, for fear lest she should desire some other thing, & unto every stranger she ought not only show herself bashful, but uncourteous, feigning to be blind and deaf: for love entereth in by the eyes, and is conceived by the ears; also by a woman's countenance, either a denial or a consent is a great deal sooner and better perceived then by her tongue, they which make a sound denial at the first, are never importuned the second time, much less the third time. Who will ever believe that any man would have left all his goods unto a woman because he found her contrary to his wish? If he were so glad to find her chaste, why did he solicit her to be immodest? It is a great folly for any man to seek for that which he would not find: Who may not say or think that this our age is void of all shame? Seeing that a stranger witnesseth the chastity of a woman towards her husband before he is required: she that feareth not to be thought an adultereste, will never be ashamed to be one indeed; for opinion governeth all things at her pleasure, and if shame or fear of infamy did not restrain some more than another, there would not be one good woman: for shame serveth as a bridle to the immodest, and as a guide unto the chaste. What will be said, if all the world will affirm with me that thou art dishonest, Except one man only, and he but a stranger, which saith thou art chaste? wherefore the praise which he giveth thee, and the false testimony which he allegeth for thee, doth as much harm thee, as my true accusation doth hurt thee. A goodly matter no doubt, when no man assureth me of my wives honesty, but a common whorehunter: he saith that thou art to thy husband constant, and I affirm the contrary, who is more worthy to be believed, a Citizen or a stranger? A husband, or a whoremonger? Imagine (O you judges) that if this woman's shame were not too apparent, I would rather have dissembled it, then have brought it to this extremity: for he which discovereth his wives faults doth but shame himself: but I remember that notwithstanding that Caesar could not get Claudius to be convinced of the adultery wherewith he was charged, for being found in Caesar's chamber in woman's apparel, yet did not he let to put away his wife, saying, That it behoved Caesar's wife not only to be free from shame, but from suspicion. Wherefore there is no reason that I should keep her that is publicly defamed.  

The Answer for the woman.  
THat woman which is either beloved or courted, is not to be deemed therefore the less chaste, for a woman's reputation and good name depends neither upon the malice nor folly of men, who do always most desire those whom they have least hope to obtain, modesty being the special reason that provoketh a man to fancy a woman; therefore they affirm that beauty doth only engender lust, but virtue is it that most winneth love: and like as virtue is never known but when it is tried, so also doth it most appear in the resisting of vices. But what can a woman do withal, if men do love her, or if they be vicious or importunate? It is impossible to hinder any one from loving, especially seeing the Philosophers affirm, that the first motions of our own passions are not in our power, but afterwards they may be bridled by reason: what power then have we over another man's passions? Concerning the testimony of the testator, there is more likelihood of truth therein, then otherwise, for if the truth be ever spoken, it is when we must forsake this false world: and it is to be supposed that he bequeathed his goods unto her, as well because the woman's chastity had not only increased love in him, but also had converted the same into holy love; for the constancy of the woman, changed the man's vice into virtue, so that by this good deed he thought to requite the bad opinion which he had wrongfully conceived of her, before he did thoroughly know her. Wherefore I will only say that if she be to be blamed for her beauty, nature is the cause; if in that she was alone, her husband is to be condemned; if for being courted, the lover was culpable: she did deny his request, in that she was chaste; he made her his heir, therein was she happy; she accepted the inheritance, therein she did wisely: whereupon she cannot be said to be faulty in any thing, but it is your overgreat prosperity that hindereth you from tasting the sweetness of her virtue.    

Declamation. 66.  
Of him that caused his eyes to be pulled forth, to gain ten ounces of gold, the which was refused to be given unto him.  
IT was the custom of a certain Commonwealth that every Citizen which was fallen blind by mischance, should out of the common treasure be allowed ten ounces of gold for his maintenance. Whereupon it happened that ten or twelve disordered Citizens which wanted means to maintain their accustomed riotous cheer, cast lots amongst them, which of them should have his eyes pulled forth, to the end that he might receive the abovesaid sum of gold to spend upon good cheer amongst them: it chanced (as oftentimes it falleth out, that wicked counsel is most hurtful unto him that giveth it) that the lot fell unto him that was the inventor of this wickedness: Wherefore the rest took him by force, and pulled out his eyes, and sent him unto the Magistrate to demand the ten ounces of gold, but the Magistrate being advertised of the manner of the fact, would give him nothing, saying:  
HOw long have you been blind? By what chance lost you your sight so suddenly? Was it by doing any good service for the Commonwealth? I am assured it was not, for it should be contrary to thy custom, because thou never didst any, unless thy follies and disorders should be accounted for service, so that first it may be advouched that thou art no Citizen, for the honour of that name belongeth only unto the virtuous, therefore such as resemble thee may be justly termed the scum and reproach of the Commonwealth. Moreover, I am not ignorant that thou didst suffer thine eyes to be plucked out, that thou mightest with thy companions continue as long as you could that beastly life which you have begun, therefore both thou and they deserve double punishment, they for pulling out thine eyes, and thou for suffering them, for it is to the prejudice of the Commonwealth, the which if thou hadst thine eyes might if need were have employed thee as a pyoner in the wars, or to do some such thing, but now the best that can be done with thee, should be to hang thee up, to the end that thou mightst no trouble unto others, but rather serve for an example unto all. Likewise it is to be considered, that the law should be unjust if it should make men blind of purpose; the law was made to comfort the afflicted, but not for to buy them; misery needeth not to be bought, being already too abundant: therefore it is better to refuse our liberality unto one, then to be the cause that many others should make themselves blind: we relieve those which for their blindness have need of relief, but not those that pluck out their own eyes, because they would be relieved.  

The Answer.  
AS it is not the Magistrates office to increase the affliction of the afflicted, so likewise ought you not to wrong him that requireth but the performance or decree of the law, which simply saith, that every Citizen being blind, aught to have ten ounces of gold. Wherefore am not I a Citizen, seeing I was never reproved by justice, or noted of infamy? Also I have wronged none but myself: if I have wasted my patrimony, I only suffer therefore, and divers Citizens have been profited thereby: I have not then done the Commonwealth any wrong in profiting many. As for the loss of mine eyes, my meaning was not that any man's eyes should have been pulled out, but that the lot should have been cast by way of pastime, only to laugh at him upon whom it should light, but lighting upon me, they pulled out mine eyes by force: wherefore there is great reason to punish them for the wrong which they have done unto me, but yet ought not I to lose that which the law hath allotted me: if Democritus be praised of many for pulling out his eyes, that he might the better wade in the contemplation of Natural Philosophy, why should I be blamed although I had voluntarily suffered mine eyes to be plucked forth that I might the better abstain from vices? Take it then which way you list; I ought not to be denied the ten ounces of gold, seeing that I am a Citizen, and have lost my sight either by force or willingly.    

Declamation. 67.  
Of the forsaken son who first would and could not, and afterward might and would not return unto his father.  
A Man forsaketh or disheriteth his son, who went unto the wars, and returned home a conqueror, wherefore he demandeth for his reward of the Commonwealth that his father might be compelled to receive him into favour again. But the father being unwilling to be compelled to receive his son, defended himself so well, that he was no more urged thereunto. Yet because he was very desirous to have his son again without being constrained, but rather that his son might acknowledge it merely to be his benevolence: he went also unto the wars, and returning with conquest, requesteth for his reward, that his son might return unto him; and if he refused, that he should be enforced to come home again, and obeying his father, receive his inheritance, the son would not. Whereupon the father summoned him to the law, and in the presence of the judges said thus:  
MY victory is more famous than thine, for after that thou hadst vanquished, we had yet cause of further war, but my conquest was the utter overthrow of our enemies, the end of all our wars, and the assurance of our Commonwealth. But although it had not been so, yet what art thou? who begot thee but I? Say that I have not made thee worthy to return home unto me, yet these eyes, these hands, this body, these feet which thou hast, hadst thou them from any other than me? The courage, wisdom, yea and this stoutness which thou now showest, takest not thou the same from my nature? For if a villain had begotten thee, thou shouldest be like unto him; as for example, the Eagle engendereth not a dove, nor doth a lion beget a hare; wherefore one of these two must be granted, either that I am worthy of reward, or that I am unworthy to have any at all: If I be worthy, than my reward is, that thou return home again? If I deserve none, restore unto me all those above rehearsed graces which thou holdest of me. Thou wilt say, I could not obtain the same reward which thou demandest; in saying so, thou wilt but renew the quarrel for which I did renounce thee, which is, that thou wouldst never acknowledge the pre-eminence that in all things I ought to have over thee; but if thou shouldest be believed, thou wouldst take upon thee the authority of thy father, and yet thou knowest not how to love me so well as a son. O my child thou knowest not what it is to be a father, I would give thee that which thou hast especially required for thy reward: Thou mayest say, I will not be at your discretion to be cast off some other time when you list: in saying so, a man may judge that thou desirest to give me the like occasion. Dost thou not know that a father never forsaketh his son, without feeling far greater grief than doth he which is forsaken? But coming again unto both our deserts: I have behaved myself more valiantly in the wars, from whence although the aged are especially exempted, yet have I been therein employed, therefore it is a question whether thou hast been a conqueror or no? thou hast exercised thine age, but I have overcome mine age; thou hast made war, but I have finished the war; I did not only fight valiantly myself, but by my aged manhood did greatly animate the courages of young men, therefore it may be said that I deserved a double reward; be thou then the recompense of my valour. I have fought being old, I have adventured that little blood which I had left me to gain thee. Alas how far besides ourselves are we both twain, seeing that when we are requested than we do refuse, & being refused, we would with all our hearts enjoy that which we are denied, I had not so soon renounced thee, but I did as speedily desire to revoke thee, if I had not been assured that thou wouldst never acknowledge any good turn to come from me; but dost not thou compel me to be suspicious, when thou wilt not return unto thy father's house, unless it be by thine own authority, or after a boasting manner? Consider only how much more honourable it is for thee to return at mine instance then at thine own.  

The Answer.  
YOu are not to augment your victory to the prejudice of mine, in doing whereof you wrong yourself, and so much the rather, by how much you confess that the valour of men redoundeth to the glory of those that engendered them, so as in like sort the vicious son can be no other than a reproach to his father and mother, wherefore it was said that Agrippina was worthy of that cruel death which she had, only because she brought forth so vild a son as Nero. Also it cannot be died, that my victory was less famous than yours, which by mine became the more easy, because he is easily vanquished, which hath been once overcome. But setting all this apart, because unto the judges I would not be so troublesome as you have been tedious, I will only say thus much, that of a free man, I desire not to become a bondman, in as much as none can constrain a valiant man unto any thing against his mind, and seeing that you have renounced me, I am no more your son, but if you deem me so, either there is no reason to reward you with that which you affirm to be your own, or else it is more reason that my victory which was the first, should first rewarded by my return unto you, and afterwards demand what you think best for the recompense of yours.    

Declamation. 68  
Of a maiden who being ravished, did first require her ravisher for her husband, and afterwards requested his death.  
THe law is so, that a maid being ravished may either demand to be married unto the ravisher, without bringing him any marriage good at all, or else she may cause him to die. Whereupon it happened that a young maiden being ravished, accused him that ravished her, and required him for her husband, but he denied the fact, and affirmed that he never knew the maiden, yet she found the means to prove him guilty, and having convinced him thereof, she would not then marry with him, but sued that he might die. Against the which he pleaded thus:  
THou canst make thy choice but once, and the rather, because I do not yet know whether that which I alleged in my own defence was more to save my life then to salve the law, which being once corrupted, would be far more prejudicial unto others then unto me, who if the worst do chance, can have but a bad choice, when I must be constrained either to marry such a one as desireth my death, or else die for one whom I loved too dearly. Thou art not only the procurer of my shame, but also of my slaughter; for the scaffold, the hangman, the sword, the bands, and lastly my death, are all ready prepared for me, and that only by thy means. Will not all men (thinkest thou) say these are too many evils to be borne at one time, unless thou mightest be likewise a partaker thereof? Dost thou not know that overferuent love depriveth a man of his understanding? And that the law never punisheth those that offend for want of wit? They then are to be punished that offend through malice or hatred, and not such as sin through want of discretion, or too much love? Thou seekest my death because I denied the deed, but I say my denial maketh me more worthy to be excused, for thou canst not say but that it proceeded either for want of remembrance of the deed, being void of sense when I did it, or else because I was sorry or rather ashamed for mine offence; wherefore if the worst do happen, the one cause freeth me from punishment, and the other maketh me worthy to be pardoned, seeing that to every noble heart, sorrow, shame, and repentance for misdeeds, are three punishments more worse than death, which doth speedily free us from all misery, and impossible is it for any man to escape it, how soon or late soever it cometh; nay rather in prolonging of our lives we lengthen out our misery. But I pray thee tell me, seeing thou hast chosen me for thy husband, am I not the same? Wherefore then wilt thou kill thy husband, when thou meantest to save thy ravisher? Therefore I may say that herein thou resemblest the she wolf. When thou didst demand me for thy husband, thou didst not then know me to be honest and shamefast, or that I would do my best to conceal thy shame and my discredit; and now thou hast tried mine honesty, thou seekest mine overthrow: so that it seemeth thou art more angry in that I am ashamed of my folly, than thou art aggrieved with my fault: why art thou angry? Dost thou not know that love, wine, and women, do make the wisest witless? as Solomon, Samson, Hercules, Lot, Noah, and an infinite number beside do witness: likewise the night is void of shame, so that it is lawful by day to deny the faults of the dark. Thou didst choose me for thy husband, therefore thou mayst not revoke thy choice, nor the judge his sentence; nothing can be more politic or profitable in a Commonwealth, than the performance of every sentence that is given, and the observation of ancient laws. Whereby I conclude, that if thou be permitted to choose twice, the law is false, for never did any maid do the like, then seeing thou art no better than others, thou oughtest to obtain no more than they.  

The maiden's Answer.  
I Knowing thy malice, and that he which is not ashamed to commit a fault, will never be ashamed to deny the fact, did not choose thy death which thou deservedst, but thy wedding, whereof thou art unworthy; thereby to make thee acknowledge thine offence, the which thou wouldst never have done, hadst thou not been convinced by most apparent witness: so that it cannot be said that thou meantest to hide my discredit, but rather to make it more evident by the testimony of divers, and thou didst not care if I had been found a liar. They which are ashamed, sorry, or repentant for their misdeeds, have not the face to deny so audiciouslie their misdemeanours; but thereby it appeareth, that before thou didst commit the fact, thou thoughtest to escape by thy falsehood. My choice was of no value, seeing the crime was not verified, neither art thou my husband, seeing by thy denial thou hast affirmed that I had no action at all to demand thee, I do crave then the death of the malefactor, that would not take the advantage of my mercy. Likewise the law maketh no mention how many times I am to make my choice, but only that I may choose the one or the other, must not the choice for the offence be effectual? it hath not yet been because that he himself would not have it effected; I have not then chosen, but endeavoured to choose, if he had not by his denial hindered my choice. Yet now seeing the deed is no more doubtful, I do choose his death, as well because in going about to prove my allegation false, he sought to take away my life, or to take me with double infamy: the judge cannot give away my right, therefore in causing him to die, he shall satisfy those points which he saith are requisite in a Commonwealth.    

Declamation. 69.  
Of him that would be paid for his house, wherein a Tyrant was burned.  
A Tyrant seeing that he was besieged in his castle or fortress, fled unto a citizens house to hide himself. Some one of the tounsmen being advertised thereof, burned the house and the Tyrant within it, for which deed he obtained both the honour, gained the reward belonging thereunto, and likewise received many presents and gifts from the citizens. Which when he whose house was burned did perceive, he required to be satisfied for his loss by him that set it on fire, but the other refused to pay him any thing at all, saying:  
WHerefore didst thou receive the Tyrant? Why couldst thou not drive him forth, or slay him? What was the reason that he fled to thy house rather than to another man's? What cause had he to think himself more sure in thy weak cottage, then in a strong castle? Why dost thou esteem thy house better than the Commonwealths benefit? Must you that neither killed the Tyrant, nor yet revealed nor brought him forth that he might be slain, be partner of the reward? I affirm, and do verily suppose that thou bewailest his death, and it is very likely that either thou wast his friend or his servant: at the least thou canst not deny but that thou wast his host, yea, and I assuredly believe that thou didst watch of purpose to save him from peril: a man might easily accuse thee to be one of his confederates, and that thou didst offer him thy house, seeing that therein he thought himself more sure then in any other house beside. It were far better that one hundred houses much fairer than thine should be utterly lost then so vild a Tyrant as he should be yet living. Nay it were better to see a city quite razed down to the earth, than the Citizens should be continually spoiled by tyrannous cruelty, without all hope of amendment. Seeing then that for the common good so great losses are so slightly regarded, there is no reason that thy petty loss should be in any sort recompensed, especially because thou canst not say that thy hurt came by me, but by the Tyrant, and no way better canst thou excuse thy fault, then in accusing thine own hard fortune, which was the only cause of thy harm, by bringing the tyrant unto thy house.  

The Answer.  
HE which hath all the profit and honour, ought likewise to be partaker of the hurt: as I do not unjustly reprove thee, for the wrong which thou hast done me, so also dare I avouch, that thou hast not killed the Tyrant, seeing thou didst neither see him, nor once touch him, but my house was it that slew him, therefore it is not against reason, if for the loss thereof, I do at the least demand some part of the reward. The tyrant did not make any special choice of my house, much less was it offered or prepared for him, but as he could, he entered therein, because I was not at home to hinder him; likewise thou mightedst as well have follow- him in and killed him, but thy heart served thee not, and therefore thou didst rather choose to fire my house, than otherwise to slay him, and in danger thyself to be hurt: thou than hast the reward, but deservedst it not, and yet thou wouldst have me lose my house, which was his overthrow. Who can tell but that he might well have escaped if therein he had not entered; If then my house did keep him, and receive the fire that burned him, why ought it not as I have said, be likewise partaker of the reward?    

Declamation. 70.  
Of the grandfather that did secretly steal away his deceased daughter's child, for fear lest it should be poisoned by the stepmother, as two other before had been, whereupon the said child's father accused his father in law of violence.  
IT happened that a man had three children, whereof two died, not without suspicion that the stepmother had been the cause of their death. The father of the said children's mother did secretly steal away the third child, lest it might come to the like end as the rest did. Neither had the said grandfather visited the other children during their sickness, because he could not be suffered to come in, but was kept out of doors. The father caused his child to be cried, the grandfather said that he had him, whereupon the father accused the grandfather of violence, saying that he had stolen his child; the good old man made his excuse, saying:  
SEeing that this is all the sons that my daughter hath alive, suffer me to bring him up. What dost thou fear? That I will not let thee enter in when thou comest to visit him, as I was served at thy house? thou art deceived, I am not so ingrateful: fond foolish man as thou art, thou seekest not those two children which thou hast lost, nor once hearkenest after them which have been wilfully made away, but seekest him that is not lost, that he might likewise be lost as the rest were. Thou askest one of me whose life I will charily protect, and I do require two of thee whom thou hast carelessly suffered to perish. Why is not a grandfather better to be trusted then a stepmother? I came to visit my little nephews being sick, yet might not see them; that was violence, and not this which I have done? For therein hath neither been used weapons, combat, resistance, nor force, but such as was too friendly. Let all the assistance be judge of this controversy which is between a young man and an old. Thou sayest that I have stolen thy son, I answer that I do keep my daughter's son, thou sayest that I have taken him away from thee, and I deny it; but true it is that when he came unto me, I would not drive him away from me, and I am the cause that he is yet living. So do the Physicians and chirurgeons oftentimes bind us, and whether we will or no apply such medicines as are most needful for the recurring of our maladies. That which I have done is no stranger's deed: Nature hath her right, & this difference is there betwixt the father and the grandfather, that it is lawful for the grandfather to preserve his children in safety, but not for the father to suffer his to be slain. Whence proceedeth this thy overlate pity, to begin to seek thy lost sons of this which is here in safety? Seest thou not that all those that favour the child, do desire that thou mightest not find him?  

The Answer.  
HE hath not taken away the child to keep him, or for any fear he had of his safety, but only to slander my wife with sorcery, and to make me suspected to be thereunto consenting. What have I to do with this man, O you judges, who while his daughter lived, did never bear me any love, and now after her decease doth hate me deadly? and having scantly visited my children when they were sound, he came crying out and lamenting during their sickness, prophesying that which hath since happened, and would but have increased their grief to have heard it. He was kept forth, because his coming was well known to be more hurtful to all, then helpful to any, and that he should neither by his needless exclamations shorten the lives of the poor infants, nor steal this other child, which now appeareth was his only intent.    

Declamation. 71.  
Of him that being accused for intending his father's death, is thereupon renounced of him, although that in open judgement he was clearly acquitted by equal sentence.  
YOu must consider that in times past, when in judgement there were as many voices on the one side as on the other, in any criminal cause, the party accused was acquitted, because that justice ought to regard clemency more than cruelty. Whereupon it happened that a father accused his son of parricide, saying that he intended to murder him: wherefore he being imprisoned, and the informations made on either side, the proof was found so uncertain, that the party accused had as many voices in judgement on his side as the accuser, whereby the accused is acquitted. Notwithstanding the father being displeased, forsaketh and disheriteth his son, though he were acquitted by justice, saying:  
My request is now less than it was, for I do not desire to be revenged of thee, but only that I may be rid of him that would have slain me, I do no more accuse him, but shun him. Do you think that he will spare me being his foe, that would not spare me being his father? No surely, For because he would no difference between my testament and my death. He is not acquitted of his offence, but only freed of his punishment, because the sentences were alike. To prove him innocent he ought to have had many voices, but to condemn him, there needed no more than one. The judges have not found him faultless, but only spared the punishing of his fault: wonderful is the mercy of the law of this country, seeing that the equality of voices may acquit malefactors. Thou mayest then thank the law, not thine innocency, for thine escape. Thou sayest, I am acquitted, and therefore you can neither account me nor call me a parricide. I allow it so to be, neither will I disherit thee therefore, but for thy other vices, which are the cause that there are as many that believe thou wouldst have murdered me as there be that do stand in doubt thereof. But who knoweth not that it is a grief for a father to accuse his son, & to bring him in danger of death, although it be his desert? What is he then that would be so cruel to accuse him wrongfully? I take God to witness that as I am very glad because thou hast escaped punishment, so likewise would I take away all occasion, to accuse thee any more; and in putting thee away, I would take all occasion from thee to murder thy father.  

The sons Answer.  
AS there needeth but one voice to condemn me, which God hath withheld to defend mine innocency, so is my joy exceeding great in that I am freed from crime and disgrace, as well as from punishment; and a very likely matter is it, that some of the Counsel (believing it to be impossible that a father would ever accuse his son wrongfully) have been on your side, but the other, s who considering all men be subject to passion, and that many fathers do imagine that the lives and deaths of their sons ought to be doomed by them and at their choice only; have equally taken my part, especially because there was no proof or witness against me. And notwithstanding you disherit me, because I should always be secretly suspected of infamy, whereby it appeareth that your meaning was never good towards me, or at the least it is corrupted by such as pretend to be your heirs, so that although I am now oppressed by your authority, I hope that by my patience all men shall know, and yourself will confess, what a son I both have been, am, and ever shall be; and it may be that time may cause you change your evil opinion (if God so please) who never forsaketh the innocent.    

Declamation. 72.  
Of the son who striving against his father, obtained the dignity of Emperor, afterwards being taken in the wars and crucified, his father is accused to have betrayed him.  
IT is to be considered, that amongst our ancestors the dignity of Emperor was no other than that which we at this day do call General of an army, or Commonwealth, the which dignity was once demanded by an ancient and valiant man; But his son resisted him in such sort as he obtained the place for himself, and as the Proverb saith, Mowed the grass under his father's feet: Nevertheless they went to the wars together, where it chanced the Emperor to be taken by the enemies. Whereupon the Commonwealth sent forty Ambassadors to redeem him, upon any condition whatsoever. These Ambassadors met the Emperor's father, who told them, that he had brought gold to save his sons life, but it was too late, because he was crucified before he came. The Ambassadors notwithstanding passed on further, they found their Emperor according to his report crucified, yet not so thoroughly dead, but that he said thus unto them, Beware of Treason: Who at their return, upon these words of the son, accused his father to have betrayed him, saying:  
Our Emperor hath suffered a shameful death, and the traitor hath received money for the reward of his Treason? We have seen this same man more sad to see his son pronounced Emperor, then sorry to behold him taken of his enemies. How was it possible that thou couldst return alone, being old and overladen with money, seeing they did take the Emperor? Thou hast received more money than thou couldst well hide: but that is no great wonder, seeing that in one person thou hast sold both a son and an Emperor together; Who said unto us, Beware of Treason, but alas he said it too late. Truly if the enemies had not given thee this gold, they would have taken it from thee as well as from others. This sentence of the Emperor (being ready to die) was short, and even for shame very hardly uttered, seeing that thereby he accused his father. Why didst thou escape leaving thy son behind thee, who was borne to be an Emperor? Surely for no other cause but that he hindered thee from being one. His proceeding against his father by lot and elective voices was done to no other end, but only thereby modestly to show that from henceforth he would neither trust thee with the government of the Commonwealth, neither yet ought the same trust thee to govern it. Our Ambassadors carried gold thither to redeem our Emperor, and his father brought gold hither which he received for selling him unto the enemies. How happeneth it that thou art not dead, or at the least without motion, and as it were crucified with thy son? why didst thou return so speedily, seeing he was alive and did yet speak? Certainly his speech bewrayed the Treason, but his silence endeavouring to conceal the same, did better decipher the Traitor, that would not once stay the coming of the Ambassadors, nor yet return with them again. This good Emperor although he were crucified, yet left not to be careful for the Commonwealth. And therefore he said take you heed of Treason: Behold how he could not conceal the Treason; but like a child he would not name the traitor. Thou wilt say that compassion urged thee to departed so quickly. We would know, seeing thou couldst not have him alive, why thou didst not at the least redeem him when he was dead? For never was any enemy so cruel but that he would be moved with a father's tears, and so great a sum of gold together. This word, Take heed of Treason, signifieth, beware lest any without the privity of your towneguards do come forth of your city, or without the knowledge of the Commonwealth do go unto the enemy, or lest any one do return from the General of the enemies laden with gold: Nothing of this wanteth, in all men's judgement thou hast done all this, thou goest forth of the city, thou hast been in the enemy's camp, thou art returned thence laden with gold, the Emperor warned us of Treason, the Ambassadors have disclosed the traitor, all doubt is taken away, consider only (O judges) who did speak, who now speaketh, and who speaketh not.  

The father's Answer.  
I Did demand the Empire to save my son from the danger whereinto himself hath fallen, I know not whether there be any Treason, but you may think that if I were culpable therein, my son would have as little respect to accuse me, as he had to strive with me for the Empire. I did carry money thither, which I have brought back again, for seeing my son taken, I took all the gold which of long time I had hidden in my Nay who will doubt that she hath not committed this fact wherewith she is suspected, seeing that she cannot deny that fault which one would never have charged her withal. You see worthy judges that her sin, her conscience, and her own mouth bear witness against her, pity then this poor dead body burst and overflowing with poison, behold the bride, bed, and feast, turned into tears and funerals, take compassion of him who above all others is a miserable father, and a most unfortunate husband.   

The wives Answer.  
YOu charge me with two great crimes without any likelihood of truth, that is to say, with adultery, and poisoning; of the one there is neither proof nor witness, of the other there is a tormented slave witness, who not only to escape from tortures, but also to be revenged of the stripes which heretofore she hath received, accuseth her mistress: but who is so ignorant, that knoweth not that such vild wretches as she do seek for nothing else but mischief, or at the least for alteration or change, and especially when the husband and the wife are at variance, because that for the most part all the anger lighteth upon their shoulders therefore they seek to mitigate their own disgrace by another's discredit: likewise your sickleness, evermore ready to believe false reports, and not my faults, doth induce you to accuse me falsely. The malice which this slave did bear unto my daughter, persuadeth me that she hath poisoned her, because she would not behold her marriage, for fear of falling forth of my hands into hers, that was younger, & therefore more rigorous, as being less subject to reason: O what a goodly man is this, who doth give more credit to a tortured slaves words, then unto the long experience of the integrity of his wife: you do yourself confess that you would never have thought that in seeking for the murderer of your daughter you should have found out your wives adultery; it is then a sign that I never heretofore gave you any occasion to suspect me for a lascivious woman: what moveth you then to believe it now? A wicked and disloyal bond woman. Who provoked you to suspect me for poisoning your daughter? One word spoken by me in my anger: Do you not know that they which are justly angry or grieved do speak that which they never think? Think you that the mother hath not a just cause to be angry, when she seethe that her daughter shall be married without her consent? Seeing the mother and not the father suffered all the pain in bearing her, & that enforceth her also to love her more tenderly. Since I could not abide to see her badly married, could I be so hard hearted as to cause her to be murdered? Alas the fear that I had of her death, made me to divine her destruction. In like sort it is evident that those which are overcharged either with anger or fear, do oftentimes unadvisedly foretell such mischief as shortly after falleth out but too true: even so hath it happened unto me, being overburdened both with the one and the other accident; consider O you judges, how mad this man is, who unto his daughter's death would add his innocent wives decay, grounding his opinion therein, upon such a word, as any one that desired to kill another would never utter. Lastly I protest that he wrongfully seeketh my discredit, & therefore I request that he may make me amends for my disgrace.    

Declamation. 74.  
Of Romulus who caused his brother Remus to be beheaded.  
Romulus' and Remus being both brethren and twins, were the founders of Rome, and the first Kings thereof, nevertheless they were ruled by the advice of the Senate, who had established a law, that he which went forth of the city without leave of the kings or the licence of the Senate, should be guilty of Treason and be forthwith beheaded: Upon this decree they began to build the walls of their city. Where the two Kings being one day both together, and Romulus praising the diligence of the workmen, saying that they had in a short time raised the walls so high, as they might be well termed defensible. Remus to show the agility of his person, or it may be to contrary his brother's speeches, leapt at one jump over the wall forth of the city: whereupon Romulus being greatly displeased, and exceeding angry, or rather because love and rule can never abide any companion, so it may be he having long before sought for some occasion, caused his brother to be suddenly taken, and affirming that he was gone forth of the city without leave, he did by the law condemn him, and made him to be presently beheaded: Wherewithal the Senate being displeased, accused Romulus for killing not only his brother, but also their King, And thus they say:  
WHat good luck or happiness may we hope to reap of our Commonwealth or city, seeing that in the beginning thereof, not only one twin brother hath presumed to kill the other, but also the King hath murdered the King. If one hand should cut off the other, one foot tread upon the other, one eye darken the other, and finally if all the members would seek to hinder each other, what benefit or help may be hoped for of the body? As the man which hath but one eye is always in danger to be stark blind, or as he which hath but one hand, the least hurt which the other hand receiveth maketh the man altogether impotent, even so we thought ourselves happy to be free from the like danger having two kings, to the end that if the one were sick, the other might govern and aid the Commonwealth; those dangers which the one might incur for want of foresight, the other might prevent by his forecast, the one being abroad, the other was in the city, and being not only brethren but twins, we hoped that they should be invincible, but alas the one hath overthrown the other. What punishment then doth not he deserve, which hath deprived the Commonwealth of so great a hope? Who knoweth not that kings are the true guides of the people, and how good or bad soever they be, the most part will follow their example? Unhappy then are those Commonwealths where the kings are wicked, and especially when their chiefest fault is cruelty, which in them is most odious: therefore hath nature framed the drone being king of the bees without a sting, or at the least if he have one, he useth it not: if cruelty then be so unseemly for kings, how much more is it for such as are the first kings, seeing that they do instruct and embolden all their successors to follow their steps; for man's frailty is more prone to follow the bad then the good: do we not know that sharp laws are made not to destroy Citizens, much less Kings, but only to bridle the vicious, and by keeping them in awe to assure the virtuous; the text of the law is strict, but the gloze is ample, & aught always to tend rather unto clemency then cruelty. What would you say if a man (overcome with a jealous care of his country) should go forth of the city without leave to do some exploit for the benefit thereof; Ought he to die? Are not the laws made for the profit and safety of the Commonwealth? Let us consider to what end the King leapt over, was it to go seek the enemies? No, but rather thereby secretly to show, that as he could leap forth of the city at one jump, so might the enemies as easily pass our such low walls; wherefore as he would neither flatter the workmen, so without gaining their ill will, he would provoke them to be more diligent in their labour, and for the same purpose he endeavoured to please both them & also the assistants in showing the agility of his body: O how worthy of commendation is that man which joineth profit with pleasure, as he did! but we may say that he in steed of receiving honour by the people for his reward, obtained cruel death at his brother's hands for his recompense. Seeing the law was by the Senate invented, why were not they acquainted with his execution; that so his integrity might have been made manifest? For that which a king doth cannot be said to be done without leave, so that the people be not hurt thereby: for in every lawful act he may take leave by his own authority, wherefore you have no other excuse, but that the only ambition to reign alone, incited you to kill your brother, murder our King, & hurt the Commonwealth, whereby it appeareth that the greedy desire to rule is void of all pity or remorse: if we say that he which parteth from his friend parteth from himself, what may be said of him that hath by death sundered his brother from him? Which at one instant was conceived with him, who hath remained in his mother's womb until his procreation with him, who was cast forth unto the beasts, & fostered up together with him, who hath helped him to build this city, to appoint the Senate, and was created King with him; what judge will be then so ignorant which will not say that you ought to die with him? And that you do wrongfully usurp the time wherein you do live longer than he. Give rightful doom then, O you Senators, to the end that he which hath killed his brother without your consent, may no longer tyrannize over the Commonwealth.  

The Answer of Romulus.  
ALL happiness ought to be hoped for (grave fathers) when in the Commonwealth the laws are not only good, but when they be observed and kept, and by the punishment of a great one, all the rest are threatened if they miss in their duty: mine integrity is sufficiently declared in submitting me unto the laws, yea, even in the not sparing of mine own brother, as in like sort I would not exempt mine own person for the observation thereof. If Minus, Radamanthus, and Aeacus had not been just and somewhat severe in the performance of their laws, they should not have obtained that immortal renown which they now have, neither should be held as judges of the infernal mansions: like as it is many times not only lawful, but necessary for one hand to chop of another to preserve the rest of executing one of the enemies thereof, not without your judgement, but by you both condemned and adjudged, ever since the law was by you made & allowed; for you have added no exception thereunto. Consider then most grave Senators, and you courageous people, that if I receive any hurt, it is for doing good, beseeching you also to believe, that what mischief or good soever shall happen unto me, cannot happen unto any that is more affected unto you, or more careful of your welfare then I.  
Romulus' escaped at this time, and reigned a long time after very cruelly, but finally at a sacrifice which was made out of the city, there fell great store of rain, with horrible thunder and lightning, whereupon the Senators took occasion to kill Romulus, and afterwards having hewed him in an hundred pieces, every man carried away a piece, and made the people believe that he was taken up into heaven alive, whilst they were offering their sacrifice, and he was placed in the temple amongst the gods, and named Quirinus.    

Declamation. 75.  
Of him who being found with a poisoned potion, is thereby accused to have gone about to poison his father.  
A Certain rich man had one only son, who was of such bad behaviour, that he renounced him, and received him again three times. Lastly, he found him at unawares in a very secret place of his house, where he was brewing a poisoned potion, the father asked him what drink that was, he not being able to deny it, said that it was poison, the which he thought to drink because he was weary of his life: afterwards he threw the poison on the ground, the father knowing his malice long before, accused him that he had prepared that poison for him, saying:  
IT is far unlike that he which in three times being forsaken did never make any show to be desirous of death, would now poison himself being both in the good favour, and in the house of his aged father, whose inheritance he did daily expect; but it is rather most certain, that he being unwilling to stay for it until my death, was desirous to attempt the abridging of my days. What likelihood was there that he would willingly die, who being suddenly taken, threw the poison down for fear lest he should have been compelled to drink it? Why should you think that such a one is weary of his life that doth now defend himself as much as he can, because he would not be condemned to death? Those which desire to die, do go unto the wars or travel by sea, and so die with honour: in denying thy crime thou proouest thyself culpable; canst thou deny that thou didst seek, find, buy, and bring the poison into thy father's house? Unto whom thou showing thyself an enemy more than a thousand times, hast compelled him against his will to reject and disherit thee three times, and thinking always by my exceeding mildness to overcome thine extreme maliciousness, I have thrice returned to receive thee with more than a fatherly kindness, but I perceive that all the good which is done unto the wicked, is not only lost, but also increaseth their wickedness: for thou canst  
THe law is, that whosoever killeth any man, should not be buried at all. Whereupon a certain rich man of a good stock happened by some occasion to kill himself. So that thereby the Magistrate accounted him for a murderer, and therefore would not suffer him to be buried: but the kinared of the dead man stood against him therein, and said:  
IF this poor man had slain any one, your reason were of some worth, for it might have been supposed that malice, hatred, envy, or some other vice, had procured him to commit manslaughter, but alas he hath slain himself being overcome with misery, or else because he had lost his wits: I know not whether of these two accidents were the cause of his fall, yet am I sure that they are not to be imputed unto his fault, but he is more worthy to be pitied then to be punished. What greater cruelty can there be in the world, than not only to punish a dead man, but such a one as died miserably? We cannot but suspect that he perceiving the Magistrate did wrongfully hate him, hath therefore shortened his own days: for if you did not bear him some ill will what should move you to go about to deprive him of that which in the end time will grant unto him? For even those which are hanged do at one time or other not remain unburied; wherefore Diogenes said well unto his disciples, that demanded of him where he would be buried: lay me (said he) upon the earth, for the same itself will in time bury me: this your rigour then is more prejudicial unto us that live, then unto the dead man: if the worst happen, what can you say of him? Or wherewith are you able to accuse him, save only that his great misfortune made him to imagine that he could no way end his misery but by death? But alas he was deceived, for although he be dead, yet doth mishap follow him, so as he cannot by his sepulchre hide his shame; whereby it appeareth, that misfortune doth sooner beat down the wretched than it doth the wicked. Surely considering that which is denied unto him, I cannot blame him for being weary of his life; in his death he hath imitated Cato, why then ought this man to be unburied more than he? In your judgement then do you think that Curtius should have remained without a sepulchre, if in his very death he had not found the same, casting himself while he was yet alive into the burning gulf? Who is more miserable than he that whilst he liveth is weary of his life? And who is more unhappy than he that is dead, and wanteth a sepulchre? Is it to be wondered at if this man were willing to die, seeing that for all he shuneth it, mischief pursueth him? Nature affordeth a sepulchre unto all men, yea the sea casteth the dead upon the land to be buried, those which are hanged in chains, do by little and little slide down into their graves, for in the end they become earth; they which are burned, the self-same fire that consumeth their body, doth bury their bones converting them into ashes; others are entombed in the bellies of fishes, and of other land beasts. As it is the office of Magistrates to persecute murderers, so likewise ought they to pity the murdered. If you say that he which killeth himself is a murderer, you must yet consider that he hath wronged none but himself: it may be that he did procure his own death for fear lest he should be constrained to wrong some other, what thing then can example others might be warned to be more careful of their kindred. This law was invented but only to terrify those who neither feared death nor damnation. Assure you that he would never have died in that sort, unless he had committed some heinous offence, for there is no sin so great but that he which dare kill himself will be bold to commit.   

Declamation. 77.  
Of the servant of Lucullus who thinking to give his master a drink to make him to love him, caused him to become a fool.  
LVcullus was a Roman Senator, very rich and wealthy in goods, gotten by the wars, who both lived most deliciously, and also spent more largely than any other Roman: but most of all he greatly loved learned men, and rewarded them very liberally. Whereupon it chanced that one of his household servants was very desirous to work some means that he might likewise choose him to love him, and the better to effect the same, he prepared a certain love drink, and made his master to drink thereof (for that which fools cannot attain unto by virtue, they think to accomplish by villainy) but as from folly there never cometh any thing but mischief, so happened it by this foolish servant, for in stead of making himself to be beloved, he troubled his master's senses, because he knew not how to mingle his drink aright. Wherefore the kindred of Lucullus brought him into judgement, and accused him for poisoning his master, whereunto the servant replied thus:  
TRue it is that I gave him a love drink, but not producing such an accident as hath since unto him happened; and that servant is in no sort faulty, which as much as in him lieth, seeketh to procure his masters favour, provided that it be not to his hurt: the drink which I have given him, hath been tried by many, and may yet be proved by more, I meant neither to hurt my masters body, nor to trouble his mind, seeing that I never hoped for any good in the world but from him; but those which gape for his lands after his death, or that desire to have the managing of his goods during his life, have taken occasion by this my potion, to give him some other drink that unto his senses hath been more pernicious, that thereby they might both defraud me of my hoped good intention, & also accomplish their wicked expectation: who hath ever heard that to love one's master well, and to desire to be beloved of him, should be an offence? and so much the rather, was my meaning lawful, because I neither have loved him, nor desired his love for any covetousness, but to gain this only good, always to do unto him most faithful, most humble, and acceptable service; but as there is no word well spoken which is badly construed, so there is nothing well done if it be taken in ill part, or sinisterly wrested, which is so much the sooner done, because the most part of men do not judge according to the meaning, but according to the issue of our actions, although he which hath done them be in no sort faulty. But I beseech you worthy judges to consider what reason there is to accuse him for a malefactor who hath given the love drink, and not once to seek out or to inquire after him that hath given the noisome and hurtful drink Think you if I mous as Lucullus was? What theft can be more manifest than in desiring to usurp a love so worthy, being thyself in all points so worthless? We do in deed confess that the servant is permitted to love his master, and by his good service to win his masters love, but it is not lawful to enforce the love of any man, how much less than is it for a servant to constrain his master? So that as well the intention as the issue of thy deed, appeareth to be damnable; and there is no need to inquire who gave the pestilent potion, seeing thou didst it thine own self, and that thou canst not deny the same: moreover, that which thou confessest to have done is no sign that thou didst love thy master very well, but rather that thou didst love thyself too much, for those which do love entirely do seek all the means they can to please those whom they love, but not to force or constrain them to any thing against their liking, whereby it may be proved that thou only didst mischief Lucullus, in going about to take from him his liberty, having thereby deprived him of his senses. And there is not any that pretended any profit by his hurt but only thou, seeing that all the wealth which Lucullus had, was ours and his friends more than his own, for he was never borne but for the profit of the Commonwealth, and to pleasure his friends. Therefore we do also require no other thing, but that the innocent may be acquitted, & the guilty not only sought out (for he is found in thee) but also punished, as well to give an example unto all other servants not to enterprise any thing against their masters, as to revenge the Commonwealth, and Lucullus himself for this injury.   

Declamation. 78.  
Of a woman who slew her daughter, that had through childishness killed her little brother.  
THe law appointeth, that every woman which killeth her child should be burned. Whereupon it chanced in Orleans, that a poor woman which got her living partly by washing of bucks, and sometime with carrying of faggots about the city to sell, had one daughter about the age of four years, and a son about one year old, with the which children she was left a widow by her husband. So that she oftentimes being forced to shift the little child, she said unto him as the most part of mothers and nurses use to say, that if he pissed his clothes any more, she would cut off his prick; the which the little girl hearing many times, she forgot it not: but one day when her mother was gone unto the wood, she began to unswaddle her brother, and seeing that he had pissed his clothes, she took a knife and cut off his yard, wherewith he lost so much blood that he died, afterwards she told her mother at her return home what she had done, who seeing her child dead, she was so surprised with anger, that she took up a little stool, and struck so great a blow therewithal upon the girls head, that she presently died. For the which she was carried to prison, & her husband's brother suing her to death, accused her saying:  
THis woman hath both slain her daughter, and in like sort was the cause of her sons death, not only in that she left it to the keeping and discretion of a little girl, but also because she had oftentimes spoken fond, and threatened the child foolishly: did she not know that whatsoever was ill to be done, was not good to be spoken, upon what occasion or intent soever it be? And that as every word that is spoken, is easily imprinted in the young and tender hearts of little children, so will they like apes imitate all that they see, and as children, do whatsoever they hear spoken: why then did she say before this child any thing which should not be done? And chief a matter so dangerous and so unfitting? Did she not know that children (as being human creatures, and subject naturally unto vices) do keep and remember the bad sooner than the good? And especially the females, as being more vicious than the males. Some may say that it was a mischief, which she nor any other would ever have thought upon: but I answer that they ought to be cut of which are the cause of such misfortunes, to the end that they may no more commit the like mischiefs, or at the least by their occasion there do not happen some other greater mischances. If she have lived so badly, that she had no neighbour or friend so favourable unto her with whom she might have left her little son in her absence, she is not worthy to live any longer; and if she had any unto whom she might have recommended the same, she is likewise worthy of death for not doing the same. Of what thing ought a mother to be more tender and chary, then of her child? Why then could she suffer the one to die by her negligence, and heaping mischief upon mischief, murder the other by her malice? What Tiger, Wolf, or other wild beast, though never so cruel, which will not only be careful of her young ones, but also will even unto the death defend them from those that seek to hurt or harm them in any sort? How much less than will they themselves be so cruel as to kill them? Wherefore must I be the only speaker in this case, when as with just grief I can hardly speak any more? If no punishment shall be used when women (who ought to be true examples or perfect patterns of kindness and pity) are more cruel than savage beasts, I know not what I should say? Saving only that they are happy which either lived before us, or that shall be born after us, without beholding this our most unhappy age, if such a woman may be suffered to live any longer therein, who after she hath been the cause of her sons death, hath yet further been the author of her daughter's destruction.  

The Answer of a friend for the woman.  
WHerefore do you procure the death of such a one who desireth nothing so much, as to die? Do you think that this poor woman is not sufficiently afflicted, but that you must further seek to aggravate her sorrow? Alas we may by her example very well perceive, that a mischief never cometh alone, seeing that first we have ever known her to be poor, next she hath lost her husband, the only stay of her poor life, than her son, and afterwards her daughter, and that which is worst, she is not only a prisoner in danger to lose her life, but also he which ought to relieve her and procure her delivery, seeketh her destruction. Surely the least of so many miseries wherein she is on all sides compassed, is sufficient enough to make her worthy of compassion, and free her from punishment. Whereof do you accuse her? Do you not know that it is not in our power to bridle the first motions of a just anger? Know you not that the grief which she suffereth because she hath killed her daughter, exceedeth all the tortures that may be invented to torment her? For more harm doth a mischief that tormenteth the heart, than all the tortures which may wound the body are able to hurt. Whereas you accuse her of folly, the folly is your own when you would find in a silly woman, that which may hardly be found in those that govern monarchies or Provinces Do you not know that there is no virtue which is not by poverty neglected? And that necessity hath no law? Wherein then hath a poor woman offended, who having no other means, did leave her children at home, whilst she went abroad to get her living? You speak of friends, and neighbours; it is too manifest that charity is so exceeding cold, that if one do but twice desire a favour or pleasure at any man's hands, he is strait said to be importunate: moreover, it is to be considered, that to take those out of the world who have been the cause of some great mischance is not the next way to redress the mischief, but rather to increase it. Concerning the natural malice of little children, being conceived in sin, and that they retain, or imitate the bad rather than the good, ask nature wherefore they are so? But you shall find that he which accuseth nature, condemneth himself, for we are all subject to her laws. If every thing should be taken at the worst, and according to your saying, the most part of men should deserve death, and you might be one of the same number? Where do you find that he or she is unworthy to live which hath not either a faithful friend, or a loving neighbour? Seeing such happiness is so rare, as all those which have written unto this present time, do not make mention of six pair of faithful friends? Amongst whom are Theseus and Pirithous, Achilles and Patrocles, Laelius and Scipio, Orestes and Pylades, & he must be a good friend with whom one would trust his child, and more than a good one, if he will ordinatily have the care and trouble to look unto it. How would you then find amongst poor women that which so seldom is found amongst so many famous men? It is very likely that this woman did not kill her daughter as being cruelly addicted to murder, but rather as being overcome with a just cause of anger. The comparison which you make in likening her unto a brute beast is very odious, seeing that she would not only have defended her children against all those that would hurt them, but also that the compassion ●●ich she had to see one of them dead, induced her to strike the other. In all ages there have been seen many shrewd turns and mischances, therefore the fault happened in this our age may be repaired, if the judges will be pleased to be as merciful as you would have them merciless, for by that means the offence of a woman shall be the cause that in after ages the mildness of our judges shall be remembered.    

Declamation. 79.  
Of a Turk who bought a child with a red head to make poison of him.  
A Poor woman having but one son which was of a red coloured hair, which the Frenchmen do in a mockery call the dissembling hair, put her said son to serve a merchant, who within a while carried the child with him into Turkey, who whilst he there remained, there came a Turkish Physician oftentimes unto the said merchant, to inquire whether he would sell the red boy? But the merchant always answered him that he would not, until that on a time the boy said unto him secretly: Master sell me well, and give the money unto my mother to relieve her poverty, and I will find the means to run away, and to escape from him well enough, so that I will return unto you or to my mother; the merchant agreed thereunto, and sold the boy for a certain sum of Ducats, hoping to see the boy again, but within a while after he was very much abashed when he could see him no more. Wherefore he demanded of the Turk where the boy was, and entreated him so earnestly that he might see him again, that the Turk having brought him into his house showed him only the boys head, and all the rest of his quarters boiling in a cauldron, wherewith the merchant was greatly amazed, but dissembling his sorrow as much as he could, asked the Turk what he would do with that child boiled, the Turk answered him that it was to make poison, and that he hoped to gain more than ten thousand ducats by him: the poor merchant being very sorrowful, brought the money home with him, and gave it unto the boys mother, telling her not without tears the whole truth of the matter, the mother refused the money, and required justice of him that had sold her son, accusing him to be the cause of his death, and these were her reasons:  
WHo is more miserable than I? Seeing by the fault of him, with whom I would have trusted mine own life, my son (being his servant) was even in one month sold as a slave, & then most cruelly slain: and why was he slain? Alas to be not only the instrument and cause of the death of many others, but it may be to serve for the ruin and destruction of all Christendom; since there needeth but a little poison to murder those that defend the same: I did lend thee my son to do thee all good and honest service, upon thy promise that thou wouldst use him as thine own; I do ask thee whether thou wouldst ever have sold thine own son upon any condition whatsoever? wouldst thou not have sent him to travel abroad, to see the world, and to learn virtuous qualities, that he might be a stay unto thy age, and a profitable member in the Commonwealth? I hoped to have had the like of my son, and the loss ought not to be esteemed any thing the less, because he was son unto a poor woman, for they when they once give their minds unto learning or any other good quality, do become more virtuous: as for example, Ag●thocles King of Scicilia, was not he the son of a potter? Viriat king of Portugal, Otto, and Tamberlane Emperors of the East, were all three shepherds: Arsaces' king of the Parthians would never bewray who were his Parents. Ptolomey the first of that name being king of Egypt, the son of an Esquire, Eumenes one of the successors of Alexander was the son of a wagonmaker, Dioclesian Emperor of Rome was the son of a Notary, Pertinax likewise an Emperor of Rome, his grandfather was a bondman; Valentinian, the son of a ropemaker; Proba the son of a gardener; Aemilius knew not from whence he came; Maximinus was the son of a Muletter, with an infinite number of others of far base parentage than was my son, that have been the honour of all their country. Alas must the love which I did bear unto my child be measured by thy covetousness? Dost thou not know that a Turk never buyeth a Christian for any good that he wisheth unto him? And if he did, oughtest thou to allow him to deceive his master, and to run away from him? Thou shouldest have chastened him for inventing such a villainy; for I did not give him unto thee to the end that thou shouldest consent unto his wicked counsel, but that he should be well counseled and instructed by thee: but I do very well perceive, that it is not said in vain, that covetousness is the root of all mischief. Cursed be the gold, I will have none of it, for I know well that they which will live according to the rule of nature, have no need thereof, and they which will live after their own mind, have never enough, of which number thou art one, and that hath caused thee to cast away my son so miserably, for the which I demand justice.  

The Merchant's Answer.  
WHy dost thou persecute me, O thou woman, for a mischance that displeaseth me no less than it doth thee? If it were otherwise, might not I have kept this gold and have made thee believe that thy son had been run away from me? Yea, and that he had rob me, or else that he had died by some other accident, then couldst thou well have endured thy sons loss, together with thy poor life; but indeed thou verifiest the old Proverb, which saith, That a woman is extreme in all things, and that likewise she commonly chooseth the worst: whereby I might have been better advised, when I told thee of this mishap, being therefore no less sorrowful than thyself, for to say the truth, it was a great lamentable mischance, and now I do very well know how unseemly it is for any man to say, I had not thought, because every wise man thinketh upon every thing before he do any thing: Notwithstanding, I dare affirm that few men would ever have supposed that of a child there might be poison made to kill men: and surely I doubt whether thou art to be blamed or no for bearing such a one: for such children are begotten by unlawful conjunction, when the woman is in her wicked disposition. Furthermore, if my son should have persuaded me to leave him with that Turk, I know not whether I should have done it yea or no. Lastly, I suffered him to do what he would, thinking it should have been for his profit and thine, our deeds ought to be measured by our good or bad meaning, and not according to the event thereof: and say not that a Turk doth never buy a Christian to do him any good, for many slaves do there become great lords, and governors of Provinces: thy son would not credit my counsel, and although I had not consented unto his request, yet would he have left me to accomplish it: the covetousness was in him, and not in me, hardly may he be either counseled or corrected that is naturally inclined to wickedness as he was, and I believe that he had that from thee, seeing that to the death of thy son thou wouldst add the destruction of the dearest friend that thou hast in the wortd, and who in stead of thy son and husband would be the stay of thine age, and always helpful unto thee. But it is truly said: women naturally can never forgive a fault, nor acknowledge any service or favour that is done unto them.    

Declamation 80.  
Of him that agreed to behead his father, after his father refused to do the like by him.  
IT chanced that a father & his son were both convinced of treason, for the which they were condemned to die, nevertheless as they were ready to be executed, the judges being inclined to mercy rather than rigour, were willing to save one of them, saying that the grief which he should have that might see his kinsman die, would serve for a sufficient punishment, and to increase the same, they feigned that the one of them should be the others executioner, & they put it unto their choice who should be the executioner, and who the party to be executed: wherefore either of them strived a great while who should be the party to be executed, but in the end the son agreed to the death of his father, and according to the decree would have beheaded him, the which the judges perceiving, they caused the execution to be stayed, and pardoned the father, and sent for the hangman to behead the son, but the father defended him, saying:  
YOu ought not, O you judges, to pronounce your sentences in manner of a mockery, or by the ambiguity or revocation of them to increase the affliction of the afflicted, under a colour of moderating justice with mercy: if mine offence be not worthy of death, why will you make me suffer many? That is to say, one in seeing the extremity of the choice whereunto you have put us, another in contemning my life and offering up my neck at nought to be cut of by my son, and the third in seeing him to be condemned for being willing to accomplish your sentence? If it be a cruel deed to see a son execute his father that thereby he might have his own life saved, a greater cruelty would it be for the father to kill the son? Wherefore O you judges you should not have given so cruel a sentence: but can you blame a child if to save the prime time of his youth, he do not spare the withered age of his father, whose years are not many, and they miserable? For to say the truth, age is an incurable malady; but although it were not, yet sure grief and despair would be my destruction: if you have any children, consider then what our misery is? And if you have none, learn of those which have them, what the affection of fathers towards their children is? And then may you know that the extremity of the choice which we have been put unto, without increasing our misery, is sufficient to make us seem more worthy of present pity than of further punishment. Not in vain did Lisander of Sparta say unto him that found him childishly playing with his children, I pray thee (quoth he) do not disclose this my folly at any time, unless it be when thou hast children as well as I: for that discreet parsonage did very well know, that those which have no children, do never know how great the father and children's love is one unto another, the which doth wax more fervent as our years and age increaseth: wherefore it is no great wonder if my son hath consented to do that which I could never agree unto, seeing that his years are all too young as yet to understand so well as I what true affection meaneth: therefore I cannot believe that he whom Manlius Torquatus caused to be beheaded (to manifest his care in observing military discipline) could assuredly be his own son, the which perchance himself did well understand, & for that cause he found occasion at one stroke to be both revenged of the mother, in grieving her with the slaughter of her son (the cause and witness of his sorrow) and also by the same means to gain an immortal memory: I say memory, because such kind of cruelty is not to be termed glory. But how many are there who for want of years and discretion have conspired their father's death, and yet have not been compelled thereunto as this my son was, but only either for the desire of rule or greediness of goods? notwithstanding there was never any father so cruel as to punish his son for all that, except Herod that abominable monster, more cruel than any brute beast; But David did not he weep for his son Absalon, by whom he had received so many detestable persecutions, and injuries? Must there then be a quarrel taken, because I have been more pitiful than my son? who nevertheless would not do any thing without my commandment, & by the duty which he ought unto me, which hath chiefly induced him heretofore to commit that offence for which we are both condemned. lastly, reason willeth that your last sentence be not revoked, for no sentence ought ever to be revoked to the hindrance or prejudice of such as are to suffer: if one of us must die, it is I that ought so to do, seeing that I was first born, and being the elder, I have offended through malice, but he through ignorance, I willingly, and he in obeying me; I then being the only cause that both he and I have offended, it is requisite that I only should die for both our misdeeds: and never imagine that my son doth for all that escape unpunished, for as all my misery shall in my death have an end, so shall his calamity in living together with his years daily more and more increase, as well in grieving that he hath offended the Commonwealth, as that he hath been constrained to kill his father by their commandment, who ought to abhor the only thought of so execrable a cruelty.  

The answer of the judges.  
Our sentence was not pronounced by way of mockery, neither was it revoked to increase your miseries, but only to know (seeing you are both twain worthy to die) whether of you is most unworthy to live: for mercy which assuageth justice, ought always to be extended towards him that is least culpable. Wherefore finding your son more faulty than you, we have appointed him to die, yet not by your hands, for we know that the same were rather cruelty than justice, but we have hereby made a certain trial whether there were any virtue remaining in him, when in consenting unto your death, he hath bewrayed his ungraciousness, so that except you be yet an enemy to your country, you ought not to bewail the death of a man so wicked, or a son so worthless; but we plainly perceive that every one favoureth such as himself is, and that you will never surcease to hate the Commonwealth: so that it will be no great loss although you should (as you say) die with grief; for such a loss shall be more profitable to all, then hurtful to any: likewise of two wicked men we had rather save him that by course of nature will die the soon, and which hath little time, and less strength to accomplish his wicked purpose. We have children, but if we did know that they would ever be like unto you or your son, we would presently do with them as we will with him, and as we ought to do with you; they are to be pitied which are poor and miserable, not such as are wicked and malefactors, for as to afflict the good it is an act of cruelty, so to punish the bad, is a deed of charity: we do not cause your son to die, for being willing to accomplish our sentence, as you say, but because he being already worthy of death, the same doth make him more worthy, and we do save you by our special grace, because you would not kill him, showing yourself at the least a better father, than he is a son: and the duty which he ought unto you can be no excuse for him, for it is very apparent that he would hardly ever have obeyed you, had you commanded him to do any good: true it is that never any sentence is to be revoked to the hindrance of the good, but as we have moderated the first to save the life of one of you, so is it lawful for us now to apply the other in such sort, that he may die which is most wicked. Also the choice which we do put you unto cannot be called cruelty, seeing that it was not to that end that it should be so effected, neither was the same any sudden invention of our own thoughts, but it is to be considered that the wickedness of malefactors causeth the judges to invent new & extraordinary punishments, thereby to repress vice the sooner. To conclude, if you think that we do you any wrong, you may appeal unto those who have as great authority over us as over you.    

Declamation. 81.  
Of a Chirurgeon who murdered a man to see the moving of a quick heart.  
THere was in Padua a most cunning Chirurgeon, excelling all others of his time, who having made wonderful experiences of his art (for no less is the desire of cunning, then is covetous of coin) had also a wonderful great desire to open a live man, that he might perfectly know the motion of the heart, whereupon he made divers and sundry requests unto the Senate of Venice, that they would grant unto him some condemned malefactor, to make therewith this his desired experience, but he could never obtain the same at their hands, for the Venetians are by nature not only pitiful, but also somewhat superstitious. But these refusals did but the more increase the longing of this Chirurgeon: for to say the truth, every haulty spirit are in that like unto women, who do for the most part covet after that which they are forbidden to touch. So that he being still in this raving or rather longing, there came unto his door a poor soldier, very well proportioned and of a sound body, coming newly from the wars, and demanded his alms of the Chirurgeon, who caused him to come in, and cherished him secretly some three days after his own fantasy, afterwards having brought him down into a cave, he caused him by certain fellows hired for that purpose, to be bound unto a post, and opening him alive, he saw that in him which he so greatly desired, but as no murder can ever remain undisclosed long, so it happened that one of his confederates was taken for some other crime, and being upon the rack, he amongst other matters, revealed the murder which he, his companions, and the Chirurgeon had committed whereupon they were all taken, and the Chirurgeon confessed the fact, saying:  
TRue it is most just judge, and you worthy Senators, that I have been the death of one man to save the lives of an infinite number of others, not only by the cures which I hope to perform during my life, but by that which I will leave behind me in writing after my death: wherefore it may be said that having made an experience so notable and profitable, I have done worthily, but having killed a guiltless man I have done wickedly. I confess it, and would confess to have offended more heinously, if I had not more than once entreated, that to prevent a further mischief, I might have been allowed to make this trial upon some condemned malefactor, the which I was never permitted to do: some one may answer, must you therefore kill an innocent? Or do that by your own authority, which a whole Senate would never allow? Do you think that your authority alone is greater, or your wisdom more than all theirs together? God forbidden worthy lords, that I should ever presume any such matter; but I dare & that truly affirm that it is lawful for chirurgeons to do many things which is not decent to be allowed by the Senators: nay, they would abhor to hear it but mentioned; what a thing were it if at all times when a man's leg or arm, or the breast of a woman must be cut off, to save the rest of the body, that first the Counsel should be moved, or leave requested of the Senate for the same, would it not be a horrible matter? And as at Rome heretofore the first Chirurgeon was stoned by the people; so would they now become very odious unto the Senators, being unskilful of the profit of that art: therefore all things which are odious, but necessary, aught to be done in the most secret manner that possibly they may be; let not this then be any further revealed, which for a good intent & upon a most just occasion I have done secretly: concerning the innocency of him upon whom this trial hath been made, there is no proof nor any certainty thereof, but rather many presumptions to the contrary: for first he had a bad countenance, he came from the wars which is a place whereunto one goeth to no other end but to kill, or to be killed, he left his captain in the midst of his wars, without either leave or passport from him, which is a manifest proof that he was attainted of some notable crime, or else is worthy so to be for flying from the field, or not performing such duties as soldier are sworn to observe; for none ought to bind himself unto any thing without doing his endeavour to discharge the same; He was poor and oppressed with hunger, wherefore I may say that his death hath saved their lives whom it may be he would have rob by the high ways: for commonly those which are idly brought up in the wars, do never desire to gain their living by an honest trade or exercise, so that in the end they become fit to furnish the gallows. If then his offences have induced me and moved my mind unto his prejudice alone, to act that which is for the commodity of many, every lover of arts, and well-willer of the Commonwealth, will not find this deed so strange as it seemeth in show to be unto the ignorant & vulgar sort, but they will rather judge it to be somewhat commendable. To conclude, most worthy judge, and you famous Senators, I trust so much in your wisdoms, as it will please you to consider that every bad act, which is not only grounded upon some just reason, but also which redoundeth to a benefit & profit no less wholesome than necessary for the whole Commonwealth, is turned into a good act, or at the least is sufficient to excuse the author thereof: and especially when the same happeneth not casually or by chance: but proceedeth of a good, free, and sincere intention as mine may be termed, and as all my actions have ever been known to be.  

The Answer of the Attorney General.  
THe accusation of your companions enforceth you to confess your fault, and your iniquity causeth you to allow the fact, which maketh your offence not only double, but also triple, in that you seem to prove by frivolous reasons, before so worthy an assembly, that you have not misdone; which is both absurd and false, for never can any bad act, be the beginning of any good deed: but I would know, who hath made you more able, or more bold, to desire to try that which so many excellent men in times past, would never attempt, because they would not do any thing contrary unto human pity, could not you comprehend that which you seek by consideration, as well as others have done before you? Trust me, in going about to show that you are more sufficient than all men, you therein do plainly set forth your ignorance, which can comprehend nothing without experience. It seemeth by your saying, that all the skill of your art consisteth in experience; if it be so, you ought to have in your body every disease or accident one by one, whereof you would cure others, or else you must believe that which other men have written thereof: the which you should also have done without making such a cruel experiment, the which (if you had been as well advised as you were curious) might have been done upon some beast whose entrails had not been much unlike unto a man's; but as those that have used to shed human blood, cannot refrain from the same when they would, so you being accustomed to cut off members before there be any great need, waxing every day more cruel than other, were desirous to come so near as the heart: Therefore he which said that Physicians are Alquimists of men's bodies, should likewise have said that chirurgeons desire nothing so much as wounds and sores. If the decrees do forbid to make an anothomie of a dead body, & the Senate would not grant unto you one that was condemned, was not that sufficient to make you know that you should offend God and his law in causing a man to die for your own pleasure? And it is not enough for you to have slaughtered him, but you must yet further go about to slander him; surely, it is an ancient custom of the wicked to blame the good, for you who are a notorious malefactor, would reproach him whom you neither knew nor ever frequented his company, except when you murdered him, under the colour of charity and devout hospitality. Were not you bound (he being in your house and protection) to defend him against all those that would in any sort hurt him, which is far from murdering him yourself? I know not whether the Romans did amiss in stoning Talister their first Chirurgeon: but I am sure that we had been better not to have given so much authority unto ours. The surmises which you allege against the dead, are neither credible nor of any worth, for few men had a worse countenance than Socrates, nevertheless there was hardly found a better man in all Greece or one more harmless than he: you say he came from the wars; It was a sign that he abhorred the cruelty thereof, and there is none but you that saith he was run away from thence without a passport; I would know if it were so, how he could pass so far as your door? You reprove him for his poverty, but where do you find that poverty is a vice? I say that when a soldier cometh poor from the wars, it is a sign that he hateth the thefts and robberies wherewith by supposition you would accuse the poor dead man: but who hath appointed you to punish another man's faults: and especially those which are unknown unto you? If as you say your spirit was moved to do the same, it behoveth to separate that spirit from the body, which is so ready to effect the evil desires thereof: Neither is that fit to be allowed which the people do dislike altogether, for it is the common opinion, that the people's voice proceedeth from God's voice. Moreover, if such faults should be borne withal, it is to be feared that the people should not (only) be scandalised thereby, but also they might easily imitate the same, for there is no offence so great that findeth not some show of a lawful excuse, when the judges are disposed to wink thereat: But why do I say (only) save only because vices are unpunished? Let us therefore do well, lest this Commonwealth which hath flourished twelve hundred years through the good justice observed therein, should decay if the same were now neglected, for the same corruption which is in a body without a soul, is in a Commonwealth without justice. Consider then you worthy judge and Senators, that never murderer had his will or intention, good, free, or sincere, as this fellow saith his is, for the actions are always witnesses of the intent and meaning of men.    

Declamation. 82.  
Of a rich man that compelled a poor man to give him his daughter in marriage.  
THe law appointeth, that every maiden that is taken by force, or she whom one hath had at his pleasure by any manner of compulsion or abuse, may either choose the death of him who hath forced, constrained, or abused her, or else he shall be bound to take her to wife without any portion at all to her marriage. Whereupon it happened that a rich man of Greece entreated a poor man of the same country three sundry times, to give him his daughter for wife, but the poor man would not, within a short time after as he went together with his daughter to go to some place by sea, the ship happened to wrack, so that the poor man and his daughter saved themselves in a little Island belonging to the said rich man, who at the same instant chanced to be there, wherefore this occasion fitting to his desire, he friendly entertained the old man, made him good cheer, and again requested him to bestow his daughter upon him, the poor man made him no answer at all but wept; the rich man finished the marriage with her the same evening: every one being returned into the city, the father would have carried his daughter before the Magistrate, but her husband would not consent that she should go thither. Whereupon the poor man said unto him:  
LEt my daughter come before the Magistrate, if thou be an honest man, for if she be thy wife, what needest thou to fear? But if thou hast constrained her, why wilt not thou submit thyself unto her choice, thy fear accuseth thee, and is a witness that thou didst take her against her will; thou art no honest man if thou fearest that she will choose thy death, for he which forceth a maid cannot die too soon; why do you doubt if I have given you my consent? If I have denied you, why should you have her? Having demanded her of me when I was at liberty three several times, I did every time deny thee: and the fourth time being in thy power, not daring to refuse thee with my tongue, I refused thee with mine eyes and my tears, seeing then that by two several means thou wert refused, and that no body agreed that thou shouldest have her, how canst thou deny that thou tookest her by force? Alas, I do less grieve at my loss by sea, than I am sorry for the other which I have suffered since my coming to shore, for between the time of my shipwreck, and the forced marriage of my daughter, there was not one night. What son in law would not tarry until his father in law had dried up his tears? But how should I trust thee with my daughter, seeing thou darest not trust me? Thy malice is an hindrance thereof, for thou knowest very well that thou art the cause of our shipwreck, having made a fire not in the usual port of thine Island, but in such a place where thou wert well assured the ship could not arrive without wracking, so as not in the sea but in the country we were cast away? And I was twice cast away by the loss of my daughter, even when I was wet, and being astonished with the sea, and giddy with the wind and waves, thou camest unto me to request my daughter: as a ship wracked man, and a captive I did my endeavour, refusing that by my tears, which being free I did with my tongue three times deny thee, thou rich lecher, but yet thou seeing us in such calamity, thoughtest once more to win us to thy lure. It must be known whether that may be called a marriage which is done in the nook of an island being almost desert, where none were present but a few people that escaped from shipwreck, all our tears were tokens that we desired no such thing. They are arguments of unwillingness and witnesses of the heart's sorrow, no man weary for that which he desireth, but tears are in steed of entreaties for those which are shamfaste, and are ashamed to entreat; Thou canst not then deny that thou tookest my daughter by force, and it is the more likely, because thou wilt not submit thyself to law, and stand to her choice whether she will have thee for her husband or no.  

The rich man's answer.  
THou hast nothing to say nor any thing to do with my wife, except it be to see her. Nevertheless, I refer it to her own choice whether she will go to the Magistrate yea or no: but I would not that it should be at thine instance nor when thou wouldst, for I do very well know that she was never content with those refusals that thou madest me, therefore can it not be said that I have taken her against her will, nor against thy liking, for by the laws silence is a consent; concerning thy tears, I took them for a good token, believing that they proceeded for joy, not only that thou hadst escaped drowning, but to see that in so great misery I did not yet disdain to be thy son in law, as also that thou wert joyful to behold my constancy in loving thy daughter. For tears are not as thou sayest always signs of sadness, but sometimes tokens of joy, and especially when they are accompanied with silence, for sorrow enforceth a man to speak, and joy provoketh silence. As for the fire which thou sayest I did make to cause the ship wherein thou wast to be cast away, there is none but thou that complaineth thereof, for every one knoweth that my shepherds made that fire for their commodity, without thinking to hurt any man thereby. And for the marriage it was solemnized as commodiously as the place could afford. And it is not to be wondered at, if one who hath long time loved most fervently, did take the fruition of his love as soon as possibly he might, for the nature of lovers is, to think every minute a month; and fearing to lose the good so much of them desired, they can hardly believe that which they both see and touch. I will willingly submit myself to the law, but I will not that thou shouldest have the credit to compel me in any sort. Thou hast no cause to complain of thy shipwreck, seeing that from the same two holy actions have proceeded, that is to say, hospitality, and marriage, I offered thee the one, and entreated thee for the other. Thou art deceived if thou thinkest that I will love thee or thy daughter any whit the more, my life having been once in your power, the love which I do bear unto her is great enough, without bringing me unto such an overgreat extremity, far better is a free and voluntary love, then is that which proceedeth from any bond; my affection cannot be increased, because it is already perfect. My marriage declareth that I neither ravished nor constrained thy daughter at all, unless it be because I married her without any substance at all, if thou art not content that I have so done, give me her portion and I will accept it. If thou hast no goods, use mine as the goods of thy daughter, and let us live in peace.    

Declamation. 83.  
Of a blind woman that would have detained her son from redeeming his father out of prison.  
THe law appointeth, that every child which was old enough to serve and relieve his father or mother, and would not endeavour himself so to do, aught to be imprisoned or kept in bonds as a bondslave. Whereupon it chanced that a man made a long voyage by sea, leaving his wife and son at home; being upon the sea, he fortuned to be taken by Pirates, so that he was constrained to write unto his wife and son, that they might find the means to ransom him out of captivity. The wife wept so much as she became blind therewith, the son would needs departed to redeem his father, but his mother would detain him, demanding that service at his hands whereunto the law did bind him, and would have caused him to be laid in bonds, because he would not tarry, the son pleaded against her thus:  
IT is sufficient that two remain in bondage without desiring that the third should likewise be laid in bonds, the prison detaineth my father in thraldom, and your bondage mother is your blindness. Wherefore will you heap misery upon calamity in bringing me also in captivity? what wrong do I unto you in leaving you a little while for so good an intent as to relieve my father? Will you have the world to doubt that you are not so loving a wife towards your husband as always hitherto they have esteemed you? Will you that for your sake a man may say that all women are in their extremities? Do you not know that virtue consisteth in a mean? Will you have me to forsake my father? do you not perceive that his captivity summoneth me to travel for his liberty? Do you not consider that the chiefest part belongeth to the father, and the second unto the mother? He is abroad, you are at home, he is in bondage, you are free, you are amongst pitiful Citizens, he in the hands of pitiless Pirates, his feet are fettered, but thanks to God yours are at liberty: true it is that you are blind but alas he is far more miserable than you, for your blindness hindereth you from beholding an infinite number of things which would vex you, but he continually seethe his enemies, vieweth his chains whips and bastinadoes which he often feeleth and hourly feareth, and looketh upon the oar and other instruments wherewith he is evermore tired. You say the voyage is too dangerous for me, how many are there, that to win the love of some gay lady, will not stick to adventure any danger whatsoever? Why then should I fear to deliver my father? Consider that such as hinder others from well doing, do amiss themselves, and that he which giveth not all the aid he can unto those that are afflicted may be well said to be the only cause of their affliction. Wherefore dear mother, I beseech you not to be one of that number, or if you will needs be, yet suffer me not so to be.  

The mother's Answer.  
IT is thou that desirest unto my husband's loss to add my sons lack, and so finally to procure my utter desolation, leaving me here alone blind and poor; If thy father being old & subtle, could not escape from being taken by Pirates? How wilt thou being young and simple, shun the like perils? Dost thou say that thou shalt leave me for a small time, when I know thou canst never return? If thy father had believed me, he should not now have been in that calamity wherein he remaineth, and into that which thou wouldst cast thyself, neither yet should I have been constrained to have brought that love in question which thou sayest thou bearest unto us both; in that which I require, there is no extremity at all, for being bound unto twain, he or she that is present, may command as being the nearest: thy death or thy loss will not any whit diminish, but rather double thy father's misery, when he shall know it, if he be not dead already, as I fear he is: For young men may die too soon, but old men cannot live any long time: if he were advertised of my blindness, I am sure he would command thee not to forsake me; how wouldst thou then have thy voyage to prosper when thou undertakest it contrary to thy fatherrs meaning, and against thy mother's mind? Where is thy true obedience? Is this the recompense for my bringing thee forth with so great pain? And for nursing and bringing thee up with such exceeding care? In serving me thou dost well, in leaving me thou dost ill: so that thou canst not say that I hinder thee from well doing. But I would rather persuade and compel thee thereunto if I could: likewise, I have as much need of help as thy father hath, who did himself command thee not to forsake me, when he departed from hence; and then being not blind, I had no such need of thee as now I have. Never imagine that God will ever favour thee if thou now forsakest me.    

Declamation. 84.  
Of a rich man who thinking to burn the tree of a poor man, did also burn his house.  
THe law appointeth, that whosoever harmeth another man unadvisedly, he must but only recompense the hurt that is done, but if any do a mischief of set purpose or maliciously, he must make satisfaction for the same fourfold. Whereupon it happened, that a rich man dwelled next house unto a poor man, that had in his small garden a great tree growing, which did take away a great part of the prospect from the rich man's house, who did oftentimes entreat the poor man to sell him the said tree, but he would in no sort consent thereunto, affirming that it ought to remain there in remembrance of his deceased father, who had himself planted the same. At the last, the rich man seeing that he could not prevail, did upon a night set the said tree a fire, which flamed out so vehemently, that therewithal he burned the poor man's house. For which the rich man offered to pay for the tree fourfold, but for the house he would pay no more than once. On the contrary the poor man would have him make a fourfold satisfaction both for the one and the other, saying:  
IF you had not maliciously set my tree on fire, my house had not been burned. But what likelihood or proof is there, that you meant not to burn my house with me and my family therein, as well as the tree, seeing that the one was so near adjoining to the other, and that you fired the same in the night season, yea, and that about the time of our first sleep, which is the deadest time of all, watching a fit season when as the wind blew directly toward my house that you might be able to save your own from harm? Where is justice? What is become of the laws, seeing that what could not be obtainted by entreaties, nor effected by threats, is attained by force unto the danger of the lives of a whole family? What do you call tyranny, but only when a man doth what he listeth, and without reason useth revenge, when no offence hath been offered? And when that which cannot be won with silver is wrought by fire? If laws take any place, there is no difference between the rich and the poor, and as well may the one as the other enjoy that which is his own: you have large possessions and houses in the country as well as in the city, between your buildings and round about them, you have meadows, woods, and rivers to delight you, and yet of all these nothing was more pleasant to you then my ruin, in causing me to lose my house; me I say, who only could pass no further than this tree: why shall I not say that thy voluptuousness and thy delicacy maketh thee like unto Nero, who delighted to see Rome a fire? Even so for thy pleasure thou hast in one hour burned all my patrimony, and movables, as thou wouldst in like sort have burned us, had we not escaped from the fire stark naked. You say that my tree kept the air from your house, I pray you sir did not your galleries and high walls do the like by mine and others men's? And your great store of servants do not they daily molest us, under the colour of your greatness? And the dung of so many horses as you keep doth not it infect our air think you? You deem that all these discommodities are nothing at all unto us, but yet one poor tree of mine seemed unto you a whole forest, my loss is inestimable, seeing that by the saying of my furious enemy, I have lost more than he was willing I should. My request is but reasonable, that either the fire may end with his house that kindled the same, or else that he may make me satisfaction according to the law.  

The rich man's Answer.  
I Did not burn thy tree through malice, but was constrained thereunto by necessity, for the same hindering the wholesome air that might breathe into my house, made it pestiferous: how many times have I entreated thee, saying; take what thou wilt of me, and let me at the least lop the branches of this tree, for they do not profit thee in any sort, but they annoy me greatly? Yet was it never possible for me to obtain so much favour at thy hands: to what end served those boughs, which did nothing at all shadow thine but my house? Many such like requests have I made unto thee, but it was in vain, because the desire that thou hadst to annoy my house, hindered thee from choosing that which was profitable both for thee & thine; for those boughs did already overpress part of my house, and thrust down the wall, and finally would at the length not only have shaken, but quite thrown down the same, for there is no violence so great as that which increaseth by little and little; but why was the law of fourfold restitution made, but only because the lawmakers did assuredly think, that there would be men as obstinate as thou, of whom it should be impossible to obtain any reasonable thing by courtesy? I caused the tree to be burned in the night, to avoid the sedition of the people, I did not think that the fire should have passed any further, but what can I do withal if misfortune (the just revenger of thy obstinacy) do pursue thee? It cannot be said that I use any tyranny, because I am ready to submit myself unto law. And the comparison which thou makest between the rich and the poor man is no less odious than absurd: for the difference consisteth in that the rich man is able to do more for the conservation of the Commonwealth than the poor man can; for he unto the great store of his household servants may likewise entertain other soldiers for the defence thereof, whereas the poor man at that instant serveth for no other end but to increase the famine, or to discourage others: in like sort there is as great difference betwixt my deed and the fact of Nero, as there was betwixt thy tree and thy house, and the great city of Rome. Finally so small a trifle is not worth so much talking, and chief because I refuse not to satisfy thee according to the law, and thine own request, for the law appointeth that whatsoever I have burned willingly, I should restore unto thee fourfold, and for the rest which was unwillnglie done, I should but only pay thee for it as it was worth.    

Declamation. 85.  
Of Agamemnon who first promised, and after would not sacrifice his daughter Iphiginia.  
ALl the Grecians being assembled together at the port Aulida, to go unto Troy for the revenge of the rape of the fair Helena: The sea became a long time so tempestuous, that they could not departed thence; whereupon Chalcas their chief priest consulting with the gods, after many sacrifices, prophesied that the sea should never be calm unless that Iphiginia the only daughter of Agamemnon, General of the whole army and brother to Menelaus the husband of fair Helena, were sacrificed unto Diana; so that Agamemnon because he would not lose the honour to be the greatest of all the Grecians, consented unto the death of his daughter, and writ unto his wife Clytaemnestra that she should send her daughter unto the said place, feigning that it was to assure her in marriage with Achilles: shortly after repenting him for the abusing of his wife in such sort, and being sorry that his daughter should die, he secretly sent another letter, commanding his wife to hide her daughter, that she might not be taken to be sacrificed: this last messenger was surprised by the way by Menelaus, who accused his brother of ambition and Treason, saying:  
SEeing that all the warlike men of Greece have done you this honour, above so many other noble and worthy men, to choose you only for their General, why will you like a most injurious and perjured man so wickedly betray them? Do you not yet know that the gods will never permit a treason so great and manifest to be hidden, and especially when they themselves are interessed therein? Know you not that Diana requireth your daughter for sacrifice, it may be to punish your ambition, or to chastise the pride of your wife, or rather to extirpate the presumption of the same your daughter? Truly I believe if none of all these three reasons do provoke the chaste Goddess unto just punishment, yet all these three together do stir her up unto a just revenge; just I say, because that the gods do never any thing unjustly: but who knoweth if the goddess (foreseeing the future lasciviousness of your daughter) be determined to have her before she be stained, or else that she desireth to have an unspotted virgin to be offered up unto her, that she might be the more favourable unto us, and make us conquerors over the ravisher of the chastity of Helena; for whose defence you and all the nobility of Greece were bounden, before she did choose me for her lord and husband: and yet whilst I was absent, you suffered her to be ravished & carried away, which maketh me to think that the Goddess being displeased with you, is desirous to have the same fault purged in the presence of all the Grecians, by the death of your daughter. Finally, the judgements of the gods are secret, but when their wills are manifest, they ought to be accomplished. The goddess requireth Iphiginia, you have promised her, we do look for her, therefore we ought to have her; especially seeing all the skill that man hath is notable to prolong her life one only minute against the will of the gods: and although you might save her, yet ought you not to prefer her life either before so many worthy Grecians, or before the honour of all Greece. But why should all the rest of Priam's sons, or any other Barbarian fear to enterprise any thing against us, If it shall be reported that for to save, or thinking to prolong a maiden's life, the whole army of the Grecians assembled together at such an infinite charge and with so great travel should of itself be so suddenly dissolved. What ambition can be then more great, then to usurp the title of a General, and not to perform the duty thereof? And what Treason is more manifest, then to go about to defraud all Greece of the honour obtained by the blood of our ancestors? If it was thought a strange matter that Ulysses feigned himself mad because he would not go unto the wars, and if for the same cause the parents of Achilles were despised having concealed him in the habit of a woman? What shall we say of you, who would not only deceive our army of one or two men, but would (if ourselves we will not give it over) that all of us should be swallowed up in the waves of the sea? Do you not consider that the greatness of your charge bindeth you to be more courageous and righteous, than all the rest? Who then will judge you to be such a one, if you repugn against the will of the gods? If you contrary the desire of all men? and without any shame at all, perform not your promise? If it be so, I dare say the Grecians are unhappy in choosing such a General, and you an unhappy General seeing that by your default the Grecians shall lose their ancient reputation. You may say that a father's love is great; I agree thereunto, so ought such as are highest in authority (as you would be) condescend unto great things, especially when as reason requireth: consider then for whom you do give your daughter, it is for the honour of your brother to recover your sister in law, for beauty the only paragon of all the world. It is to be revenged of our enemies for the safety of our country, to confirm the ancient valour of our nation, to win unto yourself an immortal glory, and that which is more than all the rest, to fulfil the good pleasure of the gods: of whom one alone is able to destroy all mankind. Consent then (as you are bound) to obey their divine power, to perform your duty, to pleasure your brother, to recover your sister in law, to save the Grecians, to maintain their ancient reputation; and especially to shun the name of a traitor. That your daughter my niece, may be offered up a pleasing sacrifice unto the gods, who do never request any thing hurtful unto their creatures, and it may be that they will save her; as well to manifest their mercy, as to provoke us joyfully to obey their commandments, from the which we can in no sort excuse ourselves.  

Agamemnon's Answer.  
HE can never be termed ambitious, who neither by force, tyranny, nor subtlety, attaineth unto any rule or dignity, but only by virtue, and the election of many▪ which in direct means there is none can say that I have used. As concerning the pleasure of the gods, that mine innocent daughter should be sacrificed, what certainty have we thereof, but only the word of the priest Chalcas: whose priestly dignity I do not contemn, but rather his human person, being as ready to err as the worst man in our troops. But I would feign know what pity could remain in the gods if they delighted or took pleasure to behold the shedding of innocent blood? I cannot believe that the same is to prevent the loss of her chastity, for as great power hath the goddess to maintain her virginity, as to shorten her days. Moreover, of extremes not only the gods, but also every virtuous man doth always endeavour to choose the best, whereby it appeareth, that they by the death of an innocent virgin, will neither recure lasciviousness, nor your own negligence; whereunto neither the Grecians, I, nor my daughter are in no sort bound. For you needed not to have received Paris, the son of a barbarous king into your house, much less to entertain him there a long time, and least of all to leave him at your departure all alone with your wife: Do you not know that it is very dangerous to leave fire and flax together? Are you such a fool that you know not how young men are lascivious, and women light? But who knoweth not that ambition and lust respect no law? Have not you tried that loves poison creepeth in by the eyes and ears? Did you not think that the same beauty, which not only inflamed you, but all Greece was as able to set a young Barbarian on fire, who was by nature lascivious? I confess that the judgements of the gods are secret, and therefore ought we first to be thoroughly assured of their wills, before we either give any credit thereunto or effect the same, least in thinking to obey them, we do disobey them. What proof have you that Diana requireth the death of my daughter, save only the word of an old man, who either doteth, or it may be would have this honour, that at his bare word the warlike and invincible Grecians, overcome with superstition, have sacrificed the noblest and worthiest maid of all Greece? And never allege that the gods desire the best things for sacrifice, for that is meant only by brute beasts, but as for human creatures they do preserve them, witness the old age of Nestor and others. Neither did there ever any great good proceed of too much superstition, which doth much differ from true religion, because the one always tendeth unto that which is good, and the other unto that which is bad. If Diana require her death, she may find her well enough where she is, without dishonouring me by the delivery of her? Which in sooth were a treacherous part. What certainty or assurance will Chalcas give that the seas shall be calm by the death of my daughter? Durst he gauge his head that so it shall be? and although he would so do, is those few years which an old man may live to be compared unto the youth of a Princess, who by her progeny will be able to illustrate all the world? To kill our own children is not the way to combat Priam and the rest of the Barbarians: I will not fail in any sort from the duty of a good General, no not in spending mine own life; but my daughters, that will I not give no more than you yourself would do, if one should likewise demand your Hermione as well as my Iphiginia. I will not in any sort accuse either Ulysses or Achilles, but I do excuse my daughter, who is no way culpable of the forced or voluntary adultery of her aunt. The same reason which commandeth me to be courageous, doth also forbid me to be cruel: but what cruelty can be more vild then to kill an innocent virgin? And how much more execrable is it, for a man to kill his own daughter? I did at the first promise her, as well to avoid public sedition in our army, as also to have leisure thereby to lave my daughter, for I hoped that you yourself, and they altogether deliberatlie considering the cruelty of the fact, would at the last confess with me the same to be altogether tyrannical and unlawful: for the gods do never favour such unjust acts. To conclude, so long as the breath remaineth in my body, I will never consent unto the death of my daughter, for it is sufficient enough that we do leave our houses, forsake our wives, abandon our children, and freely undertake this journey no less painful than perilous to our persons, without suffering our daughters to be sacrificed or offered up to recover that which you have negligently lost, and know no other reason why. And I cannot believe that any amongst so many worthy men should be desirous, or would willingly behold such a detestable deed but only you, who think to increase your own house by the overthrow of mine.    

Declamation 86.  
Of him that having taken up and fostered two young unknown orphans, did maim them because he might the better beg with them.  
THe law forbiddeth, that no man should either hurt or hinder the Commonwealth in any sort. Whereupon it happened, that a man found two infants, who through their parent's poverty were laid abroad and left unto the mercy of the world. Wherefore he took them, and fostering them up in his own house, he did wryth and break the joints of their arms and legs in such sort, as he quite maimed and lamed them, to the end that by begging with them he might gain the money. Which being known, he was taken and accused to be offensive and hurtful unto the Commonwealth. And his accuser said in this sort:  
Alas, how miserable are these infants, who have found one that hath been much more cruel than he or she that cast them forth. Seeing that with the price of their members they are forced to pay for their bringing up (or to say more truly) to satisfy the greedy covetousness of him that feigneth to be their fosterer: for if he had not done it for covetousness, the very name of orphans might have sufficed to have obtained a relief both for them and their foster-father. If those that through anger or malice do wound or kill a man are punished, What punishment is not this mischievous wretch worthy of, who hath done far worse, in making these poor infants for ever miserable? Wherein he hath showed himself much more unnatural than the brute beasts, (if it be true as Histories report) that in such a necessity, Cirus Whilom King of Persia, was nourished by a Bitch, and Remus and Romulus first founders and Kings of Rome, by a she wolf. O never hard of cruelty, when the lame and impotent are constrained to get his living that is whole and sound, who hath not only made them unprofitable, but odious and burdenous unto the Commonwealth! For they serve to no other end then to increase the famine therein, and also in the day of battle to discourage the hearts of most valiant by their lamentable cries and complaints: in like sort it may so happen that some woman with child may dream of them in such sort as with the very fright thereof she may bring forth the like cripples. All that which this lewd fellow can allege is, that if he had not been, these infants had died with hunger; It may be no: For how many others might have found them, that both would have cherished and brought them up for the profit of the Commonwealth? How many such as they have become famous warriors, yea and Kings? Whereof Cirus and the two foresaid Romans are sufficient examples: but this ungracious man hath cut off the tongues of some, to the end that without speaking they might be more importunate in craving: seeing then O judges that you are pitiful towards every one particularly, extend your mercy towards these twain here together: he is above all other most cruel, who under the colour of mercy, doth most mischief: these poor children are carried about to feasts and public assemblies, to beg their alms, where beholding the soundness and nimbleness of others, their sorrow is the more in seeing themselves maimed: other orphans or castaways that are sound, are not altogether hopeless to find their Parents again, or to be known by them, but these wretches can never be known because they were not such when they were left of them. Finally, it may be alleged that it was the greatest mischief that could happen unto these twain, to be found, and brought up by this bad man who is the cause of their perpetual misery.  

The beggars Answer.  
HE cannot be termed cruel, who hath been more pitiful unto these infants, than their own father or mother that abandoned them: I confess that I have maimed them, but who can tell whether I have done them more hurt or good thereby, for I have made them such as all the world is and ever will be ready to relieve them: Moreover, they take no pains in getting their living, and they are free from the danger of killing in the wars, or by thieves, in like sort they need not fear to be hanged by justice, or noted of infamy. As for any hurt done unto the Commonwealth, who can tell whether they would have been pilferers, murderers, thieves, traitors, seditious persons, seducers, Heretics, and other such like wicked fellows, as by nature they were likely to prove, being begotten of such parents, as cared not to leave them to the mercy of brute beasts? So that it may be said that by one small mischief I have prevented a number of manifest dangers: those that instruct youth to skirmish and kill men, are far more hurtful unto the Commonwealth than I, and yet are they not punished. I have not only made them as unable to do hurt, as they are unfit to do good, but also I am the cause that they are yet living: the Commonwealth can not be harmed by those which are not abiding therein as these were, being laid forth to die, from the which I have saved them. Whereas you allege that I am the cause that they live miserably, you do thereby affirm that it is by my means that they live, which is no small matter: the charity of many doth relieve them, but by my only compassion they do live. If I had fostered them up, and not maimed them, I should have deserved commendation; the loss thereof then is sufficient punishment for my maiming them. Who would ever have thought that such a Commonwealth should have had officers so idle as to busy themselves with that which a beggar doth amongst beggars, who have their justice and Commonwealth by themselves? Why may you not likewise say that Paris being cast forth of his Parents, and afterwards acknowledged by them, was the cause of his father & brethren's death, his mother and sister's captivity, the destruction of the noblest of all Greece and Phrigia, and lastly the utter subversion of his country Troy, as well as you speak of Cirus, who in the end slew his grandfather, and Romulus his brother? What should not he then have deserved that had maimed those? Or who can judge whether I have done good or hurt in maiming these here? But the time is so wicked, that whatsoever the poor do is accounted an offence. How many rich women do cause the fruit of their womb to perish by the strait girding and lacing in of their bodies? How many Noble men do burst their lacquise legs with running, and lame their servants with hunting? How many men do they undo, who do either die with hunger, or else are forced to rob by the high way? How many quarrels or brawls do they make to the hurt of the Commonwealth? If you would endeavour to correct such kind of men, you should have no leisure to persecute those who have not offended, but in show only: but it is not said in vain, That the laws are like unto spider's webs, wherein the small flies are taken, but the great ones do break through and escape.    

Declamation. 87.  
Of a gentleman who required to have those goods of his restored which his son had sold, in proving by law that his father was dead.  
A Gentleman of Piedmont had a quarrel, or at the least fell into the hatred of a great lord of the same country: who did one day cause the said gentleman to be taken very secretly, and hiding his face, made him to be carried into the dungeon of his castle, where he remained a prisoner, in such sort as during the space of more than eight years, he could never imagine in what place he remained: the said gentleman before he was prisoner, had likewise a quarrel with two of his neighbours, who were inferiors unto him in calling, with whom also the said lord was greatly displeased: whereupon he imagined how he might at one instant cause them both to die, and by the same means quite himself from all suspicion that might be imagined of his wronging the gentleman. So that he began to inquire what was become of the said gentleman, and upon suspicion of the enmity of these two neighbours against him, he prevailed so much by false informations, that the justice apprehended their bodies, and either by examivation or tortures they were enforced to confess that they had murdered the said gentleman, upon which their confession, the justice caused them to be publicly beheaded: so that every one did assuredly believe that the said gentleman was dead. Wherefore a son which he had, being a very prodigal youth, began not only to seize upon all his father's lands and goods, but also did riotously waste the same, and in the end sold and consumed all; in such sort as shortly after he died in great poverty. It chanced about fourteen years after that the Frenchmen surprised the said great lord in his house, and for because the castle wherein he held this gentleman prisoner was a fort of great importance to be kept for a frontier place, they compelled the said lord to surrender the same up unto the King, or his Lieutenant General, the which he did: and the Frenchmen finding the said gentleman there, suffered him to departed, who like one risen from death to life, went home unto his own house, the which he found was sold, and the judge which had caused the others to be executed dead: but he pretending to know nothing of all that had happened, required restitution of his lands and goods, saying:  
THere is no law that permitteth the son to sell his father's goods during his life. You see that I am not dead, and that I am his father that hath sold you his goods: if you stand in doubt thereof, I will for your further assurance show you evident tokens, and will prove the same by sufficient witnesses: Your light belief or want of wit to be better advised, ought not to be prejudicial to me in any sort. You are not the first that have made a bad bargain, and a good restitution: for most commonly men being blinded with covetousness, do easily believe every thing to be true which they desire. Caesar imputed this lightness unto the Frenchmen, the which it may be they have brought hither unto you, to make you partakers thereof, but yet for all that I will not lose mine inheritance; restore it unto me then or else prove that I am not he whom you know me to be. O you righteous judges, I do esteem you too just to suffer me to fall from one misery into another far more great, having not derued it: for not only is age an incurable malady, but poverty joined with it, may be termed an exceeding mischief. From the which worthy judges I beseech you to preserve me.  

The answer of the possessors.  
WE do allow the same law which you allege to be just & right, but we know not whether we should account you amongst the living or the dead: seeing that not only the people have accounted you dead, but the law itself hath adjudged you both for a dead man, and also hath caused those to die who confessed that they killed you. What witness is more like to be true, then that which is advouched by twain, not only to their own hurt against themselves, but to the detriment of their goods, their honour, and their lives? If the testimony which those miserable men have produced against themselves, hath been sufficient to cause them to lose their goods, honour, yea and their lives; Why should not the same be of force to maintain those in their possession which have publicly bought an inheritance of him, who by the witness aforesaid had power to sell and surrender the same? If you have any interest therein, take it you of them who are the cause of your hurt; that is of the foresaid witnesses, of the judge, of the lord that took you prisoner, or of yourself, who could take no order in your own affairs, or seeing you would not agree, could not keep you from your enemies: it was no covetousness that made us to buy your heritage, but the zeal of the Commonwealth, who are interessed when the lands are unthriftilie wasted: likewise you judge amiss of us, if you think that the desire which we had of your death, induced us to believe the same: for it was more hurtful than profitable unto us; because it was no small contentment unto us to have so good a neighbour as we have always esteemed you to be: and for that we would be no more in danger to have so bad a one as your son was, or a worse, we did buy his inheritance, the which as our desire is that you should not lose the same, so also would not we lose our silver, for the recompense of our care in preserving your goods, & amending your heritage; of all matters in strife, the possessor being on the surer side, hath the advantage: We have nothing to prove against you, but it is you that ought to prove our bargain to be fraudulent or of no worth: and we believe that the judges will remember that we are not the causers either of your poverty or age. Furthermore, they are not ignorant that the chiefest point which ought to be observed in the Commonwealth is, that every one should be maintained in the quiet possession of that which he hath justly gotten and paid for, as we have done the inheritance which you do wrongfully require at our hands.  
This former process is true, and hath been reported unto me by the lord john Chastillier, Knight, one of the King's Counsel, and surueior of his majesties treasure, who assured me that he was in Piemount during the foresaid process. And moreover, the said lord told me that after long arguing and much controversies it was judged that the plaintiff should enjoy his inheritance during his life, without impairing or alieating the same: but after his decease it should wholly revert unto those which did possess and had bought the same of the said plaintiffs son.    

Declamation. 88  
Of Horatius, who after he had himself alone vanquished the three Curiatij, slew his sister that bewailed the death of her husband.  
ABout that time as Rome began to flourish, those of Alba, an ancient city, and to say the truth, the very same from whence the Romans had their beginning, had some grudge towards Rome, through which there arose a mortal war between them, the which after many skirmishes, and sundry combats, they agreed to end in this sort, uz. That the three brethren of the Albanois named the Curiatij, should fight hand to hand against other three brethren of the Romans called the Horatij, upon condition that those which were overcome, their city and Commonwealth should for ever be subject unto the other, without contradiction or refusal: whereupon the said combatants being entered the lists, the elder and the second brethren of the Horatij were suddenly slain, the which the youngest perceiving, he feigned to run about the field as though he had been overcome: wherefore the others were ashamed to pursue him altogether, so that one alone following him eagerly, Horatius suddenly turned back and slew him, and in the same sort he slew the second that was somewhat too slow in seconding his brother: then making head against the last, who had married the sister of the said Horatij, he likewise slew him, not without receiving also many wounds himself, whereof when he was healed, he came in triumph to Rome, all the people and the noblest matrons of the city meeting him by the way, amongst whom by the commandment of her father his sister also went, who had lost her said husband in the combat; she seeing her brother triumph over the death of her husband, & her brethren in law, lost all patience, and setting apart all respect, instead of welcoming him home, she said unto him: Thou cruel menster how hadst thou the heart to slay my husband? and saying so, she burst forth into abundance of tears, wherewith he being enraged, answered: art thou she alone amongst so many honourable ladies that art sorry for the prosperity and liberty of Rome, or that repinest at my victory, and saying so, he gave her a blow with his sword on the breast, afterwards suddenly repenting himself for the deed, he alighted from his triumphant chair, endeavouring (if it had been possible) to have gotten life in her again, but he could not, for she suddenly died, being great with child. For which deed those that maligned the glory of Horatius, took occasion to accuse him so sharply, as he was condemned either to bear the yoke of an exe upon his neck through Rome, in sign of bondage, or to be whipped with rods, and hanged upon a cross until he were dead, but he appealed from this sentence, and his father pleaded for him in this sort:  
whether are your hearts and understandings carried, O you Romans, that you will thus persecute your redeemer? Do you not know that above all other vices, Ingratitude is most displeasing unto the gods? How can you then prosper? Surely it is impossible: Will you oppress him, that could not be dismayed with the death of his two brethren, much less discouraged with the presence of his three enemies? Will you despise him whom the gods have caused to be borne for the liberty and honour of Rome? Know you not that in all this, none hath been harmed but I? Is it not sufficient that I have lost two sons and a daughter, but that I must also lose this son too, who only is left to be the staff of my age, and comfort to my forepast afflictions? why would you make him a bondman that hath been the cause of your freedom? Do you not fear that this is an unlucky token, which threateneth all your thraldoms? Alas, Romans banish this unhappy presaging from us, and either honour him with a perfect triumph, or at the least despise him not, whom the gods have been willing to honour with such a famous victory. The zeal of the Commonwealth induced him suddenly to kill his sister, who to say the truth, did speak very indiscreetelie; let then the grief which he suffereth for committing such a fact be a sufficient punishment for his fault: do you not know, O Romans, that we have no power over the sudden motions of our rage? If there be any fault, I am the cause thereof? For as much as I constrained my daughter to go forth to meet him, without considering that women are not only seldom times mistresses over their tongues, but also that love and sorrow can never be dissembled. If you will not then suffer this mischance to be unpunished, let the punishment light upon me: To the end that the gods be not provoked to revenge upon you the wrong which you would do unto him, by whose means they have delivered you: For there is nothing more certain than that the gods have a particular care over those whom they make conquerors, and do so miraculously preserve in the like dangers. Contemn not him whom the gods have honoured, neither yet let him die, that hath killed your enemies, and made your lords over them; which if he had not been, would have been lords our you all.  

The Answer of the Romans.  
WE do not persecute our redeemer, but we would execute justice upon one, who being drunken with vainglory, hath unjustly murdered his sister, that might have borne many children like unto him, whereof he hath slain one with the mother, the better to declare that as he had delivered us from some bordering contagion, so likewise he meant to tyrannize over his country. But what will not he be bold to attempt against the rest of the Citizens, if the murder of his sister should be left unpunished? Did not he know that even amongst enemy's clemency is judged to be the worthiest part of the victory? How much then ought the same to be esteemed amongst friends, but more between kindred, and most of all towards women, who are by nature weak, and subject to their passions more than men? Where did he find that it is a vice for a woman either to love her husband, or not to be able to dissemble a sorrow so just? Seeing that he himself could not, or at the least would not endure a few unadvised words of his sister; ought not he to consider that the woman is the moiety of the man? and that the one cannot be hurt, but that the other must feel the harm? It is true as you say, that ingratitude is odious unto the gods, & therefore that which he hath used towards his country, you, and his sister, condemneth him. We can never prosper if we suffer such a cursed man in our Commonwealth. Seeing that he was so cruel as to kill his sister, it maketh us also to think that he willingly suffered his brethren to be slain, either to augment his fame, or because he would be the only heir of his father: for he which had the wit in such sort to fly from his enemies to snare them one after another (which is an incredible patience) should not have been so furious against his sister, if ambition had not blinded him. Alas, we are in doubt whether Rome hath gained more by his victory, than it hath lost by his murder, as well in honour as in profit; for it is no small hurt to scandalise a Commonwealth by an evil example: Your loss doth not diminish the wrong done in common to us all, neither is it against reason, that having lost those whom you might rightly call your children, you should likewise lose him that hath not respected you as his father, and hath not showed the heart of a brother towards his sister: but what stay shall you have of the murderer of your daughter? Those on whom the gods do bestow the most graces, aught to be more modest, and the less prone to abuse their favour; the mischief which he hath done is a greater forwarning unto us, than the correction is which we shall use therefore, for by the punishment of offenders, the innocents are assured, and we do thereby divine that we shall hereafter have dominion over all the world; for justice is pleasing unto the gods, and reward and punishment are the true pillars of the Commonwealth: wherefore it is not likely to be true, that the zeal of the Commonwealth can induce any to do ill, or to enterprise any thing to the detriment thereof. Surely, if we have no power over our first motions, his sister was excusable for saying that which she did, and the rather if that (as you say) she was constrained to go to meet him, that came from killing the moiety of herself: If you are culpable in that you sent her, we having regard unto your good meaning, do respect your age and remit your punishment, neither will we suffer you to endure any for your sons offence, because that as it is a cruelty to punish the innocent, so is it a folly to pardon the offence. The same care as the gods have over the conquerors, the same care ought the conquerors to have, not to show themselves unworthy of their divine favours; for unto whom much is given, of him also shall much be required. What shall we then say, if he whom the gods have honoured, do despise himself? For he which by the favour of the gods hath slain our enemies, ought not afterwards to have slain his own sister. If the gods have by the force of his arms given us the dominion over those who would have ruled over us, the worthiest thanks that we can yield unto their Deity is, to show by our good justice that we are not unworthy to rule. Wherefore you cannot do better than to counsel your son willingly to choose the yoke, or patiently to take his death; for making a virtue of necessity, he shall diminish the dishonour of his offence, and the duty of the Commonwealth shall be observed.    

Declamation. 89.  
Of Diogenes that would not restore a cloak which one had lent unto him.  
THe law commandeth a man to restore whatsoever he hath borrowed, but those things which are given ought not to be required again. Whereupon it happened that a man named Aristarchus did lend a cloak unto Diogenes the Cynic. Within a while after the said Aristarchus prayed him to restore his cloak, but Diogenes could not hear on that ear, wherefore Aristarchus threatened him by law, whereunto Diogenes answered:  
I Know no other law then the law of nature, which commandeth me not to part from that which I stand in need of. If thou then hast given me this cloak, why wouldst thou have it again? Or if thou didst lend it unto me to cover me withal, wherefore wouldst thou take it from me when I have greatest need thereof? If thou sayest thou didst lend it me until I had another, I am content to restore it unto thee at that time? Look then if thou canst find any man that will give or lend me a better, and I will restore thee this again.  

The answer of Aristarchus.  
AS I did willingly lend my cloak unto thee, so may I take it from thee when I think good: and as the law of nature commandeth me to have compassion of my neighbour, and to help him, as I have helped thee as much as possibly I could in lending thee this cloak, even so now it commandeth me to take it again because I stand in need thereof: for he that is bad or unprofitable for himself, can never be good for others. The law of nature commandeth thee not to be unthankful towards him that hath done thee a pleasure, much less to detain by force, that which one hath lent unto thee friendly.    

Declamation. 90.  
Of the three Fabiuses, who being sent Ambassadors unto the Gauls, did fight against them.  
During the thirteenth military Tribuneship, the Gauls came and assailed the city of Clusa, who sent for aid unto the Romancs. They sent the three sons of Fabius Ambusta, to persuade the gaul's not to hurt the Clusians being friends unto the Romans Commonwealth: the Gauls answered that they required nothing but dwelling places, and if the Clusians denied them some portion of their country, they would fight with them in the presence of the Ambassadors, to the end that they might be judges of their valour. And hereupon after divers other words the battle joined: where the three Ambassadors took part with the Clusians against the Gauls, of whom one Ambassador slew a captain, which was the cause that suddenly the Gauls gave over the battle, turning all their malice against Rome, whether they sent Ambassadors, requiring that the three Fabiuses might be delivered unto them. The judgement was remitted unto the Roman people, who instead of chastising them, made them military Tribunes, giving them the full power of Consuls: whereupon the Gauls did protest the ruin of Rome, saying:  
IT might have sufficed you O Romans, to have sent your Ambassadors to dissuade us from the wars enterprised against the Clusians, without employing the said Ambassadors against us, for you shall confess one of these three, that either you are our friends, or neauters, or else our enemies: if friends, you ought to aid us, if neauters, not to hurt us, and if enemies, to defy us, before you fight against us. If you esteem us to be Barbarians, in that we are strangers, and because we are not like you in eloquence? Yet are we not to be judged altogether void of reason, or such as have not the wit to discern what is right and what is wrong. Moreover, we know very well that those which are sent to persuade peace, ought not to kindle or increase war. You sent Ambassadors to persuade us unto peace, who on the other side not only encouraged our enemies against us, but they themselves fought with all violence: What Treason can be more great, then to feign one deed and do another? If you did send them to fight against us (as it is to be presumed, having sent three brethren, young men and valiant in arms) you cannot deny but that you deserve all the mischief that we are able to do unto you? If they did fight against your meaning, assure us thereof by sending them unto us; That we may know who moved them (forgetting the duty of Embasssadors) to use hostility against us, for in doing otherwise, you shall not only provoke our anger, but the just vengeance of the gods against you, of whom we shall be the cruel ministers. And think not that for want of power, or courage we have left Tuscan to come unto Rome, but only to let you know that it is not for the Romans to command the Gauls, much less to offend them in any sort; but rather to favour them in their deseignes, that they might have good neighbourhood and friendship with such a warlike people: or in doing the contrary, to try what advantage they have in warlike Prowess over every other nation: Wherefore O you Romans either resolve to deliver unto us the three Fabiuses, or prepare you to the fight, and although your forces are as feeble as your courages are faint (if such Treason be harboured amongst you) yet feign yourselves to be other than you are, to the end that our victory may not be altogether without glory; for we protest, that if our demand be not accomplished, we will overrun your city, race down your houses, lay your temples and walls flat with the earth, in such sort that after ages shall ask where Rome stood, when as they shall see no memorial thereof left: for it is the just judgement of the gods, that utter ruin should fall upon those, who do offend under the colour of friendship.  

The Answer.  
TRue it is that we did send the three Fabiuses for Ambassadors unto you Gauls, and that they ought not to have fought against you, if for such you had received them: but what shall we say, seeing that in steed of answering their demands, you would on the contrary have made them beholders of your injustice and cruelty? For you said that the Clusians should have no peace with you unless they would leave part of their country for your habitation: then the Ambassadors demanding for what reason, and upon what occasion you did require lands in Tuscan? You answered that your reason consisted in arms, and that to strong and warlike men all things were due, yea, and that you would forthwith have an answer of the Clusians in the presence of the Roman Ambassadors; to the intent that they might make report at Rome how valiant in arms the Gauls were above any other nation. We would know of you Gauls if one should have answered your Ambassadors in such sort, what you would have done? Seeing that even those which are most warlike, should have tried every other reasonable means, before they had proceeded into arms: and yet you despising those that were the freest and mightiest people of all Italy, would command their friends and their Ambassadors, and contemning both the one and the other, give a battle in steed of an answer. Surely they were not sent to fight against you, but seeing that for answer, you offered the battle unto their friends & neighbours, without yielding them any sufficient reason why, they remembering that they were Romans, would rather prove then behold your valour; and if you had slain them in the fight, we would never have cauelled any further for them: for you having neither received them as Ambassadors, nor given them no answer but by arms, it may be said that they were no more Ambassadors; wherefore we would never have required them either for such nor for any others at your hands, for we know that it is a common thing to kill, and to be killed: but although they had done amiss, as you say they have, yet should you have first known our meaning, and have required satisfaction thereof, before you should have brought your armed troops upon our territories: but you do very well declare (you gauls) that you will neither send any Ambassadors, nor will receive any at all: but trusting in your forces, you will make your wills a law, how unjust soever they be. As touching your demand, whether we be your friends, neuters, or enemies, we answer that we will be such as you shall give us occasion to be, for it seemeth they can hardly be your friends that are near unto you: wherefore although we should not allow that which the Fabiuses have done, yet may it be a question whether they have done amiss or no in resisting the common enemies of all Italy, seeing that an hundred years since, your ancestors leaving their natural country, came first and occupied the country of the Taurins, afterwards that of the Insubrians, than the limits of Tuscan, and now without any reason you would usurp the territories of the Clusians, the which if they had granted you, what assurance should they have had that afterwards you would have been good friends, or peaceable neighbours unto them; seeing that you are of opinion being strong men, all things are due unto you; and that you can yield no other reason for your deeds then arms? What is he that can be assured of such kind of people, which maketh us to doubt, that in time, you would if you could occupy Rome and all Italy? If you will be our friends, ●ee that you do not only withdraw your army from us, but also for our sakes surcease your molesting of the Clusians, and then knowing that our Ambassadors have offended you, we shall make you a reasonable satisfaction: assuring you that we are sufficient to punish or chastise them withot putting you unto the pains to do it: and if you show yourselves (as in effect you have begun) to be our enemies, the Fabiuses cannot be culpable▪ and it were better to employ them against you, then to do them any hurt at your instance. But what madness doth incite you to come in such sort against us? You know well that if we had been minded to send aid unto the Clusians, we would not have sent three men only. Wherefore we thinking you had been our friends, did send to entreat you not to hurt the Clusians, but doing contrary to our request, the Ambassadors thought you had been our enemies, and so consequently that they were bound to aid the Clusians. When you have withdrawn your army from us, we will dispute whether they did well or ill: But so long as you talk thus armed, we may say that you have no desire to have us your friends. Of a truth they fought against our meaning, yet never imagine you that for all the same, we will deliver them unto those which come unto us as enemies. As for the anger of the gods, it stretcheth not to those that defend their temples as we will do, moreover, we are bound to defend our country, our wives, our children, & the sepulchres of our fathers, if you will offer to hurt them; therefore as you do protest our overthrow, so do we swear your death, if you once assault us. For to be offended, and to offend, is all one, and it is a most just reason, that those which seek to usurp another man's lands, should lose their own lives.    

Declamation. 91.  
Of a young youth, that made himself a Nun to enjoy one that he loved.  
AT such time as the law was not so strict against those which by all the means they could sought to enjoy the love of Nuns, a young youth came in the habit of a maiden into a Nunnery, and made himself a Nun, to obtain his pleasure of one whom he loved in the same cloister: after he had obtained his desire, and remained there some time in great delight, he was at last discovered; whereupon the bishop would have constrained him to become a religious man of the same order, which he had made profession of in the habit of a woman, the youth appealed from the same sentence, saying:  
Every lawful vow ought to be voluntary, wherefore you cannot constrain me to enter into religion against my will. You say that I have made a vow already, I refer it to your judgement, whether being a man, I might become a Nun? If such a vow be lawful, then let me be still a Nun: If it be not lawful, then is it of no force, and so consequently I am thereof freed, or at the most, to be punished in such sort as by the law it shall be appointed, if there be any law that maketh mention of the like fault: and if there be no law that maketh mention thereof, it is a token that whatsoever I have done is no crime, for there is some law appointed for every fault: for as laws are made for the good of the Commonwealth, even so those that offend them not are not punishable: as for me, I believe that I have in no sort offended them, having charitably relieved her that had need of my help, considering the frailness of my flesh, which might have induced her to do worse than a thing incident to nature; yea, and to the great reproach of religion, she might have found the means to fly away from the Nunnery contrary to her vow and promise: likewise, it is to be considered, that those faults (if faults they may be called which are through love committed) are more excusable than punishable, because they are done but for love, and to increase human generation▪ besides that the most philosophers do say, that lovers are fools, and others affirmed that they are blind: what reason were it then to punish a fool, or such a one whose understanding is blind? Who knoweth not that they are more worthy of pity then punishment? Nay who knows not that love hath always his abiding in the noblest hearts, and compelleth the most obstinate to follow him? Furthermore, the distance of places is not able to separate that true love which of long time hath been imprinted in the hearts of lovers, for as he that doth love fervently doth seldom or never forget it, so ought youth to be excused for doing but their kind: for that which in matters of love is lawful for young men to do, is unlawful for old men to desire; Wherefore it may be said, that as unhappy is it for a young man to be without love, as it is for an old man to be in love: and the more worthy the thing beloved is, the more vehement is our desire thereof; therefore the desert of her whom I love, hath brought me to this extremity: to counterfeit a sex inferior unto mine, the which I would for no other thing have done, but hereby it appeareth, that the lover liveth in the thing beloved, and that he is dead in himself; so that I was constrained to find out this invention, to approach unto her in whom I live: for water far of, doth never quench fire hard at hand: the planets do chiefly compel us to love, therefore doth Venus show herself to be more strong than Mars: and that which is more, no other law then that of nature can be given unto lovers: for it seemeth that love is a divine and human essence all in one subject, whereby it happeneth, that true lovers are most apt to sustain great travails, for love is no other thing than a contemplation of the thing beloved, but the lover is such as the thing beloved is, therefore was I enforced to become such as my mistress was. lastly, being constrained by all these abovesaid reasons, I am more than excusable, for of all the parts in a man's body, the heart is the noblest, and the noblest part of the heart is love: therefore it may be very well affirmed, that he which knoweth not how to love well, hath a bad heart. To conclude, it must be considered for what intent vows are made, as for me I made mine to the intent that I might be near unto my best beloved; in seeking to deprive me of this intention my vow should be broken, and if it be so, I will make no other: but you cannot say that it is all one vow, seeing that there is great difference between the obeying of a man, & the serving of a woman, & religious men ought to be learned, and to have such other perfections whereof I am not capable; whereas amongst religious women obedience only with humility is sufficient, for which cause I will not make any other vow then that which I have made: but as I said at the first, I submit myself to be judged according to the law, beseeching that the gloze thereof may be as far from cruelty, as it is fittest for men to use clemency.  

The Bishop's answer.  
IF I had not assuredly thought that thou wouldst have refused my proffer, to make thyself a religious man, I would never have offered the same unto thee, being as thou art unworthy of so great a favour: but I intended by this means to manifest by your own tongue your wicked intention, to the end that you might be worthily punished therefore, and never say that if no law mention of the like fault as yours is, that therefore you should remain unpunished, for it may be there was never such a cursed deed heard of before, or the lawmakers thinking that such a fact could never be committed made no mention thereof: as Lycurgus made no law against such as murdered their Parents, imagining that none could be so wicked as to commit such a crime, therefore would he not mention such a detestable deed: but do you think that for all that the Lacedaemonians would have left to punish those grievously which should have committed the same, & that they would not have inflicted a punishment as rigorous as the fact was rare? No doubt they would: for when offences are execrable, the punishments must be the more extreme, to stop altogether the passage unto such vices; and especially in such a case where the accusation is not public, it were most expedient that the punishment should be secret, but the more severe, that the same being known of few men, the crime might be less manifest, and the terror of the punishment more great. For so during the Consulship of Terentius Varo, Lucius Cantilius Chancellor to the Bishops having committed adultery with Florania a Vestal Nun, was (in the place called Comicia, the gates being locked up) so beaten with rods by the bishop, that he died with the blows; which ought to serve as well for an example as a law unto this fellow, whose fault is more foul. What punishment then shall be sufficient for your adultery? Whereof you seem chiefly to boast and to approve the same by your reasons no less frivolous than detestable, by the which it should seem (by your saying) that incests and adulteries ought not to be blamed, provided that thereby the generation of mankind be increased: alas, how more happy were it that neither you nor she had ever been borne, then that you should be the occasion of such a scandal, seeing that it were better that he which scandalizeth the least of the Christians were thrown into the sea with a millstone about his neck; What do you call love? A vild carnal concupiscence, As much, or more common unto brute beasts, then unto reasonable men, who cannot use it lawfully, but only in marriage, to the end to bring forth children: Wherefore Saint Paul doth very well say, That Whoredom is surely one of the greatest sins and most hurtful unto man, seeing that every other sin is without him, and whoredom consumeth both his body and his soul, making him the one half of an harlot, when he is created for no other cause but to be the Temple and dwelling place of God. Why do you not say then in steed of your leasings, that an harlot is a hell, wherein God suffereth those which forget him to be drowned, and that filthiness is the reward for the infidelity of men? O wicked wretch, how darest thou then look up into heaven, or behold the earth, the one being the seat, the other the footstool of God? Whom because thou dost forget, thou art unworthy of his favour. If whoredom committed with profane women be detestable, what shall we say of adultery with such as are religious, who are consecrated to God? Seeing that the Romans, when as yet they were ignorant of the truth, did bury their Vestal Nuns quick, that suffered themselves to be defiled? You say well, That lovers are blind of understanding; see then the cause why those are to be punished which suffer themselves to fall into such blindness, that proceedeth of nothing but idleness & gluttony which provoketh luxuritie: therefore ought you to have shunned these two vices, but you might have escaped the third, the which as you have sought it, so are you fallen into it. Surely, all men are tempted, and the greatest temptation, is not to be tempted at all, because than we forget to be men, but virtue appeareth in the resisting against temptation, which you having neglected, you have not only tempted, but defiled the spouse of Christ: What fire or torment may expiate so vild and abominable wickedness? And surely you have refused (as one that is unworthy) to do penance in religion, having first defiled the same, making the holy vow thereof to serve for a cloak unto your filthiness. Let then the bull of Perillus be put in use again, and as he made the first experience thereof, so be you the first that must be punished more rigorously than ever any heretofore hath been, seeing that your adultery (the like whereof was never heard) is the cause that a new law must be made to terrify such as would follow you. lastly, (imitating the example of God, which would not the death of a sinner) I have called you to repentance, not without great suspicion of your refusal; in doing whereof, I take you at your word, and require the temporal sword to punish you, for counterfeiting your sex, for abusing the vow of religion, for your vild whoredom, for refusing to do penance, and for your devilish obstinacy. Consider worthy judges how many torments such a number of heinous crimes deserve.    

Declamation. 62.  
Of Don Ferrand, who punished the mutined Spaniards, and afterwards is therefore accused.  
IN the time of the Emperor Charles the fifth, the Spanish soldiers that were in Scicilia, rose in a mutiny, and committed a thousand mischiefs, whereof the least deserved the halter: whereupon Don Ferrand of Gonsagne, brother to the Duke of Mantua, (who had always been employed by the Emperor, in chiefest places of command) appeased them, paying them part of that which was due unto them: afterwards he caused them to be embarked to carry them (as he said) to Genoa, they being all embarked, he carried them unto certain desert Isles, where he made them to go ashore, feigning that he would there take the muster of them, and make an end of paying them: but when they were all in order a good why in the Island, he found the means to cause those to retire unto the Galleys, whom he meant to save, and afterwards he set sail, and departed, leaving the rest of the soldiers there, who for the most part died all with hunger: for which fact Don Ferrand was accused unto the counsel of Spain as followeth:  
IF discretion might be given as well as dignities are granted, we should not now need to demand his death, who hath deprived the lives of a number that were servitors to Caesar as well as he, and no less serviceable: the which he would never have done, if he had considered that neither he nor any other could have that honour to be General of an army if the soldiers did not freely determine to serve their Prince, and follow the wars, especially, if they would altogether with one mind refuse so to do: but hence cometh the mischief, that those which have not first learned to be controlled, do never know rightly lie how to command? Wherefore Hannon said well when Hasdruball commanded in Carthage, and Hannibal was to be sent into Spain, being very young; It were better (said he) that this younker tarried here in the city to learn how to obey laws, then to teach him so suddenly to command in a foreign land. Likewise, we are to consider what was the end of Pompey, who following the faction of Silla, was sooner made a captain then a soldier: even so those of our time which are nobly borne do command, before they are able to discern peace from wars, the friend from the foe, good from bad, and reputation from reproach; whereupon it chanceth, that as Hannibal was the cause of the overthrow of Carthage, and Pompey the decay of the Commonwealth of Rome, so these captains made in haste presuming overmuch of their own courage, might impair the prosperity of Caesar, if his fortune together with his virtue were not invincible. But yet there is another mischief, which is, that Iralie (which may be termed the churchyard of Spanish soldiers) bringeth forth few men which are well affected to the Spanish nation: who to say the truth, being worthy men, are also somewhat haughty minded, the which the Italians do attribute unto their pride, which is the chiefest cause why they do for the most part hate them: we will not be inquisitive whether heretofore Don Ferrand hath been the cause of the death of a number of other Spaniards, but we may well say that he hath made those (whom he left in the desert Island) to die the cruelest death that might be imagined, without any judgement, Counsel, or consent of Caesar, as if men were nursed and brought up for nothing. Surely, it should seem that he did not see what pains was taken in Spain to assemble such a number of soldiers together, what stir there was to embark them, how hardly they crossed the seas, and what time was spent in disciplining them for the wars, all which things was not done without great charge and expense unto the Emperor, and the danger of their own persons; and they were no sooner delivered over to Don Ferrand, thoroughly furnished and ready for the wars (as if they had sprung forth of the earth in one night, like unto muhrooms) but that he did presently thrust them not only into all the greatest dangers that might be, when as many times there was no great occasion: but also because he would be revenged for the faults of some few of them, he hath done them all unto the cruelest death that he could invent. But we would demand of him how it could be possible that they should be all culpable, and whether they were all authors of sedition? For that is not only hard, but impossible: had it not been better then for him to have punished the authors, that thereby the consenters might have been terrified or chastised, and the good cherished and maintained? Or if he would needs have had them to die, could he not have sent them forth upon the foe? Where revenging their death, they might at the least have weakened his forces. We read indeed how the Romans tithed their mutined soldiers, and used other like punishments, but it was never seen or heard that they put them all to death; and especially in Spain under the conduct of Scipio, where there was not only a mutiny, but also Vmbrius Atrius, and Calemus Albius took upon them the authority of Consuls by the agreement and at the instance of the soldiers, yet were none punished but the authors of the deed, and the rest were paid, employed, and allowed for good soldiers, not because the Romans had not as good means to send other soldiers from Rome into Spain (and better than we have now to send out of Spain into Italy) but this was the reason: the General was a Roman, and he not hating the nation, was only contented to punish a few of the offenders, & by the severity of that exemplary punishment, to terrify and fear the rest: for it is very certain, that those which are threatened do live better than those which are punished, for the punishment being done, the fear is past, and oftentimes it engendereth such a malice, as maketh them to commit far greater faults than the first; as (it may be) the effect shall be seen by those which by some means may chance to escape from those Islands: do but imagine if there had but a few been punished, what dutiful men those which had been pardoned would have proved, to show that they were worthy of pardon, and to cause their passed offence to be forgotten? But yet if all this could not have moved him to spare them, yet should he have done it because it is so difficult a matter to draw very often many men forth of Spain, where there is no great store, as also for the great treasure that is needful to levy and conduct them, which is always a great charge both unto the country and the people: but what care have the Italians thereof, being borne far from Spain, and natural enemies to our nation because they are more valiant than any other? for which cause as I have said already the Italians call them proud, as if a great fire could be without some smoke. And consequently it may appear that although some Italians do serve Caesar, yet are they nevertheless mortal enemies to the Spaniards: for they being indeed as proud as they are cruel, cannot abide this worthy and valiant nation: for proof whereof, what cruelty (joined with pride) was there ever more great than this of Don Ferrand, who hath not at the least spared those, who would have bestowed their lives for the safety & defence of his? But he hath likewise caused the innocent to perish together with the offender; he doth plainly show that he (according to the example of Nero) would desire that all Spain had but one head, that he might cut it off at one blow: therefore must we for an example prevent by punishment, such minds no less dangerous than devilish, to the end that other strangers being captains in the wars, may hereafter consider, that oftentimes such a number of men may either keep or win a Province, but the dead can fight no more; and many times for want of men there may sundry good occasions be lost, to the prejudice of Caesar's greatness, and to the hindrance of all Christendom. I pass over the causes that captains do most commonly give unto their soldiers to mutiny, one whiles because they are not paid as well as they, and otherwhiles when they detain the best part of their contributions and other booties that ought to be given unto them; remembering not that the soldiers do with the price of their blood oftentimes buy those victories, whereof the Generals reap the honour and profit; neither will acknowledge how by their malice, ambition, and avarice, the victory is oftentimes foreslowed, or utterly lost, most commonly to the detriment of the profit, honour, and life of the poor soldiers: and therefore to conclude, I say that they are right captains who do attain thereunto by degrees, and by their valour, and those will beware how they commit any such cruelties like unto this which Don Ferrand hath committed, for the which we require that justice may be executed.  

The Answer.  
THose places which are of dignity and authority, ought not to be bestowed but upon such as are known to be of discretion sufficient to deserve them. As for me, I dare avouch that this is not the first time that I have commanded in Caesar's service, and that only by his own commandment, who hath many times praised, & always allowed whatsoever I have done; so that to judge me indiscreet were as much to tax his Majesty as me: and he that would tax the actions of the Emperor, should prove himself a very Idiot; for his manifold victories and other noble acts (being indeed worthy of his Majesty) will be a witness against these no less severe than ignorant Censors. And as it is very evident that the judgement of Caesar doth never deceive his Majesty, so is it also very certain, that his Majesty would never have employed me so many times, if he had not esteemed me discreet. And thus much further I dare affirm, that if those which are so desirous to be my judges, were chosen or placed in their authority by the doom of Caesar, I should think myself happy to be judged by them, although I am not bounden to render unto them any account of my military actions, and especially because the deed which I have done was allowed by Caesar, who only might have punished me if the fact had been unjust: but his Majesty doth very well know that sometimes it is lawful to do a little harm, to shun thereby a greater hurt: and I will further say, that if long before this time such soldiers as did mutiny had been punished very severely, I should not now have been enforced to execute this punishment, more notable than any that heretofore hath been performed. And although I am not bound to justify myself for that deed, before the Counsel of Spain, yet will I not let to show that I am not so faulty, as they do think me to be, for if I were, Caesar is so just as I should not be free from punishment: for first of all the lords of the Counsel ought to consider, what they be that accuse me, whether they be not some of the parties, and their parents, or friends, who do as well show their ignorance as their impudency, when they affirm that they were as good servitors to Caesar as I, and that the General could not be without soldiers, as if they themselves being amutined, were not compelled to make a General amongst them. I know very well that a number would willingly command, yet there are but a few which know how to do it, neither can any perrorme that place, but such as have first learned how to obey. Whereof I may vaunt, if Caesar should have appointed the meanest of those whom I have punished to be my General, I would have had such respect & been so dutiful unto him as I ought, believing that Caesar would never have authorized him without desert: neither was I ever so presumptuous as to trust more unto my birth than unto true virtue, knowing well that Caesar favoureth none but the virtuous. Likewise, I learned both how to obey, and also what was military discipline before that ever I commanded, and never doubt that the noble are more-severe in commanding, then are the commonalty, for none is more proud than he which of a base groom becometh a gentleman. God grant the Counsel be not full of such men, and that they be not such as are more vicious than curious of the reputation of their houses. I will not argue whether Hannibal or Pompey did well, but I may truly say that Marius, as one ignoble, made the way for Pompey and Caesar to overthrow (as you say) the Roman Commonwealth: for he and Silla were examples unto the two above rehearsed. It is well known that Marius and Silla did by little and little attain unto places of dignity, being but meanly borne, yet ceased they not to be exceeding proud, hurtful, & odious unto their country. And a little before them Terentius Varo who being the son of a butcher, did by degrees attain unto the place of Consul, had not he I pray you been likely by his rashness to have caused the overthrow of Rome, if Hannibal after the discomfiture at Cannae had pursued the victory? Neither was it Hannibal that caused the ruin of Carthage, but rather the Senators, being no less severe than ambitious and cruel, who did crucify their Generals if the wars prospered not according to their minds; which was the cause that after the battle against Scipio was lost, Hannibal could not abide in safety in the city, the which (it may be) he had conserved, if the Senators had been like unto those of Rome, who were always mild, whose example all counsellors of estate ought to follow; and they would no doubt be like unto them if they did all know so well as the Senate of Rome, those occasions which are offered in the wars, to enforce a man to do such things as are unusual. Moreover, it cannot be said, that I (having been brought up amongst Spaniards, and receiving from them all favour and sincere friendship) should be ill affected towards them: but I may rather say that their courage ought to be showed against their enemies, and not against the Emperor, who is even amongst the Barbarous Almains, called the father of soldiers: you are apt to rehearse what I have done, but you tell not the cause wherefore. It is sufficient for the Chirurgeon to prove unto his patiented why he doth sometimes cut off or canterise a member; so have I certified Caesar, that the mutineers ought to be suppressed, for fear lest they should animate others to commit the like Treason. Neither have I caused them to die, witness a number that are escaped thence, & amongst others four, who did each of them bestow a bullet upon me in my lodging, but they could not touch me therewith, whom I have not only pardoned for the particular injury done unto me, but also I have further saved their lives: whereby it is easily known that I am no enemy to the Nation. Furthermore, it was not expedient to leave them unto the enemy's mercy, because that would have but fortified them, and weakened the glory and courage of the nation. Neither yet is it fit to hurt those secretly whom one intendeth to punish or chastise for the terrifying of others. As for the Romans, the number of their amutined soldiers in Spain was great, therefore they could not use extremity for fear of losing the rest of the army, and so consequently all that which the Romans held in Spain, for many of the nobility there were already revolted. Moreover, the Roman soldiers were not accustomed to rebel so often as the Spaniards, and at that time especially they had not done it if they had not supposed their Consul Scipio to be dead; and peradventure that was the first time, for such was their modesty before that time, and a long while after the overthrow of Cannae, as they (knowing the necessity of their Commonwealth) the most part of the soldiers refused to take pay, and they called those mercenaries which took the same, affirming that the good soldier ought to be as well partaker of the adversity, as prosperity of the Commonwealth: but those whom I left in the Isle was but a handful of men, the best of whom were dead before in the wars: so as the remainder were more fit to lose those fortresses where they should be left in Garrison, then to keep them, and both to corrupt the good soldiers by their example, and also to cause a whole army to mutiny. As for the wrong which therein I have done unto Spain, a man may see (setting the gentlemen apart) what soldiers do come from thence, for the best are ruffians, the others are vagabonds, and cutpurses, such as were the relics of the beadles whip, or else such as had left their ears behind them as a pawn of their honesty; and generally such, as all thieves, or very little better. So that to send soldiers forth of Spain is rather to purge and amend it then any way to impair it; for there can never be so many of the abovesaid men taken from thence, but that the prisons are always seen full, and the cities are not empty of them. And you must not affirm that they were not all faulty, seeing that in such an offence, the consenter is as worthy to be punished as the inventor: for they which would not be of that faction, might secretly withdraw themselves from them, as they know well how to do when they fly from an assault or from some other dangerous skirmish, and especially when their company is appointed to some toilsome Garrison, the which is then all closely dissembled under the colour of being Spaniards; Whereas such faults amongst the Almains are most grievously punished: but it seemeth that a man should not presume to touch the Spaniards, as if they were the only (because the latest) Christians. Let them then endure their mutinies, who are the cause thereof by detaining their pay as you affirm, as for me, I know Caesar's liberality can enrich me, therefore I have nothing to do to trouble myself with a gain no less vild than unlawful and dishonest: & it sufficeth me, that the noble and honourable men of Spain do know how well I love their nation: for I make as little account of the slander of wicked men, as I would willingly have the praise of the good, for every one commendeth such as himself is: and that which is more, I will not refuse the judgement of such of the Counsel as have commanded in the war, but from such as know nothing but by reading, I appeal unto the others aforesaid. During which appeal, I will be ready to do all the good services for Caesar as possibly as I may.    

Declamation. 93.  
Of the Matrons who are accused for poisoning the Senators.  
MArcus Claudius Marcellus, and Titus Valerius being Consuls in Rome, many of the chiefest did die, and all of one disease. Whereupon it happened that a servant or bondwoman advertised the Senate that many of the Noble women of Rome were busied in making of poison; the which they gave unto men as occasion served them, & amongst others, Cornelia and Sergia both nobly borne, were accused and found distilling the said poisons, who denying the same very firmly and stoutly, the slave requested that they might prove their innocency in drinking the waters distilled by them, but they refused so to do, one of them saying:  
GOd grant that my divination be not true, yet who will not believe, that some great alteration doth threaten the Commonwealth, Seeing that slaves (natural enemies to the Roman commonwealth) are not only permitted to accused the Noble Matrons, but also are suffered to judge them according to their own fancy; saying (and that in the presence of the Senate) drink of the water which you have distilled if you will not be accounted faulty? But what would ensue then if it were so, (as all this wicked generation of slaves have their private meetings and conference together) that they had persuaded our slaves to put some poison secretly into our distillations, seeing that there must be some time to perform the same? In drinking the same, should not we thereby lose both life and honour together? And if it should otherwise happen, that the water did us no hurt at all, what could this mischievous wretch lose, seeing that not so much as her life is her own, but at the will and discretion of him or her that hath bought her? And yet nevertheless, we should not let to be the spectacle and byword of the people. For the desire of a vild slave, our innocency shall be always suspected, and that chief amongst the common people, who do sooner conceive an evil than a good opinion; then being once imprinted in their brains, seldom or never is the same banished, But who would ever have believed that the Senate could have been so unadvised as to admit the like accusations, or to cause two Noble Matrons to appear in judgement at the only instance of a person unworthy to live? Surely any man of good judgement will be amazed thereat, but the unwise will evermore have an ill opinion of us: wherefore (our honour saved) we were better die then live, for what may be commendable in a woman except her good reputation, which surely is more worth unto her then any other riches or felicities? Behold unto what extremity we are brought, as well by this wicked woman, as by the indiscretion of the Senate? Who do not consider that although poison be distilled, yet can it not be any crime; No more than it is a fault to forge a sword, to make a bow and arrows, or to spin a halter? all which may more easily be the instruments of death than poison. But show me what law forbiddeth the making or distilling of poison? What skilleth it then if we have made deadly waters, to use them ourselves upon a necessity, for the preserving of our chastity, if the city should chance to be surdrised by enemies, or by falling into any other accident? Shall we be therefore accounted malefactors? How many waters and other compounds do we make that are hurtful to drink, as well to preserve and increase our beauty, as also for other matters no less secret than necessary? The which we would not reveal for any thing▪ For every modest woman had rather die then reveal the infirmity of their sex. And yet nevertheless it seemeth that we should be constrained publicly to reveal that which nature herself hath concealed, to the end it should he kept secret: O miserable world wherein we are borne, seeing that so little respect is had of us, and that the Senate is so fond, not only to give ear unto the enemies of the Roman Commonwealth, but also to give credit unto their slanderous reports: but what if any slave had accused Brutus to have been consenting to the practice of the conspirators? Should it have been believed, because his sons were of that faction? Should not the accuser have been executed on the cross? And yet nevertheless it is agreed that this wicked slave must command us: yea, and the Senate alloweth her commandment. But what will not these carians presume, to invent against their mistresses? And therefore O you Senators you shall at one time or another abide the penalty for the overgreat credit which you have given unto their leasings: for it is most reasonable, that those which favour the wicked, should perish by their hands. Are you yet ignorant that so many slaves as there be, so many enemies we have in Rome: and yet the Senate permitteth the wickeddest wretch of that generation to persecute the honour and life of the Roman Matrons, being but of late most worthily favoured and privileged, for their virtue and prudence. Lastly, there is enough said of a thing so unjust as this vild wretch is, who doth of her own accord condemn herself.  

The Answer of the Senat.  
AS is the common custom of women, so is your prattle tedious, and to small purpose of the matter in question: also it appeareth, and is verified in you, that the first advise of a woman is always best, and that for a present excuse they exceed men, but when they would proceed, they speak against themselves, and they quite forget what to say: even so your first excuse was best, when you made a doubt that the slaves had corrupted your distillations: but afterwards it seemeth in your going about to prove it lawful to make such waters, you do affirm that you did make them; if it be so, we are not of the opinion that you should drink them, especially if you do suspect them, but if it be otherwise, you should not do amiss by that means to prove your innocency, and procure her end that hath been your accuser: whose life although (as you say) it be none of her own, yet would she lose it as unwillingly as you would yours, the which you are no more sure of, than she is of hers, seeing that we are all at the discretion of fortune: wherefore it may be said that not only bondslaves, sick persons, sailors, and condemned men, are in danger, but also no man is certain to be free from death: neither is it well said, that we allow the commandment of a slave, but because she is likewise a woman we cannot hinder the readiness of her tongue, no more then of yours: and for the allowing of her saying to be hurtful, we may say that she hath prevented what we meant to speak: but you complain before you have cause; for on the contrary we do now demand, (since you have spoken so much) whether you think this water be venomous or no? If you think it is not, drink it? If you think that your bondwomen have poisoned the same, it must be known where they had the poison; And consequently whereof you distilled this water? Whereby it may be proved whether your drugs were able of themselves to turn into poison or no? Or what poison might corrupt them? And afterwards we will know of the rest which made of the same, whether their intention was like unto yours? For we know that there is a great number of you which do make the same, which is a great likelihood that you are all of one league: wherefore you two shall serve for a trial, seeing that you will confess no more of the matter, for the comparison of the sword with poison is odious, because the one serveth to strike our foe, & the other is to slay our friend as well as our foe. Therefore all the rest of your frivolous excuses shall not save you. But tell us freely whether these waters which you have made are venomous or no? For this we assure you, that either you must determine to drink it, or confess the truth, seeing that after the first excuse you would prove that it is lawful to make it, the which is mere false: for all hurtful and suspicious things are unlawful and criminal. And although there were no law against the same, yet ougt there one to be made; and never think that here you shall be saved for your nobleness and great calling, for the more great they are which commit such heinous acts, the greater punishment do they deserve, seeing they are the cause of greatest scandal, and especially because they are not constrained thereunto through necessity, but rather provoked by their own malicious nature: the truth than shall appear either by your own confession, or by the trial which yourselves shall make in drinking of your water.  
Here is to be noted that these two women did voluntarily drink of their water, and died, rather than they would confess the truth, which the Senators knew already: for within a few days after, more than two hundred and seventy women were condemned, and there was never before that any accusation of empoisoning.    

Declamation. 94.  
Of an Earl of Flanders, who by a wile did hang four gentlemen for a robbery.  
AN Earl of Flanders named Baldwin, and surnamed Apquin, was a very just Prince, and kept a great court. Whereupon it happened that certain Merchants being jewellers, came to visit him, and they sold him certain jewels, aterwards departing from thence, they were pursued and rob by four Gentlemen, in great favour with the Earl; who being accused by the said Merchants, and they not being able to deny the deed, the Earl was in such an exceeding rage, as he swore that he would not sleep before he saw them hanged by the neck: but the goods being restored unto the merchants, many lords and ladies came to entreat for the gentlemen being prisoners, unto whom the Earl after long suit and much entreaty, gave some good hope. Afterwards before he would go to bed, he caused the prisoners to be brought into the hall, and made four towels to be fastened to a beam, under the which he commanded a table to be set, than he said unto the prisoners, You know the oath which I have made, wherefore I will fasten these towels about your necks, than each of you list or draw up your legs in such sort, as I may say that I have seen you hanged: and afterwards setting your feet down again upon the table, you may untie the towels, and say that my oath is accomplished, but another time be better advised. The prisoners did the Earl's commandment, who seeing them well fastened to the towels, threw the table to the ground, and leaving them in that sort hanged, he shut the hall door, where, at the last they were strangled of themselves: but their kinsfolk accused the Earl before his Sovereign Lord the French King, saying:  
IF your justice and mercy most redoubted Sovereign, were not equal to your greatness, in vain should we have recourse unto your majesty, to have right of your vassal our Earl; who converteth justice into cruelty, and especially against his gentlemen, who for their virtue and valour are odious unto him, the which hate springeth of no other cause, but only of a fear which he hath, that they will not always endure his cruelties. For cruel men are naturally cowards, and consequently subject to fear, which proceedeth from the sting of their own conscience that doth secretly and continually accuse them: now how far unbeseeming cowardice and fear, is for the nature of a French man, the taking of Rome, and winning of so many Provinces, as well in Italy, as in Greece, Spain, and other countries do witness; and the rather, because this warlike Nation could never be subdued by the Romans, nor by any others, had it not been for Civil dissension amongst themselves. So that it seemeth that the men of this Nation chiefly the gentlemen, and chiefest of all he which ruseth, being neither hardy nor courageous, degene●●eth from the worthiness of that Nation, and so consequently maketh himself unworthy, as being vild and abject, the which may be seen by our Earl (if he may be so called that is an enemy of Nobility:) for what act can be more vild in a great lord then to usurp and take upon him to execute the hangman's office, and with his own hands to hang the gentlemen of his train for a light fault, which may rather be called a trick of youth? In Spain a man shall very hardly find one amongst the thieves in prison, which would promise to be a hangman five years, to save his life: Nay, in every country there are none of that office but such as are murderers or thieves. How odious then ought that office to be unto a free man; but more unto a Nobleman, and most of all unto a Prince of a country? who ought to be a spectacle unto all men, and a true pattern of Nobility? And so much the more odious is this fact, because those that are common hangmen, do execute none but such as are condemned, but these men were hanged before they were condemned; If our Earl will not affirm, that he was both accuser, judge, and hangman altogether: and that which was worst of all, he put them to death without confession, not suffering them to have only so much leisure as to unburden their consciences, but even under the colour of saving them, he hath slain them. Flaminius was accused of the Roman Censors, because he being Praetor in Gaul, caused a malefactor to be beheaded before him whilst he was at supper, and our Earl thinketh that he hath not done amiss to hang three Gentlemen betwixt his supper and his bed time, a thing far differing from the clemency required in a lord so great; for every lord that ruleth a country ought to take example by the Princes of the bees, who either have no sting at all, or if they have any, yet do they not use it. Finally (if it please your Majesty) we are not alone wronged by this fact, for your Majesty hath lost four servants, who if need had been, would not only have employed their wealth and their lives for your service, but also might have induced many others to do the like: for a valiant Gentleman draweth men's hearts after him. The Commonwealth doth lose thereby, losing those who either for your majesties service, or the country's safety, might have been conductor or leaders to the rest. Moreover, by such liberal and noble persons divers men do gain their living, and others increase their wealth, but alas all this notwithstanding they are dead, not by right, but by the Earl's rigour, who was afraid lest justice should have been done unto them: but who would not tremble in hearing it only repeated, that an Earl's hall hath served for a prison, his table for a ladder, the beam for a gibbet, and he for a hangman? And yet the same is happened, and he himself doth boast thereof, for such is the custom of those which resemble him, that of vice they make virtue, which is the greatest mischief that can happen in a Province, and chief when the same cometh from the Prince. Had it not been most reasonable first to have known whether the fault was committed, and what was the cause, with the rest of the circumstances thereof? And then to have proceeded lawfully and rightly against the offenders? But it seemed that the Earl was afraid that he should not have found neither sergeant, prison, judge, hangman, ladder, halter's, nor gallows to execute these gentlemen: for which cause he desired that all these foresaid mischiefs should be found in his hall and in his person. A man may say that I speak with small respect unto my lord, but we protest, that from henceforth we will never so account him, and if we cannot obtain from the King the hoped remedy of our due reparation, we make a vow that we, our children, parents, kindred, allies, friends, and whosoever else dependeth upon us, will rather go dwell amongst the Scythians or any other more cruel nation, than we will remain any longer under the government of a man so infamous.  

The earls Answer.  
THe same justice, mercy, and Majesty of the King which you employ against me, shall yield me reason against all you, and shall in my behalf punish you for your no less vain, then outrageous and unreverent speeches, wherefore I do not refuse the judgement of his Majesty, although the matter concerneth his highness nothing at all, in as much as those whom you speak of were no Gentlemen, but robbers and thieves, and for such have I punished them; and if any would know why I did it not after the usual manner, as there shall no reasons be wanting, so am I not bound to tell them unto any but unto such as it shall please myself: therefore I will only say that they being in that sort put to death, their ingrateful kindred towards me have received less dishonour thereby, then if they had been made a public spectacle to the people. Likewise, the nobility of Flanders are become so insolent, as they stand in no awe at all of justice, wherefore this justice no less sudden than just, will make them to bethink themselves twice, before they will commit the like offence again. Moreover, you were resolved to save them either by entreaties, or otherwise; therefore I desired to take away all occasion to add unto their death, not only yours, but also other men's destructions, for he may be termed wise and virtuous, which by one small mischief can eschew far greater mischances: but he that doth never so great good unto the ingrateful, receiveth nothing but hate and reproach for his reward: even so hath it happened to me herein. If you who say that you are noble, did know what nobility is, and wherein it consisteth, you would say that these robbers were no Gentlemen, seeing that gentility cannot be grounded but only upon virtue, and as thereby the base borne attain to nobility, even so he which continueth not therein, loseth that nobility which his father hath left him, to the intent that he should be virtuous: for nothing is more pernicious in a Commonwealth than he who doth falsely usurp the title of Nobility. I do demand of you whether the son of a good musician may inherit his father's cunning & renown, chiefly to be a good musician, without learning and thoroughly exercising of music? It seemeth not, if then in an art of so small consequence a man cannot attain unto the fame or faculty of his father, without he be the same in effect, although it should not prejudice the Commonwealth in any sort; how then can they inherit nobility, who make no proof thereof by virtue, by the which our ancestors have gained it? If nobility came but by descent, it would be no less weak, then of small continuance, considering the multitude of those that die in the wars; but virtue which doth thereby nobilitate others, doth still maintain the same. I have then caused these villains to die secretly for the respect I had unto their kindred, who desired to remain noble in following virtue, for those which do serve from it, a man may rightly say that nobility doth end in them, and they which follow it cannot choose but be noble indeed: the which Cicero knew very well how to apply when Claudius said unto him that he was no gentleman; Truly (said he) in me doth the nobility of my race begin to bud, as in you the gentry of your stock is already blasted. And since that I being so exceedingly bound unto virtue, as God hath made me by birth more noble and greater than any other of my country, I have done but my duty in executing good, speedy, and short justice: for justice surely is not the least kind of virtue, and not to execute justice were cruelty, wherefore I am not cruel, much less a coward, neither do they speak the truth which do say that I am an enemy to gentlemen, or that I fear them, but I am indeed an enemy to the vicious, and I fear lest they should hurt the good, or that they should be corrupted by them: now have I been their executioner or hangman as you affirm, but they themselves according to their deserts have been the butchers of their own lives; and were it otherwise, yet is he rather a hangman which robbeth or killeth an honest man, them is he which executeth malefactors. This Spanish pity proceedeth of no other cause, but only for that they would not execute those which are of their profession, yet to betray or murder good men they are nothing scrupulous. The Prince of a country cannot show any better example then in performing justice, the which I have done: And know you that the judges are not necessary, but where the Prince is not present: for proof whereof, Solomon himself judged causes, yet no other but the King can judge me. As for Flaminius, he put a condemned man to death upon pleasure, only to content an harlot, but I have executed four to observe justice. But for any service that they might have done for the King, a man may as well say the like of all other thieves: for such people can easily assemble a great number of such worthless & lewd fellows as they are. Likewise, it is not a small mischief that prodigality is wrongfully held for liberality, as if the prodigal did not commit a thousand mischiefs, to get wherewith to perform their follies, as these four did, who by their prodigality became thieves. Wherefore it may be affirmed, that they and such as would maintain them, are those that esteem vice to be virtue, and villains to be Gentlemen. As for the small respect that you have used in slandering me, it is therein that I may show my clemency, for it is true Magnanimity to pardon great faults, especially when none is offended thereby, by only he which pardoneth the same, as I do not only pardon you, but also do further beseech the King not to punish you, because it may be at your own choice either to remain in your country or to forsake the same; not for that I care for such subjects as you are which disdain me to be their lord, but because I would not against my custom show myself rigorous towards those, who being overcome by passion, do but offend me in words, & the rather because they which speak more than they should, do thereby but procure their own shame. And to conclude, there is no reason that you should be believed concerning the dead; But it may please the King's Majesty to be better informed upon this matter, if it shall not like his highness to credit those informations as are most true, which I do here present unto his gracious hands, binding myself unto any satisfaction, if in aught I have swerved from justice.    

Declamation. 95.  
Of a Jew, who would for his debt have a pound of the flesh of a Christian.  
A jew unto whom a Christian Merchant ought nine hundred crowns, would have summoned him for the same in Turckie: the Merchant because he would not be discredited, promised to pay the said sum within the term of three months, and if he paid it not, he was bound to give him a pound of the flesh of his body. The term being past some fifteen days, the jew refused to take his money, and demanded the pound of flesh: the ordinary judge of that place appointed him to cut a just pound of the Christians flesh, and if he cut either more or less, than his own head should be smitten off: the jew appealed from this sentence, unto the chief judge, saying:  
IMpossible is it to break the credit of traffic amongst men without great detriment unto the Commonwealth: wherefore no man ought to bind himself unto such covenants which he cannot or will not accomplish, for by that means should no man fear to be deceived, and credit being maintained, every man might be assured of his own; but since deceit hath taken place, never wonder if obligations are made more rigorous & strict than they were wont, seeing that although the bonds are made never so strong, yet can no man be very certain that he shall not be a loser. It seemeth at the first sight, that it is a thing no less strange than cruel, to bind a man to pay a pound of the flesh of his body, for want of money: Surely, in that it is a thing not usual, it appeareth to be somewhat the more admirable, but there are divers others that are more cruel, which because they are in use seem nothing terrible at all: as to bind all the body unto a most loathsome prison, or unto an intolerable slavery, where not only the whole body but also all the senses and spirits are tormented, the which is commonly practised, not only betwixt those which are either in sect or Nation contrary, but also even amongst those that are all of one sect and nation, yea amongst neighbours and kindred, & even amongst Christians it hath been seen, that the son hath imprisoned the father for money. Likewise, in the Roman Commonwealth, so famous for laws and arms, it was lawful for debt, to imprison, beat, and afflict with torments the free Citizens: How many of them (do you think) would have thought themselves happy, if for a small debt they might have been excused with the payment of a pound of their flesh? Who ought then to maruile if a jew requireth so small a thing of a Christian, to discharge him of a good round sum? A man may ask why I would not rather take silver of this man, than his flesh: I might allege many reasons, for I might say that none but myself can tell what the breach of his promise hath cost me, and what I have thereby paid for want of money unto my creditors, of that which I have lost in my credit: for the misery or those men which esteem their reputation, is so great, that oftentimes they had rather endure any thing secretly then to have their discredit blazed abroad, because they would not be both shamed and harmed. Nevertheless, I do freely confess, that I had rather lose a pound of my flesh, than my credit should be in any sort cracked: I might also say that I have need of this flesh to cure a friend of mine of a certain malady, which is otherwise incurable, or that I would have it to terrify thereby the Christians for ever abusing the jews any more hereafter: but I will only say, that by his obligation he oweth it me. It is lawful to kill a soldier if he come unto the wars but an hour too late, and also to hang a thief though he steal never so little: is it then such a great matter to cause such a one to pay a pound of his flesh, that hath broken his promise many times, or that putteth another in danger to lose both credit & reputation, yea and it may be life and all for grief? were it not better for him to lose that which I demand, than his soul, already bound by his faith? Neither am I to take that which he oweth me, but he is to deliver it me: And especially because no man knoweth better than he where the same may be spared to the least hurt of his person, for I might take it in such a place as he might thereby happen to lose his life: what a matter were it then, if I should cut of his privy members, supposing that the same would altogether weigh a just pound? Or else his head, should I be suffered to cut it off, although it were with the danger of mine own life? I believe I should not; because there were as little reason therein, as there could be in the amends whereunto I should be bound: or else if I would cut off his nose, his lips, his ears, and pull out his eyes, to make of them altogether a pound, should I be suffered? Surely I think not, because the obligation doth not specify that I ought either to choose, cut, or take the same, but that he ought to give me a pound of his flesh. Of every thing that is sold, he which delivereth the same is to make weight, and he which receiveth, taketh heed that it be just: seeing than that neither the obligation, custom, nor law doth bind me to cut, or weigh, much less unto the above mentioned satisfaction, I refuse it all, and require that the same which is due should be delivered unto me.  

The Christians Answer.  
IT is no strange matter to here those dispute of equity which are themselves most unjust; and such as have no faith at all, desirous that others should observe the same inviolable, the which were yet the more tolerable, if such men would be contented with reasonable things, or at the least not altogether unreasonable: but what reason is there that one man should unto his own prejudice desire the hurt of another? as this jew is content to lose nine hundred crowns to have a pound of my flesh, whereby is manifestly seen the ancient and cruel hate which he beareth not only unto Christians, but unto all others which are not of his sect: yea, even unto the Turks, who overkindly do suffer such vermin to dwell amongst them, seeing that this presumptuous wretch dare not only doubt, but appeal from the judgement of a good and just judge, & afterwards he would by sophistical reasons prove that his abomination is equity: truly I confess that I have suffered fifteen days of the term to pass, yet who can tell whether he or I is the cause thereof, as for me I think that by secret means he hath caused the money to be delayed, which from sundry places ought to have come unto me before the term which I promised unto him; Otherwise, I would never have been so rash as to bind myself so strictly: but although he were not the cause of the fault, is it therefore said, that he ought to be so impudent as to go about to prove it no strange matter that he should be willing to be paid with man's flesh, which is a thing more natural for Tigers, than men, the which also was never heard of: but this devil in shape of a man, seeing me oppressed with necessity propounded this accursed obligation unto me. Whereas he allegeth the Romans for an example, why doth he not as well tell on how for that cruelty in afflicting debtors over grievously, the Commonwealth was almost overthrown, and that shortly after it was forbidden to imprison men any more for debt. To break promise is, when a man sweareth or promiseth a thing, the which he hath no desire to perform, which yet upon an extreme necessity is some what excusable; as for me, I have promised, and accomplished my promise, yet not so soon as I would; and although I knew the danger wherein I was to satisfy the cruelty of this mischievous man with the price of my flesh and blood, yet did I not fly away, but submitted myself unto the discretion of the judge who hath justly repressed his beastliness. Wherein then have I falsefied my promise, is it in that I would not, (like him) disobey the judgement of the judge? Behold I will present a part of my body unto him, that he may pay himself, according to the contents of the judgement, where is then my promise broken? But it is no marvel if this race be so obstinate and cruel against us, for they do it of set purpose to offend our God whom they have crucified: and wherefore? Because he was holy, as he is yet so reputed of this worthy Turkish nation: but what shall I say? Their own bible is full of their rebellion against God, against their Priests, judges, & leaders. What did not the very patriarchs themselves, from whom they have their beginning? They sold their brother, and had it not been for one amongst them, they had slain him even for very envy. How many adulteries and abominations were committed amongst them? How many murders? Absalon did not he cause his brother to be murdered? Did he not persecute his father? Is it not for their iniquity that God hath dispersed them, without leaving them one only foot of ground? If then, when they had newly received their law from God, when they saw his wondrous works with their eyes, and had yet their judges amongst them, they were so wicked, What may one hope of them now, when they have neither faith nor law, but their rapines and usuries? And that they believe they do a charitable work, when they do some great wrong unto any that is not a jew? It may please you then most righteous judge to consider all these circumstances, having pity of him who doth wholly submit himself unto your just clemency: hoping thereby to be delivered from this monster's cruelty.    

Declamation. 96.  
Of Palamedes, who was accused by Ulysses that he meant to betray the Grecians.  
AT such time as the Grecians assembled themselves together to go unto the wars of Troy, Ulysses King of Ithaca because he would not go thither, feigned himself mad: and the better to colour his deceit, he himself held the plough tilling of a barren piece of land, but Palamedes very well perceived his subtlety, and to make it known unto the rest that were sent, he took young Telemachus, the only son of Ulysses and Penelope, and laid him in the way where the horses and plough which Ulysses did drive should pass, who turning the horses aside because he would not hurt his son, his dissembling was discovered, and he constrained to go unto the wars with the rest of the Grecian Princes. Wherefore they being at the siege of Troy, Ulysses the better to be revenged of him, found the means to bury a certain quantity of gold under the tent or pavilion of Palamedes, at that corner which stood next unto Troy. Within a while after he accused him, saying that he had received treasure from the Troyans' to betray the Grecians. After long disputations and much arguing, the hidden gold was found. But yet Palamedes did stoutly defend himself against the accusation of Ulysses, who said thus:  
O Immortal gods, O heaven, O earth, and you other Elements, O you planets and stars, true witnesses of my just sorrow, and you men partakers of this great mischief, (if it had not been discovered) give ear unto the words, which unto my great grief I am constrained to utter. Who would ever have thought that any of the Grecian princes had had so vild a heart as that he would for gold seek to betray his companions, together with their allies and subjects? but alas contrary to the expectation of all, the same is entered into the heart of one only. O gods, our conseruors, I render unto you immortal thanks, for bringing me (in a manner against my will) unto these wars, seeing that I must be your instrument to save all this army, pretending to perform a most just cause, and yet nevertheless betrayed by one of the princes thereof. It is not said in vain, that those which serve the gods, do by their grace obtain wisdom, and become familiar with them; even so I, who from my youth have been so happy as to admire, contemplate, and honour their deities, have received this recompense therefore, as that my heart doth most commonly foretell me what mischiefs shall ensue: therefore I was in doubt to come unto this war, seeing that I did as it were perceive that all the army should be in danger to be lost by Treason: but it hath pleased the gods to make me the means to disclose the traitor; but must I tell who it is? Yes surely, for our country's weal is to be preferred before all friendship, profit, or any other benefit: Wherefore I protest unto the gods, and before this honourable assembly, that if mine own son were partaker of this Treason, & none but myself did know thereof, I would not only accuse him, but I would also cast the first stone at him to stone him to death, as well for my country's safety as for because he had in such sort stained our stock: nevertheless noble princes and you Grecian people, I beseech you for the reward of this my service, that he whom I shall truly name may serve for an everlasting example of the Grecians clemency by saving his life, the which amongst great princes is nothing so much esteemed as honour: for the remembrance of his fault will be a punishment severe enough, and the granting unto him his life, will enforce him to employ the same to achieve some notable act, thereby to extinguish the memory of his passed lault, so that your pity shall bring you a double fruit, that is to say, profit, and glory. Grant then my request O you Grecians, whereof I am not unworthy, considering the maniefold good services which I have done for you, by the which I do conjure you, as also by those which I may hereafter perform, if you do bind me by this gracious favour which I do entreat of you. Alas, I perceive you are all silent, but I know not whether it is because you are astonished at the strangeness of the matter, or else (which the gods forbidden) because none of you will condescend unto the intercession which I make for him whom you do not yet know? If you will not wholly grant my request herein, yet at the least assure me that the chastisement shall not be equal to the crime, but that the rigour of law shall be mitigated by lenity. You make no answer at all, Grecians, wherefore I fear me lest this danger will draw you unto over great rigour: surely the fault is great, but in pardoning the same your mercy shall be the more esteemed, for it is a common thing to pardon small offences, and it behoveth those that are noble and great men to pardon those faults as are of great importance such as this is; Trust me, if you continue your silence any longer, you will provoke me also to hold my peace, for as I would be glad to save the whole army, so would I be sorry to cause the death of any of the princes. But I plainly perceive that I must take your silence as a token of your consent, and so consequently that the zeal of the Commonwealth and the safety of all you, aught to be preferred before the assurance which I require: mark then my words well without passion, which I fear to be too true: It is so that some of our secret friends which are in Troy (whom I would not credit, if I did not thorough lie know their integrity) have assured me that Palamedes during these ordinary skirmishes, hath under the colour of fight with the enemies, contracted with them to burn the Grecian Navy, to the end that the army being void of all succours or hope, should he laid open for the enemy, and to bring the same to pass, he hath received great sums of gold from them. It behoveth you therefore (O you Grecians) to make diligent search, and to be thoroughly informed whether the accusation be true, or that the Troyans' have feigned the same only of set purpose, to weaken our forces by the loss of a man so famous, or to set us at discord together, or whether Palamedes have taken this gold for any other intent, as for to diminish their store by so much or else to work some other stratagem thereby. I thought it good to declare this openly in the presence of all men, to the end that some assuaging the rage of the rest, you might altogether with one mind endeavour to sift out the truth of the deed, of the which labour Palamedes might ease you by confessing the matter, and for what intent he hath received this coin, if he will not have us to search his ship, or else where, for the said gold, the which being once found without his confession, would greatly increase his crime. Wherefore advise him in the way of friendship not to imagine that the same can be hidden from Argos, which signifieth no other thing then the eyes of the multitude, who do see many things, which are supposed to be very secret. O how miserable are those that persevere in mischief, because they are persuaded the same shall never be manifest! For even when they think they are most safest, then oftentimes either they themselves, or else those in whom they put most confidence, do bewray them▪ in such sort, as over late repentance and sudden punishment do both fall upon them at once. But this is the mischief, that ambition persuadeth those which follow the same, that all things how wicked soever they be, are lawful, and that abundance doth nothing but increase avarice, which of itself is insatiable. Do you then Palamedes show your▪ self to be free from these vices, and in showing by effectual reasons that your intent was sound, you may free us from this suspicion, considering that if you do otherwise, the Grecians are no less ready to punish obstinate traitors, then courageous to fight against their Trojan enamies. And let not passion O you Grecians cause you to forget my former words spoken of pure zeal, only for your preservation.  

Palamedes his answer.  
O Radhamant, Minos, and Aeacus, just judges of the infernal places, O Plute, and Proserpina, monarchs of the darksome mansions, thou Nemesis goddess of revenge, and you hellish hags, Alecte, Thesephone, and Megaera, torments of sinful souls, cease your torturing of Tantalus, Ixion, Sisyphus, the Belides, Prometheus, and all the other damned souls in perpetual torments, to employ your justice, your power, your revenge, and all your extremest fury against this perverse wicked Traitor, who harboureth no less mischief in his heart then malice in his tongue. O immortal gods, how can you suffer such iniquity? O earth why do you not open under the feet of this abominable wretch to swallow him up? O you worthy Grecians, how can you hope for happy success in your most just war, so long as this devil in the shape of a man remaineth amongst you? Who is he, that can beware of his Treasons? who can ever defend himself from his malicious practices? Which do worthily persecute me, in that I am the cause that this poison in man's likeness is come with us to infect the souls, courages, and the noble nature of the Grecians, animating them unjustly against those, who are both just and righteous: Alas, it is a true saying, that a good man is no longer in safety than he pleaseth a traitor: the which saying may be verified by me, who thinking that I had done well for all the Grecian Nation, have provoked against myself the unjust vengeance of this mischievous man, who endeavoureth to work my shameful overthrow. Forbear a while, O you Grecians, the unjust rage which you have conceived against me, by the most venomous tongue of Ulysses, until that I make you know what falsehood he useth against me, wherein he hath not failed to employ all his devilish subtlety: First I would have you to consider how in the beginning of his oration, he seeketh to ravish the minds of the hearers unto a certain admiration, with a desire speedily to understand that which he would say; then seeing their souls so doubtful, he stirreth them up unto anger and fear persuading them that they are all in great danger; afterwards by a feigned hypocrisy, he would make them believe that he is familiar with the gods, foreseeing all future mischiefs; but in effect he foreseeth none at all, but those which himself intendeth to do (as he hath caused this gold to be hidden where it was found) and lastly he bringeth an example saying: that in such a case he would not spare his own son, by that means endeavouring to persuade them to stone me; having once imprinted it in your hearts, he feigneth himself desirous to save me, knowing very well that all his counterfeit speeches tend to no other end but only to animate you against me, nevertheless fearing lest he had moved you unto some pity, he first setteth down the chastisement before he nameth me, & then he somewhat doubtfully affirmeth his saying to be true, urging me to confess that which never was: Whereof I take to witness both the celestial, and infernal gods, just revengers of committed treasons, imploring their most just vengeance against him that did never before this present hour know that any gold sent from the Troyans' was in our camp. But you may believe (O you Grecians) that Ulysses to be revenged of me for discovering his deceit, when he feigned himself mad because he would not come unto the wars, that he I say (as himself affirmeth) having been oftentimes within the city of Troy, where he hath his intelligences, did bring this gold from thence, and whilst I was in the battle he did bury the same under my pavilion; the which as it is not the first treason which he hath plotted, so will it not be the last that he intendeth to perform, if you do but suffer him therein, for sure he is one of those, who in doing evil do imagine their evil deeds will never be espied, because he hath so great a confidence in his foxlike sleights, that there is no wickedness which he dare not attempt: and the gods grant O Grecians, that he do not one day commit the same treason which he falsely objecteth against me. To conclude, I pray you worthy Grecians thoroughly to consider all my passed actions, and to believe that I had rather endure the cruelest death that might be imagined, than I should ever have had the thought to commit any Treason. Be you then assured, that what good or hurt soever you shall do unto me, it shall be done unto such a one as never thought upon any thing but what was for the common good of our country, the which I have evermore preferred before mine own commodity.  
Notwithstanding the denial of Palamedes, he was stoned.    

Declamation. 97.  
Of the Roman Dictator, who would have put the master of the horsemen to death, because he fought against his commandment.  
LVcius Papirius Cursor, being created the two and fortieth Dictator in Rome, to make war against the Samnites, Quintus Fabius Rutilianus was made Master of the horse, being a young and valiant gentleman. It chanced after a certain battle, and the taking of some cities, that the Dictator went to Rome to mark the disposition of the air, thereby to know what luck they should have, leaving the said Master of the horse in the camp, with express commandment that he should not attempt any thing until his return; But he being departed, there was so fair an occasion offered, as Fabius gave the battle, and won it wholly, afterwards having caused all the arms of the dead enemies to be burned, he wrote unto the Senate of his victory, neglecting the Dictator; who being returned unto the camp, he delivered him into the hands of the Lictor, to be beaten with rods, and to strike off his head, but as his apparel was pulling off he escaped, hiding him amongst the soldiers, and afterwards by night fled unto Rome, whether the Dictator followed him, and having caused him to be brought before his judgement seat, he would have condemned him again, but the father of Fabius accompanying him in mourning weeds, and having recommended him unto the people, took upon him the defence of his son, saying.  
HOw great the misery of man is, may appear by the lineage of the Fabiuses, who have been evermore troubled for the zeal which they had unto the Commonwealth. First, Quintus Fabius having done many worthy acts, as well at home with his Counsel, as abroad in the wars, by his courage, died in fight against the Tuscans, where all the Fabians were noted to be famous, and especially Marcus Fabius, who caused the Roman soldiers to swear not to give over fight unless they were conquerors, and being seconded by Ceson, Fabius making head against his enemy, brought the Romans back again, who contrary to their oath were ready to turn their backs, which in the end was the cause of the victory: and because all that lineage was careful to cherish, and heal the wounded soldiers, they were esteemed and suspected to be Plebeians. I cease to report what they did both before and after: but I will only tell how they took upon them an enterprise that they alone would defend Rome from the insolency of the Veians, and there issued forth together three hundred and six kinsmen, who died all in the said defence, and there remained no more of all the Fabians alive but my father, that was in Rome, who alas hath since that time replenished the world, and restored unto the Commonwealth, this no less miserable than noble lineage. How much better had it been for him to have died with the rest, if we must always for our good service be subject to the reproaches of some, or to the persecution of other, or rather since we are no less troubled in resisting the malice of the Citizens than we are in fight against our enemies; behold my son here who having vanquished the enemy, is adjudged to die by the Dictator: and wherefore? Because he hath done that which the Commonwealth not only desired, but also that which it most stood in need of: He is the conqueror, & now alas it is thought expedient that a shameful and violent death should be a reward of his conquest, at the will and pleasure of one only man. The Patricians and people rejoice at his victory, enjoying the benefit thereof, the soldier is partaker of the same, and the Dictator alone would have him to die, as if the Commonwealths good were his hurt, or as if a Patricians renown were his reproach, or as if the glory of the master of the horse did not increase the worthiness of the Dictator▪ Surely, if the Romans take this course (which the gods forbidden) they need no other enemies but themselves. Marcus Furius Camillus, that great protector of Rome, did not only succour Lucius Fuluius (who fought against his intention) but also made him partaker of his victory, and shortly after did choose him for his companion in the wars of Tuscula, such was the magnanimity of this great Roman, redeemer of his country, to excuse the faults which are committed by youth: for he did very well know, that there was no less courage in him to pardon a great offence, then to combat and overcome a great army of enemies. Do you then noble Dictator imitate that most worthy man, Despise not the whole Senate that requesteth you, refuse not the Patricians, the Tribune's, & the people also, that entreat you, nor yet me a miserable old man and father to this poor young man, who yet may accomplish many worthy and good services for his country, if together with his life, you cut not off the course of his virtuous acts; consent them unto some of our requests, or else grant unto us all his life that is worthy to live, and as you yourself have had him in very great estimation, making him General of the horse, so now give him his life, and bind us all unto you for the same▪ If not, you will constrain me to appeal unto the Tribune's, and to have recourse unto the people of Rome, who may do more than your Dictatorship. I will see if you will give place unto such an appeal, as did the Roman King Tullius Hostilius? or since you cannot triumph over the enemies, whether you will violently triumph over the death of the conqueror? I have been Dictator as well as you, but yet did I never offend any private soldier, or other inferior Plebeian; for I know how that dignity or office is given to preserve the Romans, and not to destroy or hurt any of them; how much less than a captain of good desert in the Commonwealth? A man may hereby see what difference there is betwixt the modesty of our ancestors, and the pride of this presentage, for besides that deed of Furius Camillus, it is known that Quintus Cincinatus used no cruelty against Lucius Minutius, for freeing himself from that place where by his rashness he was besieged, but left him Legate in the camp, even then when he went to Rome. Yea, the people who have all authority do never condemn any captain unto death, as it appeareth by Virginius and Sergius, and divers others, who having lost battles, camps, and soldiers, have been thereof acquitted, or at the most but fined in a certain sum of money, where as now one that ought as a conqueror to triumph, is threatened by the Dictator with rods and the axe: what would he then do if he had lost the battle? Would he not trow you condemn all the Fabians, and all the soldiers which were escaped from the battle? Now when this conqueror ought to be a spectacle of happiness unto all the city, being accompanied with his friends to render thanks unto the gods for his victory, they stand here round about him to bewail his misery, and to beg mercy of the Dictator to save his life. O gods will you thus forsake him, who by your favour hath vanquished the enemies of your temples? And you Patricians can you leave him that is by birth such as you are? And you soldiers, will you abandon him that hath led you unto to all martial glory? And you people can you condemn him that is yet in danger of his life, having already adventured the same for the safety of your houses, and the sepulchres of your ancestors? For the defence of you, your wines, children, and whatsoever else is most dear and acceptable unto you? Will you suffer the enemies to have such a pleasure done them, O you soldiers, as that your captain, and he under whom you have conquered, should be punished even by his countrymen, as the most pernicious Traitor that ever was in the world? O immortal gods, let me die, before so many miseries do happen.  

The answer of Papirius.  
Believe me Fabius I do greatly pity thy sons youth, and more thy age: yet all that can only move me to compassion, but not to pardon a fault so unworthy to be forgiven; the which I would most willingly do, if the injury had been offered unto me, but being done unto the gods, to the Commonwealth, to the Magistrate, and to martial discipline, what can I do less (seeing O you Romans you have thought me worthy of the highest authority) then execute condign punishment therefore? Will you that for one man's sake alone, both the wars and the Magistrate should lose, the one his authority, and the other his discipline? Were it not better that one man alone should die, than all the rest above said should decay▪ As the Fabians have in times past done many worthy facts, so also are they not free from a number of faults; for I doubt whether it was virtue or rashness in them, to undertake alone such an enterprise against the Veians, thereby depriving the Commonwealth at one instant of so many men of that worth as you esteem them: it cannot be denied but their overweening to increase their own reputation, did greatly diminish the Commonwealth and much advantage the enemy thereof. But why do you not as well speak of the three Fabians that were sent Ambassadors unto the Gauls to Clusa? Was not their rashness the cause of the ruin of Rome? As the like might have happened by this man here, had he not been more fortunate than well advised. And thus much further I will say, that by how much they which offend are of great birth and noble parentage, by so much are they more worthy of punishment, for their greatness maketh the fault a long time after more famous, and being left unpunished, they incite a number of others to do the like: Do you not think that Marcus Manlius would else have forgiven the youthful folly and valiant towardness of his son? whom he would rather put to death than it should be said that by him were lost the ancient military discipline. In like sort Brutus the author of the Roman freedom, preferred the same before his children's lives, who were executed by justice. Do you imagine Fabius, that they loned not their children so well as you? Surely they did: but it seemeth that you do less affect the Commonwealth than they: for here you care not to see the Empire of the Roman people wronged, which surely is invincible, so long as it shall follow the ancient customs, observe military discipline, and maintain the authority of the Dictator, a most high office, & the only and last refuge, when all other remedies fail. As for me I cannot make this authority perpetual, yet I will beware that by me it be not contaminated, as also I desire that the sovereignty of the Tribune's (being of itself inviolable) would not endeavour by their intercessions, to violate the Roman Empire. I do likewise entreat the people that they would not in me suffer the power of the Dictator to decay; to the end that hereafter they do not too late repent when they shall know that by their fault the soldier will no more obey the Centurion, nor the Centurion the martial Tribune, nor the Tribune the Legate, nor the Legate the Consul nor the Master of the horse the Dictator, and that no body will show any duty at all either to men, or to the gods. All the rest as Lucius Fuluius, and Lucius Minutius, were the companions of their Colleagues, wherefore it is not said in vain, that he which hath a companion, hath a master, they then fought not against the commandment, but against the will of their Colleagues, as being equal with them in authority. But who can deny that I had not the power, and that I did not command him not to fight during my absence. The young Torquatus was judged to die by his father only for hazarding his own person, and you would excuse Fabius who by his rashness did endanger all the camp, yea, the whole Commonwealth; for the more you prize his victory, the more is the danger apparent whereunto he brought the Commonwealth. If such faults may be borne withal, who will not henceforth stick to run from his Ensign? Who will have care to come when he is commanded? Wherefore shall not the soldier fight against his captains will, when the master of the horse hath not only fought contrary to the commandment of the Dictator, but also in contempt of his authority hath burned the enemies, and did not once advertise him of any thing thereof after the deed? But hath endeavoured to animate the soldiers to defend him against the Dictator, and afterwards did by force escape from the Lictor, and would not obey any summons, but fled unto Rome, stirring up the People, Tribunes, and Patricians to favour him. I know not what else to say, saving that (manifest tyranny excepted) there could not a more heinous crime have been committed. So that to conclude, I will say, that you may by force save him from death, but as for me, I declare and protest that I neither will nor may acquit him.  
Know that at these words, all the people began to entreat the Dictator for his life, wherefore without pardoning the fault, he frankly gave him unto the people.    

Declamation. 98.  
Of the disherited son, who claimed to have his inheritance again of the heirs of him, unto whom his father had given them.  
A Certain man disherited his son upon a just cause, and gave his lands unto another man, who lying dead sick, said that he would have the inheritance which was given him to return to the disherited son. Whereupon some few days after he died before the notary (which he had sent for) was come, so as although there was nothing left in writing, yet did not there want witnesses to testify for the said son, who demanded his inheritance, saying:  
WHo is he so ignorant which will believe that my father would ever have dishenrited me in good earnest, but that he rather made this deceased man to promise that he should restore my land unto me after a certain time; for the kindness of fathers doth always exceed the malice of the children, because that natural love is more ready to descend then to ascend, as well for the instability of youth as for the constancy that remaineth in age, who knoweth & doth well remember that he hath done amiss in his youth: and like as God naturally loveth man far more than man loveth him (the which is known by his divine bounty towards us, and our ingratitude towards him) so the father may well be angry with his son, but what show soever he maketh thereof, yet can he not hate him, for it should be contrary to the law of nature: who will then imagine that my father (being by nature mild and courteous towards all men) could ever have been so cruel against his own son? All these reasons abovesaid are most manifest, but were it so that my father had absolutely given away his possessions, and mine inheritance unto this dead man, yet did he before his death restore the same again unto me, being either in conscience or kindness moved thereunto: but had he not more reason and liberty to give it to me, then my father had to take it from me? You say that nothing appeareth in writing, for what end should writings serve without witnesses? Do we not know that the paper endureth all things, and the parchment much more? wherefore the word of the testator and the authority of the witnesses is sufficient. What if the Notary after he had made the Will were dead, must we not then have had our recourse unto witnesses? Wherefore seeing the notary did not come time enough (it may be because some of you stayed him) shall not the witness of such persons as are worthy to be believed, serve the turn, who did hear the deceased man say that he would have the said land to return unto me, and for that effect did he send for the Notary. It is at the end of the life, that a man doth chiefly seek to discharge his conscience, and then or else never is the truth spoken: wherefore it is most evident that this inheritance doth infallibly appertain unto me: and therefore I do demand to have the same by friendship, and if so it may not be, then must I request it by justice.  

The Answer.  
YOur father is not the first that hath disherited his son, it may be because he was more honest than you, and there is no likelihood and less certainty that he hath caused this man to restore unto you the inheritance, but if it be so as you say, then prove it, for there is no reason to credit your words being such an one as you have compelled your father to do that which you cannot believe; yet to prove that this is so, the effect maketh mention. We believe that your father's clemency was great, which (it may be) was the chiefest cause why he desired to deprive you of all means to become any more vicious, for some such as you are do live better when they are poor, then when they are rich, wherefore you father in this was desirous to imitate our God, who doth all things for the best, although our nature is so corrupt as we cannot comprehend the same. Likewise we must consider, that the father is not easily brought to hate his son, but when he is enforced thereunto, then is he more hard to be entreated or reconciled then a stranger, & the more slow men are to become angry, the more great and terrible is their wrath when it happ●eth; even so hath it been with your father, whom you affirm to be naturally mild and courteous: think then what violence he did unto himself, before he had taken this irrevocable resolution against you. So that your reasons seem very frivolous, and chiefly when you say that this deceased man (being provoked by the foresaid reasons, or by his own conscience) hath restored unto you those lands and goods which your father gave unto him: his conscience could not be burdened, seeing that nothing can be more truly gotten then that which cometh by gift: likewise, therein he should but alter the meaning of your father and his benefactor, for it is very likely that he did give those goods unto him and his heirs, why then should he seek to defraud them to give it unto such a one who by his own father was judged unworthy thereof? His ingratitude thereby would be too manifest: but had he therein been so advised, yet hath not the effect thereof ensued (whether it were Gods doing or his own meaning that so it should not be.) For men in the anguish of their sickness do oftentimes speak many things which they would not in any sort perform. The witnesses may bear testimony of his words, but not of his Will, the which also ought to be of no force, since the patiented lived but a few days after▪ for a true and lawful testament ought to be made when a man is of good disposition and memory as well in body as in mind▪ lastly, since nothing is written, there needeth no witnesses, but he that could have been a witness of that which he would have declared if the Notary had been there present, should perchance have heard him tell the reasons why your father gave him those goods, as also unto whom he meant to leave them, but having said neither one thing nor another, they are ours as rightful heirs: and therefore we will defend them by all possible and lawful means.    

Declamation. 99  
Of two Citizens that were tortured, the one for demanding a debt, the other for denying the same.  
THe law commandeth, that all perjured persons should be put to death. Whereupon it happened that one Citizen summoned another, saying that he ought him a certain sum of money, the which he said he had lent him upon his own word, and thereupon he took a solemn oath before the justice that his saying was true: the other denied that he ever received any money of him, and did likewise swear that he ought him nothing, so that necessarily one of the twain must be forsworn, and so consequently guilty and worthy of death. Whereupon the defendant as being most suspected, is put unto the rack: but he still affirmed that he ought nothing. The plaintiff was afterwards likewise racked, who did also still avouch that he did owe it him. Nevertheless, after they had both twain been tortured three several times, they were put both together in prison, where they agreed no more than they did before, but each of them particularly made a request, The first said that he was content to acquit the debt justly due, that he might be delivered; the other said that he wat content to pay that which he never ought, to come forth of prison; but the justice would have sent them back unto the rack, until the truth were known. From the which sentence they both appealed, saying:  
THere aught to be some difference between justice and cruelty, and yet (O you judges) you make no difference at all, for you use the innocent as badly as the offender; & which is far more worse, you take away the credit that ought to be amongst Citizens, & the use of such intercourse as they are to have one with another, for there had been some other means to have executed justice, without bringing us into such extreme danger, where it may be the innocent shall perish: each of us do say that we are innocent, nevertheless, though one must needs be guilty, yet can we not both be faulty: What then if the innocent, as being the weakest should yield, and confess the fault which he never committed, choosing for the least evil rather to die once wrongfully, then to be any more tortured, and afterwards to live either a maimed cripple, or to pine away with pain, & so it may chance that the guiltless shall suffer for the guilty, losing both his life, goods, and reputation, & on the contrary, the malefactor shall have both his life and credit saved, and live in good account to the great detriment of the Commonwealth; for being accustomed unto torments, who shall let him to swear that any man is indebted unto him, or that he is not indebted at all, when no man dare once offer to prove it upon him, so that there shall be no villainy which he dare not commit. If you say that he shall never have any great credit, but that he shall be still suspected, as well amongst the Citizens as with the judges, you may say also that the innocent though he remain the conqueror, yet shall he be likewise suspected, & the loss of his reputation shall be the reward for his maintaining the same with such exceeding torments. Wherefore (saving the reverence we own unto your lordships) we suppose that it had been better not to have proceeded unto these extremities, but before you had caused either of us to swear particularly, you should have demanded whether any of us would have been content to stand unto the word or oath of his companion, showing in general what danger the offender did bring both his body and soul into. Likewise, both the one and the other might have been examined touching the circumstances of the matter, to see which of them would come nearest unto the truth, & also you might have been thoroughly informed what the life and reputation of either of them had been, that thereby you might have been able to make some sound conjecture of the truth. But first of all the defendants oath ought to have been taken, who having sworn that he ought nothing, the plaintiff might have been adjudged to prove his debt, or else to lose the same, but making us both to swear without knowing either the one or the other, the offender hath taken his oath the more boldly, thinking by forswearing himself to be acquitted thereof, yet he hath thereby brought both himself and the innocent into trouble and pain. But it seemeth that this matter hath been expressly handled for this intent, which cannot be termed justice, but cruelty, for as much cruelty is it to torment an innocent, as it is justice to punish an offender, & it were better to leave a wicked man unpunished, then to torture such a one as hath not deserved it: notwithstanding, we see that you had rather have the good man tormented▪ then the malefactor should escape untouched, which should be yet somewhat tolerable, if (as I have before said) it were not likely that (proceeding in such sort as you do) the innocent should suffer for the offender, although it were far more reasonable to pardon one bad man, then to put a good man in danger: for justice if it must needs be constrained to yield, it ought always to be rather unto clemency then cruelty. Let then (you worthy judges) the one be pardoned, for the others sake, because the offender hath already endured sufficiently for the expiation of his offence, and the innocent hath suffered too much for being no better advised before he brought himself into such danger: and let that money which is now in strife be given to the poor, seeing that the one offereth to pay it, and the other to forgive it. In so doing, you shall do more justly, then in continuing that course which was unhappily begun.  

The Answer.  
IT is said that Charlemagne shifting the Saxons into Flanders, and the Flemings into Saxony, made of one devil twain, so you would persuade us to do the like, by redoubling a scandal that hath happened in the Commonwealth you do feel it, and in a manner yourselves have confessed it, but because you have both twain no desire to be tortured any more, you will not confess the whole. Did not you yourselves say, that if the offender do escape, he will be worse than a plague in the Commonwealth, & yet you do openly purpose to procure his deliverance, for one of you twain must needs be the man, but why do you not in like sort say, that if you be both delivered, it be hooueth all men to take heed both of the one and the other, seeing that it cannot be certainly known who is the lewdest or the belt; our intention is to purge the Commonwealth by cutting off a wicked wretch, and you endeavour that we should leave twain therein, of whom a man cannot know which is the best: who then may not say that the Commonwealth is corrupted? There is no examining here either of folly or ignorance, but of capital crime, some do think the one to be the offender, and some do judge the other, so that although there be but one malefactor, yet it seemeth that there is twain, which is very unseemly: were it not then better if the worst should happen, that two should suffer, then to see the whole city a long time scandalised? Let him then which hath the best right determine to maintain the same until he hath vanquished the other, or else until he hath yielded the last gasp; and if you remain both constant unto the death, or at the least the good be constant, and the bad obstinate, you shall be examples of fortitude, and your death shall witness unto strangers how much our nation doth rather desire to endure any other mischief than to be dishonoured; but if you should both remain alive you should have no honour at all, and we less credit to suffer two such amongst us, of whom it is impossible to know whether is the honest or dishonest man. It were as good for you to confess that you are both bad, as not to perceiver in the trial who shall be the best. The agreement which you would now make, you should have thought upon before the Commonwealth had been scandalised by your oaths, and then you should have given those good counsels, which now are as far out of season as they are in vain, for you are not to prescribe what course we are to use with you, no more than we are bound to tell you wherefore we have caused you to swear severally, but we may tell you (and that truly) how he that had yielded unto the oath of the other might very well have escaped the extremity of the crime, but yet the reputation of both would have been always doubtful, so that it were much better to know the truth if it be possible: if not, it may be said at the least, that the fault is not in us. And this is the difference that we make between justice and cruelty, That the offender being known, he may be punished, and the innocent honoured. You say that the one may chance to suffer for the other, you know the remedy, we cannot judge you by your own mouths: it is impossible to pardon the one for the respect of the other, without great offence to the Commonwealth, seeing that you both still remain always suspected, and your lineage thereby mightily wronged. Since than you have showed yourselves more than men in the beginning, do not show yourselves less than women in the end. We counsel you so to do for the good of the country, and for your own credit. Nevertheless, it is in the choice of the sovereign judges to pardon your offence, but not to restore your former reputation: for so long as the truth shall be doubtful, you shall be both twain suspected, yea and esteemed unworthy to live amongst honest men.    

Declamation. 100  
Of the controversy betwixt Titus Quintus the Roman Consul, and Nabis tyrant of Sparta.  
Titus' Quintus making wars against Philip King of Macedon to drive him forth of Greece, and in the name of the Romans to set Greece at liberty; not being able to make a league with Nabis Tyrant of Sparta, received nevertheless succours from him, and made a truce between the said tyrant and those of Achaia. Afterwards, hane overcome the said Philip, Quintus made wars upon Nabis to cause him to restore the usurped cities of Greece, over which he tyrannized: whereupon Nabis being come to a parley with Quintus, he said thus:  
IF I could imagine with myself (O Titus Quintus) and the rest of you here present upon what reason you have protested or made wars upon me, I had quietly stayed to have seen what end my fortune should have had▪ but now I cannot refrain my desire (if I should perish) to understand first the reason why I should come to this mischief: & surely, if you were such as by same the Carthaginians are, so as amongst you the faith of friendship were of no certainty or stability, I should not greatly wonder although you made no great account of that which you do unto me. But now that I behold you, I see that you are Romans, such I say, as were wont religiously to maintain the observation of divine things, and the faith of human confederacy: & when I look upon myself, I do verily believe that I am the same man, that have been in ancient friendship and league with you as well as the rest of the Lacedæmonians; and it is but a small time since, that for the wars of Philip, yea and in my name the same hath been particularly renewed. But it may be I am he that hath broken the same league, because I hold the city of Argos; How shall I then be able to defend my fact? Surely either by the same deed, or else by the times. The deed offered me two means to defend myself, because I had the said city, being called thereunto by the Citizens and by their own surrender: wherefore I received it, and did have had one whiles with the Carthaginians, another while with the Gauls, and continually either with the one or the other have greatly troubled us, as thou hast likewise done in this war of Macedon: For very unseemly were it for us (who have undertaken arms for the liberty of Greece) to confederate ourselves with a tyrant: and with what tyrant? Surely with such a one as is the most cruel & most inhuman monster towards his own subjects that ever was. It behoved us in seeking to free all Greece, to set Lacedaemon also into her ancient freedom (although thou hadst never taken Argos by deceit) & to restore her unto her laws: whereof at this present (like a good follower of Lycurgus) thou hast made mention. Now will we take heed since Philip hath withdrawn his Garrisons from jassa and Bargilles, lest we should suffer to be trodden under thy feet, two famous cities, Argos and Lacedaemon, heretofore accounted the two lights and beauties of Greece: which it we should leave in bondage, it would blemish our title of freeing Greece. Thou wilt say that the Argians were partakers with Philip: we will not burden thee that thou wast therefore angry with them, and tookest upon thee such a quarrel for our sakes. We are sufficiently informed that of that innovation there were but two or three persons at the most culpable, as also how that they were the only men that received thee & thy soldiers into their castle, wherein surely nothing at all was done by common Counsel. We know how the Thessalians, Phocians, and Locrenses, did by common consent take Philip his part, nevertheless we did leave them free, having set all the rest of Greece at liberty. What then dost thou think we should do with the Argives, who are most innocent, as concerning their common Counsel? Thou sayest that thou art condemned for delivering of captives & dividing of the lands unto the poor (which surely are no small faults) but what is that, or what are they to be compared to so many mischiefs committed every day one after another by thee and thine? Let a free Counsel be assembled in Argos, or Lacedaemon, if thou takest pleasure to hear the truth of the offences of thy most proud government. But now setting apart thy ancientest faults: how many murders I pray thee hath that son in law of thine Pythagoras committed of late in Argos, & that as it were before mine own eyes? and how many slaughters hast thou thyself acted, I being even hard upon the confines of Lacedaemon? Moreover, those whom thou tookest whilst they were parlying, thou didst openly protest before all the Citizens that thou wouldst keep them in safety: Bring them therefore bound as they were, to the end that their miserable parents may know them to be living, whom they have bewailed for dead: but thou wilt say, let us grant that all these things be so, What have you Romans to do therewith? Wilt thou say thus unto the Grecians friends? That seek to free Greece? Who to do the same, have passed the seas? And have made war both by land and by sea? Thou wilt say, Yet have I not offended you, nor broken our league, neither violated the confederacy of the Roman Nation. How often wilt thou have me to prove unto thy face that thou hast violated the same? I will not use many words, but briefly will I set down every thing: Tell me then I pray thee how many ways friendship may be broken? Surely by these two, that is to say. If thou usest my friends like enemies, and conjoinest thyself with my foes: Whether of these two things hast thou not done? Seeing that first thou tookest Messena by force and arms, which was joined unto us with the same conditions of peace as Lacedaemon was, and received into our friendship; and yet thou being our friend and Colleague, tookest a city that was friend and united in league with us: and with Philip our enemy, thou not only keptest company, but also by the sufferance of the gods thou madest alliance with him by the means of Philocles his Lieutenant, and he making wars upon us in that sort, thou didst both trouble the seas about Malea with thy ships of war, and also tookest and slewest far more Roman Citizens then ever Philip did: and unto the ships which brought victuals unto our army, the river of Macedon was more safe than was the promontary of Malea. Cease therefore henceforth to brag of the observing of thy faith, and the performing of thy friendship inviolable, and leave off all civil manner of speech, speak plainly like a tyrant, & as an enemy ought to speak.   
FINIS.