CARDAnus Comfort translated into English.  
¶ And published by commandment of the right honourable the Earl of Oxenford.  
Anno Domini. 1573.  
Imprinted at London in Fleetstreet, near to S. Dunston's Church by Thomas Marsh.  
¶ Cum Privilegio.   

TO THE RIGHT Honourable and my good Lord the Earl of Oxeforde, Lord great Chamberlain of England.  
MY GOOD LORD, I can give nothing more agreeable to your mind, and my fortune, than the willing performance of such service as it shall please you to command me unto. And therefore rather to obey then boast of my cunning, and as a new sign of mine old devotion, I do present the book your Lordship so long desired. With assured hope that how so ever you mislike or allow there of, you will favourably conceal mine imperfections which to your Lordship alone I dare discover, because most faithfully I honour and love you. My long discontinuance of study, or rather the lack of grounded knowledge did many times discourage me, yet the pleasure I took in the matter did countervail all despair, and the rather by encouragement of you● L. who (as you well remember) unwares to me found'st some part of this work, and willed me in any wy●● to proceed therein. My meaning was not to have imparted my travail to any, but your honour hath 〈◊〉 to countermand mine intention. Yet I 〈◊〉 humbly beseech you either not to make any partakers thereof, or at the lest wise those, who for reverence to your L. or love to me, will willingly bear with mine errors. A needless thing I know it is to comfort you, whom nature and fortune hath not only not injured, but rather upon whom they have bountifully bestowed their grace: notwithstanding sith you delight to see others acquitted of cares, your L. shall not do amiss to read some part of Cardanus counsel: wherein considering the manifold miseries of others, you may the rather esteem your own happy estate with increase of those noble and rare virtues which I know and rejoice to be in you. Sure I am it would have better beseemed me to have taken this travail in some discourse of Arms (being your L. chief profession & mine also) them in Philosopher's skill to have thus busied myself: yet sith your pleasure was such, and your knowledge in either great, I do (as I will ever) most willingly obey you. And if any either through skill or curiosity do found fault with me, I trust notwithstanding for the respects aforesaid to be holden excused. From my lodging 〈◊〉 first of Ianuarye. 1571.  
Your L. always to command Thomas Bedingfeld.   

To my loving friend Thomas Bedingfeld Esquyer, one of her majesties gentlemen Pensioners.  
AFter I had perused your letters good master Bedingfeld, finding in them your request far differing from the desert of your labour, I could not choose but greatly doubt, whether it were better for me to yield you your desire, or execute mine own intention towards the publishing of your Book. For I do confess the affections that I have always born towards you could move me not a little. But when I had throughly considered in my mind of sundry and divers arguments, whether it were best to obey mine affections or the merits of your studies. At the length I determined it better to deny your unlawful request, then to grant or condescend to the concealment of so worthy a work. Whereby as you have been profited in the translating, so many may reap knowledge by the reading of the same, that shall comfort the afflicted, confirm the doubtful, encourage the coward, and lift up the base minded man, to atchiefe to any true sum or grave of virtue, whereto aught only the noble thoughts of men to be inclined. And because next to the sacred letters of divinity, nothing doth persuade the same more than philosophy, of which your book is plentifully stored. I thought myself to commit an unpardonable error, to have murdered the same in the waste bottoms of my chests, and better I thought it were to displease one, then to displease many: further considering so little a trifle cannot procure so great a breach of our amity, as may not with a little persuasions of reason be repaired again. And herein I am forced like a good and politic Captain, oftentimes to spoil & burn the corn of his own country, lest his enemies thereof do take advantage. For rather then so many of your country men should be de●ided through my senister means of your industry in studies, (whereof you are bond in conscience to yield them an account) I am content to make spoil and havoc of your request, and that that might have wrought greatly in me in this former respect, utterly to be of no effect or operation, and when you examine yourself what doth avail a mass of gold to be continually imprisoned in your bags, and never to be employed to your use. I do not doubt even so you think of your studies and delightful Muses. What do they avail, if you do not participate tbem to others? Wherefore we have this latin Proverb. Scire tuum nihil est nisi te scire hoc sciat alter. What doth avail the tree unless it yield fruit unto an other, what doth avail the Vine unless an other delighteth in the Grape? What doth avail the Rose unless an other took pleasure in the smell? why should this tree be accounted better than that tree, but for the goodness of his fruit? why should this Vine be better than that Vine, unless it brought forth a better Grape than the other? why should this Rose be better esteemed than that Rose, unless in pleasantness of smell it far surpassed the other Rose? And so is it in all other things as well as in man. why should this man, be more esteemed than that man, but for his virtue, through which every man desireth to be accounted of. Then you amongst men I do not doubt, but will aspire to follow that virtuous path, to illuster yourself with the ornaments of virtue. And in mine opinion as it beutifyeth a fair woman to be decked with pearls and precious stones, so much more it ornifyeth a gentleman to be furnished in mind with glittering virtues. Wherefore considering the small harm I do to you, the great good I do to others I prefer mine own intention to discover your volume, before your request to secret the same: Wherein I may seem to you to play the part of the cunning and expert Medeciner or Physician, who although his patient in the extremity of his burning Fever, is desirous of cold liccour or drink to qualefye his sore thirst, or rather kill his languishing body. Yet for the danger he doth evidently know by his science to ensue, denieth him the same. So you being sick of to much doubt in your own procedings, through which infirmity you are desirous to bury and insevill your works in the grave of oblivion. Yet I knowing the discommodities that shall redound to yourself thereby (and which is more unto your Countreyemen) as one that is willing to salve so great an inconvenience, am nothing dainty to deny your request. Again we see, if our friends be dead, we cannot show or declare our affection more than by erecting them of Tombs: whereby when they be dead in deed, yet make we them live as it were again through their monument, but with me behold it happeneth far better, for in your life time I shall erect you such a monument, that as I say in your life time you shall see how noble a shadow of your virtuous life, shall hereafter remain when you are dead and go. And in your life time again I say, I shall give you that monument and remembrance of your life, whereby I may declare my good will though with your ill will as yet that I do bear you in your life. Thus earnestly desiring you in this one request of mine, as I would yield to you in a great many, not to repugn the setting forth of your own proper studies. I bid you farewell.  
¶ From my new country Muses at Wivenghole, wishing you as you have begun, to proceed in these virtuous actions. For when all things shall else forsake us, virtue yet will ever abide with us, and when our bodies falls into the bowels of the earth, yet that shall mount with our minds into the highest Heavens.  
By your loving and assured friend. E. Oxenford.   

The Earl of Oxenford to the Reader.  
THe labouring man, that tills the fertile soil,  
And reaps the harvest fruit, hath not in deed  
The gain but pain, and if for all his toil  
He gets the straw, the Lord will have the seed.  
The Manchet fine, falls not unto his share  
On coarsest cheat, his hungry stomach feeds  
The Landlord doth, possess the finest fare  
He pulls the flowers, the other plucks but weeds.  
The Mason poor that builds the Lordlye halls  
Dwells not in them, they are for high degree  
His Cottage is, compact in paper walls  
And not with brick, or stone as others be.  
The idle Drone, that labours not at all  
Sucks up the sweet, of honey from the Bee  
Who worketh most, to their share lest doth fall,  
With due desert, reward will never be.  
The swiftest Hare, unto the Mastiff slow  
Often times doth fall, to him as for a pray:  
The Greyhounde thereby, doth miss his game we know  
For which he made, such speedy haste away.  
So he that takes, the pain to pen the book  
Reaps not the gifts, of goodly golden Muse  
But those gain that, who on the work shall look  
And from the sour, the sweet by skill doth choose.  
For he that beats the bush the bird not gets.  
But who sits still, and holdeth fast the nets.   

Thomas Churchyard gentleman, to the Reader.  
IF I had (gentle Reader) as great Art to persuade as desire to do the good, the force of my writing and truth of the matter should be a sufficient mean, to make thee delight in the divine discourses of this book: whereon as Cardanus hath bestowed great study, so master Bedingefelde hath showed no little labour. And setting forth to sale the hidden treasures of the mind (that long might have lurked in the latin) he biddeth every man buy somewhat of the ware (or cheapen at the lest) those things that serveth best for their purpose, & peradventure by touching of trifles, they may be attempted with noble jewels, & so fall to beat a price of more mighty matter. For sure in this shop of secrets, are sundry sorts of far fetched merchandise, the goodness whereof may as well content the inward judgement, as the gayest riches of the world doth please the gazing eyes, but if with handle alone and careless looking of the same you say it a side (refusing that is offered) I scarce think you worthy of so worthy a benefit, and misdoubt you want a storehouse for so stately a treasure. O who could hold you from gadding after May games, running unto triumphs, staring on strangers, wondering on Masks, waiting for Piayes, & blazing of your own braveries. Whose beggary beauties in general, are all as vain, as the shadow of the Sun: & joe being so unbrydled in such baggage, so ready to wretchedness, so apt for apish pastimes, so greedy of vain glory, and so glad to gaze on games whereon no gain groweth, but loss of wit wealth and time. Me think you should blush to forego the blessedness this book may bring you and bless the beginner of the same and setter forth of the work. But I fear as the horse waxeth hot when his rider takes him up from stumbling, or as a churlish child waxeth worse for the check of a wise father, you will fling away the glass, that shall bewray your blotted brows, and so follow your follies so far, that neither Cardanus Comforts nor no other that calls you back again (to see through yourselves) shall any whit prevail, if so you be bewitched and rather yield to Cyrses charms then Ulysses' counsel, I lack Apollo's pipe to please your ears, and leave you in a labourinth of endless travail, me thinks the hard nut being cracked and presented unto you with cloven shell, argues of itself, if you scorn to pill away the skin of the kyrnel, you aught not to taste any piece or part of the fruit: so if you but read your senses a sleep, and with slack search of knowledge slumber out a sentence conninglye shaped for the safety of man, you gain little by this work, and lose but labour with slobberinge hands or head to blot or blemish the beauty of this book. For neither the misliking of your head, nor trifling with your hands, can hinder the fame of so famous a study. And I pray you consider how hardly it comes to your hands. The translator thereof (as many others the more pity do the like) sent the coppye to a noble man to be read and leapt up in silence, he groping the ground and bowels of the book, sets incontinent openly abroad the body, the every good imagination might make a noble notamy of the matter, yet making courtsye (in any cause) to offend his friend, he showed me the book, and the translators desire (always eager to pleaser good people as I conjectured by his countenance) & I who found mine own infirmities finely healed (or favourablye handled by this good hap) persuaded as I dared the publishing of this precious present, hoping that some as sick as myself shallbe cured or eased by this good counsel. The person that puts it out, I tell you may a little (yea & very much) lead you to good liking: My Verses though simple they are, somewhat shall tell you of the nature of the book. Give credit as you please, disdain no good meaning, do somewhat yourselves ear you find fault with others, cloak not your sloth with the barenes of barren brains, yield fruit as you flourish, and bear with the blossoms that buddeth from this tree. So far you well.   

Thomas Churchyard in the behalf of the Book.  
YOu troubled minds with torments toast,  
that sighs and sobs consumes:  
(Who breathes and puffs from burning breast,  
both smothering smoke and fumes.)  
Come read this book that freely brings, a box of balm full sweet,  
An oil to anoint the bruised parts, of every heavy spriete.  
A souplinge salve for every sore, a medicine for the sick,  
A seed that eats up cankered flesh, and searcheth near the quick.  
Each grief the grows by error blind (that makes man's judgement jar)  
May here a precious plaster find, ear corsye creep to far.  
The blind that mourns for want of sight, could he but hear this read,  
Would take his blindness in good part, and bear a quiet head.  
The lame whose lack of legs is death, unto a lofty mind,  
Will kiss his crotche and creep on knees, Cardanus works to find.  
The beggar bore bedecked in brats, and patched rotten rags,  
In budget if he bore this book, would scorn the roisters brags.  
The shepherd that in skortchinge sun, sits scowling on the skies,  
Would leave the wolf his flock of sheep, to see this book with eyes.  
The surly snodge that sweeps up gold, and makes his God thereon,  
Would sure confess this pearl should shine, when glistering gold were gone.  
The wyldest man or monster strange, whose natures naughty are,  
Would stand a ma●de as buck at bay, upon this book to stare,  
This is no fable finely field, as cutlare works the blade,  
This is a substance of itself, this is no silly shade.  
This speaks out of the brazen head, full many a golden word,  
This strikes the stordye stomachs dead, and yet it draws no sword.  
This threatens thonderboltes for fools, yet weather fair it shows,  
So such as can bear of a storm, and calmye weather knows.  
This teacheth men to tune their strings, who would sweet music make  
This shows who feigns, or sweetly sings: & where the tune we take.  
The poor that plains on pinching plagues, by this doth stand content,  
And yeldinge thanks for food and clot, takes well that God hath sent.  
The rich whose raging reach would reap, the sweet of every soil,  
Shall learn to sing a mixrye mean, and leave the poor the spoil.  
The high or hautye heart shall here, a lively lesson learn,  
How wisdom holds himself upright, and halting heads deserne.  
The low that lours at loathsome lock, and lingers out his time,  
Shall see how safe the simple si●s, and how they fall that clime.  
The strong that strives to win the goal, by strength & stoutness vain,  
Shall shun the shouldering crooked play, and walk the path full plain.  
The weak whose wits with woes are worn (which breeds in breast debare)  
Shall laugh the giants strength to scorn, & praise the feeble state,  
The sick that seeks a syrup sweet, for sour disease within,  
Shall help the heaps of harms in heart, ear blister rise on skin.  
The proud the poultes and picks his plumes, & prunes his feathers gay,  
Shall meekness show and forthwith fling, his painted sheath away.  
The prisoner that in fetters lies, shall think his freedom more,  
In closed walls than all his scoop, that he hath had before,  
The banished wight that beats his brains, with many busy broils,  
Shall see what gain exile doth bring, by sight of sundry soils.  
The servant that in servage lives, shall fee he hath more ease,  
Than hath his master who of force, must many people please.  
The fearful man that hateth death, shall see that death is best,  
And death is most to be desyrde, where life can breed no rest.  
The drunken dolt that doth delight, in sauce, in swash, and swill,  
Shall see some snib or sour rebuke, to break him of his will.  
The fool that all sound counsel hates, perhaps in reading this,  
May wax more wise and fondness leave, and so amend the mis.  
The flatterer here may find his faults, and fall to better frame,  
The currish earl may civil be, in noting of the same.  
The coward shall win courage great, as he this book shall view,  
And he that is not shaped right, may here be made a new.  
The ploughman that with sweat of brows, doth dearly win his bread.  
Shall see what danger devil they in, that are with daintyes fed.  
There is no state that beareth life, of high or low degree,  
But for the sickness of his mind, a medsine here may see.  
This book bewrays what wretched wrack, belongs to life of man,  
What burdens bore he on his back, since first this world began.  
This is a glass to gaze upon, where man himself may find,  
A shining sun that plainly shows, A man is but his mind,  
And who that reads and marks a right, the reasons couched here,  
Shall win such treasures by the same, as he shall hold full dear.  
Pass on plain book of peerless price, and press in worthy place,  
Dread no disdain of froward heads, nor fear the frowning face.  
A worthy work doth justly crave, a worthy patron still,  
Whose noble bucklar shall defend, this worthy work from in.  
And he that made thee English speak, his tongue and pen be blest,  
With happy hope of virtues high, from heaven, here possessed.  
FINIS.   

Of Comfort the first Book  
Among such and so many ancient monuments as perished in the Barbarian wars: would God (that at lest Marcus Tullius books of comfort, written at the death of his daughter, had been till this day preserved. For as in all other matters he declared himself more than a man, so may it be thought that herein he had written most excellently: the matter being neither common, feigned or touching others, but proceeding from his own natural affection and extreme perturbation of mind. And such is the condition and quality of comforting, as all be it no persuasion or eloquence were there in used, yet wanteth it not reason and sufficient proof to try itself: wherein so excellent, wise, and eloquent a man as Marcus Tullius having travailed: it must be presumed he framed a work not only worthy praise, but also above all expectation.  
And albeit these ancient wars have among many other noble works deprived us of so learned a book, yet have we thought meet to entreat thereof (not because it is so praisable as amiss it cannot be praised) but also so necessary (as in all things which of necessity must be had) better it is to have the worst, than none at all. For examemple we see, that houses are needful, such as can not possess that stately palaces of stone, do persuade themselves to devil in houses of timber and clay, and wanting them, are contented to inhabit the simple cottage, yea rather than not to be housed at all refuse not the poor cabbon, and most beggarly cave. So necessary is this gift of consolation, as there liveth no man, but that hath cause to embrace it. For in these things better it is to have any than none at al. And well we see there is none alive that in every respect may be accounted happy, yea though mortal men were free from all calamities, yet the torments & fear of death should still offend them. But besides them, behold, what, and how many evils there be, that unless the cloud of error be removed, impossible it is to see the truth, or receive alloy of our earthly woes.  
And above the griefs that all other necessities do bring with them, this hath somewhat more greveous, and intolerable: for they satisfied with that they desire, forthwith they cease to offend: as hunger is eased with meat, thirst is appeased to drink, labour contented with rest. But the memory, of evils is so settled and manifold, as wanting good persuasion doth never cease to torment the mind, but from one discontented imagination to an other, from one calamity or misery to an other, continually leadeth on our displeasing thoughts And for that cause we have framed this book, which although it profiteth nothing to drive away the cares and anxiety of mind in others, yet shall I therein not a little content myself, for which respect thiefly I took the matter in hand. And as men say, that Asclepiodorus without colours did right cunningly paint: so shall we void of all craft and skill, with true reason declare how much each man erreth in life, judgement, opinion, and will. Yea, somethinges there are that so well do prove themselves, as besides nature need no proof at all.  
Of which kind in this our incertain life, vain glory, and in nature of things, great plenty was evermore to be found, and in all such the more cunning and eloquence is used, the less we see oftentimes they receive credit and belief. Who is so much misaduised as would paint the pillars of perfit marble or Porfery? or who doth colour the vessels of Allabaster? When the natural gloss doth give chiefest grace and reputation to the work we plaster and paint the ragged walls of mortar and clay, to the end that art should supply, that nature hath left unsemelye. Neither do I think our work here in so great as at the beginning we thought to be. For albeit we know the number of miseries and cares to be many, yet divers of them be of such kind as being well considered do need no medicine at all. As those which men willingly and unconstrained do force themselves to bear: for who would take in hand to comfort Marcus Regulus, amids his miseries? whom neither the pity of his children, nor the prayers of his kinsfolks, could persuade to remain in Rome and not to return to the hands of the Carthaginiences. Of the same greatness of mind were the holy martyrs, Paul, George, Laurence, with almost innumerable others. Some other sorts of pains and travail there are which the faintest hearts do not refuse to abide, either in respect of the glory or gain that groweth thereof. As some we see uncompelled do serve princes, others do labour to please their lovers, some consume their time in studies some follow traffic, and some seek authority and rule. So little trouble they find in these travails as being removed from them, they are greatly grieved. Some led on with only hope, do voluntarily take upon them a life with patience & travail to be endured: as those that pass their days in solitary places, as they that live in cities continually, as they that observe religion strait lie, praying & fasting, who being asked for what end they so do: answer, for hope that after death they shall receive eternal felicity. Some there are that take great pains and willingly suffer in respect of sweetness and delight (as they think) that is joined there unto. As harvest labourers, who after long toil and sweated in summers son, do not withstanding dance when the pipe doth sound. Others with cold feet do leave the fire to cast the dice: for though the cold do pinch, yet the pleasure of the play is more. But far greater incoveniences do Cupid's knights with adventure of life abide and yet, with all their hearts they hazard all, that in the end all their desires may be obtained. Some there are that although they seem evil either in respect of nature's necessity, as old age▪ or of comparison, as breaking of prison, yet are they more patiently born: because before they came they were desired, and being come may not therefore be unwelcome. Wherefore if in particular I should entreat of every of these, besides that no fruit should grow thereof, I might also seem cumbersome & tedious. I do therefore think best to speak of those which men do condemn & flee as evil. Among which number somewhat I will say of the evils abovesaid, for y● one thing is not to every man alike pleasant or disconting, but of them old age seemeth the chief, which though no calamity, but a gift of nature (& yet in some respect may be so called) because we see it unwillingly born of many, & therefore Cicero hath thereof curiously written, & though it cannot be justly numbered among the evils of man's life, yet of us shall not be omitted.  
We say therefore that among things we account evil, there be three sorts. That is to say, Common calamities, private calamities simple, and private calamities manifold: common calamities we call those that happen to all men, or the greatest number of our acquaintance: as hunger, pestilence, subversion of countries, and such like. Private calamities simple, be of two sorts, the one discommendable, as if a thief lamenteth that he loseth the opportunity for murder: or dishonest as the weeping of Vrsus in Papinius. The other honest and in no wise worthy great discommendation: as the destruction of houses, the loss of children, & death of friends. Private calamities manifold we account those when a man by many mishaps at one instant is molested: as the holy scripture telleth of job, who deprived of his house, children, cattle, & substance, was also tormented with most pitiful diseases & sores.  
Some men do hold for true opinion that albeit, a man may sustain one kind of calamity, yet the sufferance of so sundry miseries is not to be found in any. Wherefore of private & simple evils in general we will first take in hand to write, next we shall entreat of sorrow and death either of ourselves or near friends: In the second book, and in the last, we will not omit to speak of torment, bondage, imprisonment, exile, injury of old age, poverty, & in general of many miseries assembled togethers. But first let us begin at private evils, declaring that the good or evil fortune, importeth nothing to blessed life, and that the fruit of all felicity (as Plato saith) rests in virtue, or as the Poet saith.  
Whose conscience guiltless is, doth not grow pale for fear.  
And yet (as at that beginning I said) who so would consider how many discontentations do happen & diligently mark every one of them, should find to what small purpose in adversity a man tormenteth himself, considering how short, frail, incertain, & miserable the life of man is. So as if at any time for that misery it is to be lamented, then after the manner of Heraclites, is continually to be bewailed, & as Palladas saith. All weeping was I born, all weeping must I dye: my whole life in weeping have been consumed. O lamentable life of man remaining on earth in sickness, sorrow, and continual misery. Therefore if at any time we must take leave of lamenting, then ought the same either ever or never to be done, for life is either ever to be lamented or never.  
Among other miseries what I pray you can be greater than when a man rises from bed in the morning, to be incertain of his return to rest again? or being in bed, whether his life shall continued till he rise? besides that, what labour, what hazard & care, are men constrained to abide with these our brittle bodies, our feeble force, and incertayne life: so as of no nation I think a man better or more fytlye named then of the Spaniard, who in their language do term a man, shadow. And sure there is nothing to be found of less assurance or sooner passed then the life of man, not, nor that may more rightly be resembled to a shadow. Sometime I consider with myself, and think (if the Christian law were thereunto consenting) that the souls of some wicked devils were entered into the bodies of men as torments for sins, and so after death none other hell or punishment to follow. So great is the mass of worldly miseries, as this life is either for wicked folk, or by some wicked god appointed. But when I duly consider all, I leave this common opinion as altogether untrue: & perceive that in this life there is nothing found that may justly be called good or evil, & do allow of those philosophers as wise, who thought that all things consysted in opinion. For what custom, what law, or what judgement, is so certain, as is not encountered with contrary opinions? and surely believe me, that the philosophers would not so long have contended among themselves, if the matters of their contention had not rested only in opinion: what man is so mad as will say the swan is black? or that the raven is in colour white, when the matter is otherwise to be judged by common sense. But what is good or evil (O lord) how much speech, how great disputation, and how long contention hath been. The blind man seeks a mote. How can it be other than dissension, when the thing dyffreth from itself, & the philosophers do disagree among themselves as of that, that no where is to be found. And here upon cometh to my memory a certain fable written by an ancient poet, which doth lively in my judgement set forth man's life. It is told that when mighty jupiter had made the heavens, the earth the seas, the beasts, and men, he soberly considered that unless he allotted both punishment & reward for man's deserts, it should so come to pass as they would not only approve all kind of dysorder but also disdain the gods themselves, for which consideration the great jove commanded Vulcan to frame two brazen tons, the one to receive all that was good, the other to contain the evil, and made both good & evil things winged, to th'end they might more fytlye be sent among mortal men, according to the quality of their deserts. But Pandora being a busy gods and greedy to look into the vessels, did open them, & suddenly both the good & the evil broke forth & flew their ways, the good hovered up to heaven, the evil made speee to the hell, and in the barrel of evil remained only hope: & in the vessel of good was found suspytion as that wherewith they were maintained, which news when jupiter hard (as he is an angry god) took the empty vessels, and in a rage threw them down, which mortal men sing, desirous of news drawn near & embraced the empty barrels, some of the good and some of the evil But they that laid hold of the empty tons did nevertheless persuade themselves to have got both good and evil, and yet in deed neither good nor evil fell to any mortal man, saving that they that happened upon the better barrel found in themselves opinion of good with suspicion, & the other opinion of evil with some hope. And so it came to pass, not unlike as when men in dark night's walking in Arabia do happily tread upon some piece of iron or other cold thing, are suddenly affrighted with fear least they have happened upon a venomous serpent, & yet have not: even so the only suspicion of good and evyll is that, that perplexeth all mortal creatures, because all that is good is ascended to heaven, and all that is evil, go down to the infernal spirits.  
And therefore ever since the great jupiter have disdained to take account of mortal man's deservings Truly although this be a feigned fable, yet doth it aswell declare the original both of good and evil as if it had been set forth in the learned schools. But as these earthly joys are vain and instable, so in the world to come all things are certain, assured, & everlasting, whether through sufferance of these afflictions which we call evils, the godly love doth call us: according to the saying of the prophet, because thou were accepted by god, it was expedient the temptation should try thee: for the almighty God not unlike a father that entirely loveth his children doth bring them up in all contynencye & sober life, restraining their pleasures, not suffering them without chastisement to exercise any evil or ungodly life. And contrary wise such as he esteemeth not, and that live like children destened to perdition, without regard he doth suffer to pursue their drunken and dissolute manner of living. Shall we therefore say the life of such servants is more happy, or more to be wished for then those sons. For none are admitted to heavenvly joys, but those that in all good life and perfection do deserve the same: for as gold is fyned in the furnace so the life of a just man, by adversity in this world is tried. And yet if all either good or evil should be compared to the heavenly hope, it were no more than one grain to a hole heap. S. Paul therefore said that all we suffer in this world was not meritorious enough to gain the glory of the world to come, who so ever then that firmly embraceth this faith, should he not in adversyty rejoice & in prosperity lament? and amids his miseries persuade himself that god doth make trial of his faith, after trial to call him among the number of his choose? If in getting worldly glory thou dost so much rejoice, the reward thereof being small, the continuance short and mortal: what should we do for this heavenly glory, which is everlasting, great, & assured? So great is this comfort, that if there were not many that swerved in faith, the holy office of comforting were all ready finished, who would not change this short life, with that life everlasting? this frayl with that firm? this unhappy, with that most happy this troublesome, with that most quiet? but in want of belief is sin, and in sin is want of belief: where by the condition of man is bereft both of hope & faith, For what can be unto man either more profitable after death, or more to be wished in this life, than the hope of the life to come? And though the same were not, yet aught a man no whit to be discouraged, because there is almost no misery so great but may be converted to better hap. Neither is there among mortal men any opinion so assured, as that nothing is sure. For as adversity and misfortune hath been to some men a way to good chance: so hath prosperity been to others the occasion of misery. But it is not our determination to discourse hereof, though by often proof it is to be tried. Our care only is to entreat of calamities: for if I should writ of all such as misfortune hath advanced, this book could scantly contain them. Neither do I believe the holy Scripture to mean other by the history of job, than thereby in one example to show the variety of fortune which the Gentiles by divers examples were taught to believe. For job being first happy, having health, children, abundance, land, possession, & cattle, was bereft of all his worldly goods, & such as in prosperity were his greatest friends, become in adversity his most cruel foes, yet afterwards in more abundance than before, he received the goodness and liberality of fortune. Such and so many be the occasions both of good and evil fortune, as nothing is more incertain.  
The servitude of Ventidius was 'cause that after he become Consul and gained great glory, which he without decay of the Roman fortune could never have looked for. But by his bondage he had occasion to show his virtue which was the way to felicity. The proof thereof is daily seen among the barbarous nations, as the Turks, & those people which were called Mamaluchi, Among mortal creatures what can be more intolerable than sickness? yet did the same greatly profit the Emperor Augustus being in arms against Brutus.  
For he, warned by his physician to remove from his pavilion by sleep he recovered health, which if for other respect he had done, the same had been to his great dishonour, or if he had abydden he had been slain or forced to flee. Plotinus a philosopher of Plato's sect, had among others a scholar named Ornucius Marcellus who was greatly diseased with the gout & palsy, through diligent hearing his master (who disputed & read with great sweetness & facility) he forgot oft times to eat: and so with attentive hearing become a singular philosopher, and with much abstinence recovered his health. So through sickness he gained both learning and good recovery.  
The evil disposition of the body doth oft times profit the virtue of mind, for sickness make the the surfyter to become of good diet, the proud more covetous, the wicked religious, yea other while it profiteth the body also, for more men of sickly body than health do attain to old age. Such is the change of worldly things. For as with in the tail of a Stag lieth most present poison, and all the rest of his body is wholesome Flesh: So the Serpent Tyrus whose venom is uncurable, hath flesh so wholesome, as it is medicinable against all other poisons.  
Paulus tertius though he was learned and not unlike to aspire to the papacy, yet the opinion of his old age, and syckelye body did, greatly enforce to his advauncement. The great adversity of Sparticus condemnned to dye in combat was the occasion he become glorious and while he 〈◊〉 to the Romans terrible. When the memory of many kings is wor●e away. Among the rest of such commodities as adversity bringeth withal, this benefit it hath, that a man's misfortunate days once passed, he lyvethe the rest of his life with greater delight. Who esteemeth his health that hath not tasted of sickness? Who knoweth the sweetness of his country that never hath bend banished? Or who can be happy or take pleasure in riches, that never hath lived in poverty? Or why do childless old men take 〈…〉 in children? But because they have been 〈◊〉. We read that Agissolaus king of the 〈◊〉 was a wise and severe man, yet in his age hie so much loved children, as he seemed to 〈◊〉. As salt 〈…〉 adversity by paste, maketh 〈…〉, and the more if it be not long. And 〈…〉 very well 〈◊〉 the example of 〈◊〉 comforting his fellows saying.  
O mates (quoth he) that many a 〈◊〉, have bid and born or this,  
Worse have we seen, and this also shall end when Gods will is.  
Through Scylla rage you wots and through he the roaring rocks we passed,  
Though Cyclops shore were full of fear yet came we through at last  
Pluck up your hearts and drive from thence, both dread and fear away  
To think on this may pleasure be perhaps another day.  
Among the rest of Marcus 〈◊〉 Cicero his oratious of life and proceeding what was more to his avail, than the banishment from his country: when his goods was sold, his house subverted, & he himself confined only, than he learned how welcome he was to the citizens, how necessary to his country, how dear to his friends, and (had he modestly used his glory) nothing that ever happened to him in life was more to his reputation: for after his revokement, he become more glorious than before. And in all misfortunes of man's life, this reason is of no small importance, that necessity driveth us to comfort ourselves: as whether we patiently or with impatience bear our adversities, yet nedely in the end we must bear them.  
Neither is sorrow or sadness to other end, then to increase care, and make our minds more unmeet to receive good counsel: and thereby both hope and help are clearly taken away, and what good or alloy of grief 〈◊〉 continual tears or desperation procure? truly sith in thy power it is to aggravate or decrease thine own care, it is the part of a wise and well advised man to disburden himself of sorrow, and with patient mind to bear all adversity, calling to memory.  A guiltless mind all sclauhders do disdain. 
Alas, what shall thy languishing life avail the or what can thy pensyve thoughts prevail. It hath been seen ofttimes that patience or sufferance of adversity hath helped valiauntemen. For we soonest take pity of those that courageously do suffer misery, and presume more of their innocency and virtue, then of those that impacientlye inlike fortune abandon all courage of mind. Agis the Lacedaemonian king; being by certain officers of authority condemned to dye was drawn with a cord towards the place of execution: it happened he espied a servant of his standing by weeping to whom he said these words. I pray the my friend forbear to lament my death▪ for being unjustly condemned to dye, I am become more worthy life, than they that enforce me to it. And having spoken thus, willingly strangled himself:  
We read also that a noble mind do move men to compassion▪ When Scevola had determined to kyl the king Porsenna, for his valiant & voluntary confession received pardon, which if he had not done, but with denial craved mercy, besides dishonour he should have suffered most cruel death. 〈◊〉 taken for M. Brutus, Servius Terentius, for D. Bru. & falling into Antonius' hands gained both perdom and the friendship of their enemies, more through nobility of mind than submission. What need more words? patience in captivity, & magnanimity in adverse fortune have ever been praised and helped most. And thus 〈…〉 I say, that seeing the guilty conscience doth only 〈◊〉 a man unhappy, he is to evil advised that 〈◊〉 his mind to misfortune when wholly he might remain in liberty. A man is nothing but his mind: if the mind he discontented y● man is all disquiet though all the 〈◊〉 well, and if the mind be contented though all the rest misdo it forseeth little. I remember a certain rich man growing mad, snatched at his straw and complained that he should dye for Hunger because there was no Corn within the empty ears, did not (I pray you) his discontented mind only make him unhappy.  
another one there was that imagined himself to be made of glass, and ever feared to be broken: was not this good fool without all misery the most miserable man alive? But some there be that through imperfection of mind or error are causers of their own evil, who aught therefore with more patience bear it. As children who though they bite their own hands never so much do not complain, yet if never so little they be hurt by others do cry out. But it were unfyt for us to follow the manner of children & unseemelye to be more foolish and of less courage than they. What can be more fond than a man to hurt himself and then complain, better it were to follow the counsel of the Poet.  
Thine own deserved woes bear thou with patiented mind.  
Such pay●es are 〈◊〉 with greatest grief, as causeless men do find.  
What can be said more deservingly to chance unto us, then that, where 〈…〉 fear, haste or (which is 〈◊〉 of all) disorder, give occasion of our own grief. Why would they complain? sith there is none other cause of thy sorrow? against whom sing 〈…〉? upon whom would thou be revenged? 〈◊〉 thy own self. Who so doth mark it well, shall find that for the most part we are causes of our own evil. And though it is plainly declared in the book De Arcanis eternitatis, yet being here requisite, we will again speak thereof. And yet were the same needless, if men were not so far in love with themselves, For every one be he never so simple persuadeth himself to know most, imputing the good success of things to their own wisdom, and the evil to the default of fortune. Neither doth it suffice them to accuse the folly of fortune, but also find fault with some evil spirit & lurking devil. In which error princes do more often fall then others, not only because they are partakers of all kind of imperfections, but also for that their ears are always open to all sorts of parasites and flatterers, who make them believe they want no virtue, wisdom or other perfection that man or god can be endued with al. And these fair spoken people do study nothing more than to practise that princes may know nothing, for otherwise they would not entertain such Gnatoes as they be. How much more comely were it in mortal men, to impute all good success to God (or if they thought not so good) to fortune: and all evil success to their lewdness, vilety, and lack of judgement. But wouldst thou know why thou art a fool? because thou dost account thyself wise.  
Socrates who by sentence of Apollo's oracle was judged the wisest, confessed himself to know but one thing, and that was he knew nothing But thou that in deed knowest nothing at all, will womanlyke take upon the to speak of Mazageta India and rather than fail, of things above the skies.  
Ptolomeus the noble astronomer was wont to say that a man that pleased himself was hated of god And he pleaseth himself that imagineth himself wise or providente, and imputeth all to his own glory and profit. Such kind of people be that most part of mortal men, and therefore subject to so many evils and misfortune. But now we have a little disgressed from our determined purpose: because we should rather have proved then disproved that men be causers of their own evil. And if we respect all sorts of evils, the matter will so fall out. What tyrant is so terrible, as persecuteth the simple and innocent souls? who is so unskylful an artisan as can not earn his own living? what man so cruel as murdereth the humble and wise people? for it is the part of a wise man to observe the time the people & their authority among whom we live. Nero was a cruel Emperor yet in his time Vespasianus did not only live unoffended but also bore office. So was Tiberius to his own subjects accounted severe, yet Thrasilus that mathimatrician continued in favour, & so did divers grammarians. But who so happeneth to live in the government of these unmerciful monsters, the surest way is to lurk & live unknown. A most assured rule it is that without a man's own folly, he cannot become miserable. And although all other virtues were banished from men, yet wisdom should ever retain her place and reputation. As for justice, fidelity, liberality, and courtesy, are hundred but as certain strange wandering birds: but fortitude moor often, because it encountereth with all kind of perrilles, and yet sometimes occasyoneth rather hindrance then good fortune: yea learning itself, is nothing but mockery, and subject to all injuries. But wisdom is an heavenly gift, and dwelleth among men in great reputation and reverence.  
Wisdom I say, is that which Kings do seek for, which people have in admyration, and on every side is necessary. Therefore who so want the wisdom, hath none other cause to complain.  
As a man's health is divers ways impeached even so is wisdom: as with anger, pleasure, cowerdyce, dullness, ambition, covetise, and finally every vice of mind offendeth wisdom in man. A Folly I do think it to comfort those that through debility of mind do cast themselves into misery: as foul delight, and desperate revenges.  
Some there be who not unlike to gudgines, knowing the hook lieth hidden within the bait, doth not withstanding, drawn on with gredynes of Venus' joys, or such like fond delight cast themselves into apparent misadventures, Men say that the gudgine, craftelye (and yet foolishely) doth first with her tail beat the bait from the hook, but if that availeth not, do forthwith assay to bite it. To what purpose should a man with such peril play the parasite, when otherwise he might safely live? But we more wyttelesse than these bruyte Beasts do not abide the beating of the hurtful bait. And yet what bitterness doth this sorrow bring withal, being bread with such delightinge pleasure, yet happily thou say, I would have pleasure without pain If this difficulty doth offend thee, then good fool thou seekest a thing impossibly to be attained: because every joy is accompanied with his discomodity. Glory is followed with envy, wisdom not got without labour, wealth is wone with care children are kept with trouble, banqueting is backed with sickness, ease breedeth poverty, ambition begetteth hate, authority hath following fear, quietness engendereth disdain. So I pray you whereunto tendeth the end of all mortal things? And this in allaying of man's discontentations is most comfortable, that every man is afflicted with one misfortune or other, or as men say, each man feeleth his own private offence. Some are afflicted with poverty, some with want of children, some with sickness, some with fear, some with wrong, some with children, some with wives, some with craft, some with foes: and that which is greatest, & most to be marveled at (such is the condition of man) to be most happy & subject to no gryef, is also a calamity. It is therefore said that Polycrates being loathed with abundance of fortune's grace, did greatly desire to feel some offence, & therefore cast into the sea a ring of marvelous prize, of purpose to have some cause to complain But fortune (as it seemed) having sworn his happiness in a fish restored it again. But jest I seem altogether to persuade with fables I pray you what pleasure do princes take at their divers? when continual eating of delicate dishes have taken away the taste of their mouths. The physytions affirm that delicacy, is when a man from evil releste recovereth his perfit nature. Then I pray you what judgement have they in delicacy that never tasted any gross or dyspleasant meat? Or how can he be happy that never felt of gryef? dost thou not see how happy poor men account theymselues, when they are invited to rich man's tables what is the cause? sing poor men have no better fare than the rich? surely nothing but the noveltye of the diet. Wherefore it is most assured that with out adversity a man may not be happy▪ nor take delight in mirth without 〈◊〉 sorrow. The● is it not a comfort in these calamities to have not only one man for a companion, but also all mankind and as it is commonly said. Censors est miseris 〈…〉.  
But of how much more force shall thy comforth knowing that miseries do not happen at all adventures, but rather in respect of felicity: and that the greatness of evil is accompanied with the greatness of good. And to begin in general: there is nothing more noble than a common weal well governed: yet what can be more hard, than to live there? at the beginning such a one was the Roman government, and by that mean conquered the whole world. But what can be more hardly born, than a life under such laws, when subjects are exercised only in labour, constrained to marriage, education of children, and chyeflye to follow wars? And among these things that labour which husbandmen do use, seemeth to our ears most intolerable. The bringing up of children (& specially many) to a poor man, seemeth to surpass all sorrows, for as a few children are great delights so many to a poor man is cause of the greatest care that can happen.  
What can for travail and peril be compared to the wars? where men do labour, dygginge, & deluinge, sleaping in the winters snow, and marching in the summers son, watching, and warding, day and night, climbing the mountains and sailing the seas: sometimes afflicted with hunger, sometimes with thirst: yea and in the end, either to kyl or to be killed. So as no marvel it is, to see how willingly soldiers do behold the dysplaied ensygnes, and receive knowledge of battle, when either by happy victory they shallbe discharged of travail, or by death receive end of painful life. The Lacedæmonians therefore led so hard a life at home, as it never grieved them to serve abroad in the wars. Then is it manifest that in a common weal well governed, men be most unhappy, and happyeste be those Citizens, that live in most disorderly countries. And kings (whom men beguiled with false imagination do think equal to gods) are also followed with their afflictions. As finely the tragical poets have feigned the tragedies and furies to be only in kings courts, & the comodies & pleasant plays in private houses. The palaces of princes are ever open to great evils, neither are these monsters at any time from thence: as envy, hate, grudge, poison, & persecution. Yea the princess' mind is the seat of all these, whereby it is neither suffered to sleep quietly by night, nor rest by day. Now assaileth him the memory of wickedness, now the suspicion of familiars, now the mistrust of people, now fear of other princes, with care day and night to prevent their practices. But be it, the prince, be never so just, never so holy? yet fear and suspicion doth never want, and as the poet feigneth of Ixion and Lapithis.  Whom over hangs a stone that evermore, doth seem to fall. 
The bride beds fair are spread, and golden carpets shine full bright  
And precious princely fare, before, their face is set in sight.  
Then comes the foulest fiend, and all their dainties overbroodes.  
Forbidding them to touch, and from, their hands do snatch the foods and beats with burning brands.  
Such is the estate and condition of courts, as Virgilius living in the happy house of Augustus was well acquainted withal, But let us a while omyt to speak of princes, and turn our talk to private people. I can not with care or diligence find any, that in every respect can account himself free from misfortune, such a one I think as hardly found as are those beasts called Rinocerotes, of which kind Plynius confessed he could never find any, though long time he hunted through the whole world.  
Therefore saying all mortal men be subject to some kind of misfortune: who art thou y● seekest to live free from the law which all others are subject unto? why dost thou not complain, that thou art not made mortal, winged, and king of the hole world free from all misfortunes?  
But if thou can bear that lack which nature could not help, why shouldst thou not also be content with the other which is no less universal? & according to the fable, think thy calamities the less that thou seest the adversities of other to be greater. Men say that in old time, the hares being cast into desperation, for that of all other beasts they were most persecuted, consulted together and determined to drown themselves in the next river: being assembled on they went to execute their determination, the frogs that happened to be upon the bank, hearing the hare's coming for fear cast themselves into the water: which noise when the hares hard, they studied to know the cause, & finding that for fear of them the frogs were fled changed their intent: because the frogs more unhappy than they, sought notwithstanding to preserve their lives: and by the means the hares have till this day been preserved. Surely the adversity of others, did never make my miseries seem the less, but the necessyty of evil which is known by other man's misadventures, hath geeven me great allay of my private griefs. For when a man shall truly consider his myshaps to proceed of nature's necessytye, and not iniuriouslye, then will he yield himself to suffer all, unless that altogether he be void of judgement, simple and foolish. A wise man therefore foreseinge the necessyty of many my seryes, and well remembering, the frailty and instability of every condition of mankind, doth patiently look for all sorts of mysaduentures, & when they come, it is therefore meet he show himself armed with fortitude, lest changed by reason of their coming he may seem to forsake his honest determination, or else be unprovided. It is also to be considered that time is a medicine to all sorrows, it taketh away mourning, it breedeth forgetfulness of injuries, it removeth the memory of misadventures and finally bringeth forgetfulness and disdain of all sorts of calamities. What man hath been so impatient in fatherly affection, as doth take care for the death of his son, thirty years since departed? or his goods lost so long ago? Such is the condition of time, as first it deminisheth some part of extreme sorrow or joy, next it weareth away all fervency of affection, and lastly doth clearly rote it out of memory. Therefore sith the covetise of time doth in the most simple work this effect, why shouldst not thou do the same to thyself? and look what benefit time in short space should give thee, the same may thou through fortitude, learning, modesty, and good example give unto thyself. Persuade thyself, that thy displeasant days be near passed, and hope that better hap is at hand. Call to memory how many worthy men have undeseruingly & cruelly by fortune been cast down, and patiently suffered her most extreme disgrace.  
There is nothing more requisite in a wise man, than modesty to suffer both fortunes. For who so knoweth not how to do in prosperity, forgetteth he is mortal: there is no greater argument of wisdom, then when a man doth that presently which others by benefit of time have learned.  
Be not therefore burdenouse to thyself & though thou art chanced into this shadow of calamity yet cast not thyself down into very misfortune.  
Think assuredly that some be free from every evil, and that time bringethe with all the most certain and sure consolation.  
Not that we have all ready spoken of, but that which Averroes & other philosophers have written.  
When soberly thou consider that the life of man compared to the eternal world, is not a moment, and in that short time all to be vain, incertain and by assured law of nature short, so as it maketh no matter at all, what a one thou haste been or shalt be. And when with myself I imagine of this matter, I remember that which in books of common fables we read, where some are feigned rich men, some mighty kings, and some so strong, as for strength surpassed Hercules, what difference there should be betwixt these feigned men and Caesar or Pompey, till this day I could never learn, unless that either for our learning an history is made different from a fable. or that we have consideration of souls that live for ever.  
For otherwise when thou shalt no more be, it skilleth not at all what thou hast been. Only Folly of man hath found out this invention that we should persuade ourselves to be happy or unhappy, not only in this world, but also after in the opinion of others.  
Some I see most careful that after death they may leave behind them riches or fame.  
And enticed with such desire Herostratus burned the Temple of Diana▪, that thereby (though for wicked doing) he might gain eternal fame.  
But who was this Herostratus? by what father begotten? or of what mother was he born? In what country did he devil? what was his parson, or which ways did he live? what do we know hereby, other, then either to know nothing or a feigned man? And admit thou gain this desired glory? what shall it avail thee after three hundreth years whether thou were happy or unhappy?  
And if no glory be, within fifty years after death what difference shallbe betwixt a king and a Carl. Betwixt Lucullus and Irus betwixt Xenophon and Cleon, betwixt slaves and fremen, betwixt happy and unhappy. But lest perhaps thou live in doubt that time doth still abide, and the course of heavens be staid, or that the life of man doth not of necessity and speedily decay, behold that one stone where in was graved three Faces, a Child's, a Man's and an Old man's. So sudden are the changes and so near as the Poet doth not unfytlie call our age, Fleinge. Consider what number of years since the beginning of the world, and thine age have passed, so shalt thou learn, that no shadow more swiftelye fadethe away.  
Imagine assuredly that all time were passed, and so shall perceive that all will return to nothing. Not unlike to them that with certain Hope of deliverye remain in Prison, who though in misfortune, yet do but little lament, chiefly if they be of valiant mind. So men that in this troublesome life, sith they look for and abide one equality in respect of death, I can not conceive why happy folk should not be more sorrowful than those that be unhappy.  
For if even now it were proclaimed as it was in the time of Lycurgus that all lands & goods should equalye among all sorts of men be divided, whether dost thou think that beggars or rich men, would be most sorry? Surely I think no man thinketh the rich men would rejoice; and the poorer sort be sorry. If therefore law of life is so equalye made as there is none that can avoid, I see no cause but that every man here living in misery, aught willingly to embrace the benefit of so just a decree. What care I pray thee shalt thou have two hundred years hence, whether thou died having children or childless? old or young, rich or poor, & bound man or free, in thy bed or on the gallows, or whether in authority, or without honour thou lived or dyed? But folly hath brought in these opinions, by which we only become happy or unhappy. Because folly enduseth forgetfulness of reason: it maketh Pigmeans to seem Giants: sometimes our evils, sometimes our good it cloaketh, it multiplieth it maketh them obscure, it cloaketh it, increaseth, darkeneth, hideth, even as it pleaseth of us determineth. But if in this life there be any thing good or evil: or any different of pleasure or sadness, the same rests only in conscience and virtue of the mind. For the memory of wicked and sinful doings exceedeth all other torments.  
The heart of the wicked (as saith the prophet) foameth like the swelling seas: and their minds are ever vexed with fearful visions: because there is no greater affliction than when their guilty thoughts do continually accuse their consciences As the poet saith.  
Whose mind most guilty is, and harboureth cruel thought  
A secret scourge within himself, such sinful deeds have wrought  
And pains more great he tastes, whom whip of conscience beats  
Then did Seditius ever feel, or Radamantus freates  
Within thy breast to bear, thy grief both night and day,  
Thou hast at hand, that wytt to obtain, thy hidden woes bewray   

Of Comfort the second Book  
BEcause in the former book we have discoursed copiously, (as could be generally) of the comforting of all miseries, the consideration of every several evil, seemed scantly needful: seeing right reason, wise counsel, & then our talk might suffice to remove all sadness out of the mind of eeverye wise man, but for that it was our purpose at the beginning, to consider without affection, and with right judgement to speak diligently of every adversity that may happen to men: it seemed also more necessary for us to do the same, because some would think, those things which should be let pass, to be left untouched of purpose, rather because they could not be proved, then because they were superfluous. Moreover this history of evils hath both for variety and for example no small pleasure, wherewith it may wash away from the readers, that spot of sadness which is wont to be left of the sensible mind, and also of nature itself in great mishaps. For oftentimes, though reason comfort us and teach us that neitter mourning is meet, neither that there is any cause of mourning, yet the sad mind of itself can not be merry: which thing where if happeneth not seldom with out any adversity at all how much more like is it to be left behind in them that pine with long wearynes, not withstanding the very wound to be cured.  
Therefore that now we may return to our purposed talk: of all things that happen in man's life, sorrow, and death, be most bitter. For to be bereft of the company of our most dearly beloved for ever, and without hope, is wont to seem a most cruel thing unto all men. And death itself (as says the Philosopher) of all terrible things is most extreme, wherefore if any thing be able to shake a valiant and wise man, doubtless that ought to be the death of himself and his most near friends.  
For which cause I perceive excellent Poetes to have mourned both for there's and theimselues and also to have feigned others mourning for their friends. Among whom Papinius bewaileth his father saying.  
give wit and woeful voice, O Sire, let me my woes complain.  
For this the moon hath hid her face, and thrice come back again.  
Sith first I set me down, in sloth and sobbinge cheer  
No muse to comfort care.  
An other in the same cause. 
What man can make a spring of tears, to feed my gulf of grief  
Or who hath store of tears so great: and far from all relief.  
Pity hath bereft my sight, and heart hath cleft in twain,  
Which suffereth not my woes to sound, my tongue cannot complain  
Such is my grief.  But would to God this complaint, were not that which is commonly spoken of. The weeping of the heir is the weeping is of one that laugheth under a vizer: for so rarely is the tender love toward the parent's wont to be found, that none is less, Yet admit it were such as these verses express. Surely this book shallbe thought less needful in no part, then in comforting the sorrow which chanceth by the death of parents. For some examples there be of brothers which have slain themselves for their brothers, of parents for their children, and of husbands for their wives: but that love of children toward their parents hath been confirmed almost by no experience. Where by it happeneth that the complaint of Catullus may seem rather (as they say) to come from the heart. For thus he bewails his brother.  
Lo now my study stayed is, for cruel death have slain.  
My brother dear: shall I poor wretch in wretched life remain?  
The only hope of all our house, O death thou hast bereft me  
Mine earthly joy this brother was, none other joy is left me.  
Virgil counterfayteth a more bitter lamentation not without wrath and indignation of the mind, in Mezentius lamenting his slain son saying.  
My country wrought my woe, my friends did hate me all,  
If death had ta'en my guiltless soul, no grief had made me thrall.  
Lo yet among you men I live, and still enjoy this light  
But long I may not so.  
Yet how much more cruel sorrow is feigned of the same poet in the mother bewailing her only son Euryalus, for that she both a widow and an old woman, saw him slain cruelly in his enemies hands. There truly he containeth the womanly tenderness of heart in these words.  
Your deadly darts (O foes) for pity cast in me:  
With cruel sword before the rest, let me destroyed be.  
Else thou Almighty God, on me such mercy have,  
As that my wretched head may rest, within mine earthly grave.  
The slaughter of the son bewailed of the mother, in my judgement could not be better described of the Poet. And Homer brings in Achilles, sorrowing sore at the burial of his friend Patroclus, when he said.  
But him a careful cloud, did compass round about,  
And on his head with heavy hand, the dust he poured out.  
And after horribly he cried out. Yea so far forth is the vehemency of his sorrow declared, that his familiar friends feared jest he should kill himself. But another more moderately mourneth for his death, and complaineth of destinies, when no feigned fear in others, but his own enforced him saying.  
And in my greenest years, when youth hath hyest power,  
Shall this my spirit departed away, and death my corpse devour?  
The Gods I cannot guide, their will we must obey,  
Where destiny dryves I yield myself: with willing mind always.  
But while I set forth the follies of others, me think. I have framed a mourning ditty: and have not only described, but rather increased heavy mourning. Notwithstanding the very matter could not be unfolded unless I had also put to the judgement of Poetes, for that is the common people's opinion, not only because the Poets be careful to speak those things which be popular and liked of the common sort, but also for that if otherwise they would speak they could not, when they be so far wide from all study of philosophy. For which cause also they be shut out of Plato his common weal. And herein we must either condemn Plato if he banish them unjustly: or the Poets if he do it justly. Therefore surely the better opinion is that they be banished worthily: for agreeing with the people, they spoke those things which be in the opinion of the ignorant. For no man denies that wise men be few: and the common people containeth the most part of men: thopinions therefore of the Poets and the common people, in which they disagree with the Philosophers be all false, and unprofitable. Certes it is of necessity, that the opinion of the common sort is false: it the judgement of wise men be true: but who doubteth whether wise man's sayings be true? otherwise truly they should be no wise men. But if in any thing at all the Poets deserve small credit, no where less than in those things which concern manners and virtues.  
Neither is it any marvel though Archilochus a passing good Poet (but so much worse Philosopher) was compelled of the Lacedæmonians the very same hour that he came into town, to be packing away again, for writing this sentence. Better it is to want arms, then suffer death. verily many times lewd talk corrupteth honest manners.  
Therefore seeing we will speak of sorrow and death, it seemeth necessary first to examine whether in our own death, or in the death of our friends there be any evil: and if there be, whether the evil may be overcome by good, or rather the loss by gain. That shallbe easy to discern if ●irst we distinguish and diligently understand this: whether after we be dead, there remain any thing of us beside the body. Or all the whole dye away together with the body. In which cause although we have already spoken many things in the book De Areanis aeternitis, & minds to speak in the books of Death, yet is not this question, in this place meet to be shadowed whole with silence. But as in this Book chiefly we follow the truth, and every where briefenes, so one only reason of the reasonable soul shall suffice us for the knowing of his nature. For seeing man hath understanding, he is endued with many habits of knowledge. That is to say Science, as Geometrye, philosophy, and Logic. Arts, as Sailing, husbandry, Physic. Intelligence which is of principles, as that the whole is greater than any part thereof alone, and equal to all his parts together. Prudence, whereby he considereth and disposeth all things that he hath to do. And Sapience with these, by which he knoweth GOD and embraceth Religion. And some men do more excel in some one or other of these or in many of them, whereby it comes to pass that man doth so use his understanding and reason in his own art, as though in other things he may seem rude, yet in that one thing he exceedeth right notable men. Some though they have neither learning nor art, yet by reason of exercise prove very wise. That it may plainly appear, that man's understanding is in all men alike, and differeth only in exercise, we perceive in the barbarous & uplandishe men: Wherefore I wonder at the doltishnes of some which profess wisdom, who think that only learned men be reasonable, & others differ little from beasts. worthily therefore it cometh (as they say commonly) that the clean contrary falls out, that is to say, that these learned men beside their Book, know nothing at all, and may easily be beguiled of any unlearned soul.  
For if they would way with themselves, that all men (unless they be hindered with some disease) have the use of reason and understanding, and that so much the more in one kind of exercise, how much further they be from another, they should well perceive themselves to be overcome of them. What a number leaving their vile occupations, have proved famous Philosophers? Simon Coriarius when Socrates came often unto his shop, having talk with his apprentices become a perfect Philosopher, and left unto his posterity no small number of monuments. So he that was a currier, only by exercise is stertt up to be a Philosopher. The cunning therefore of artisanes and others that want learning is not to be despised as void of understanding. But as it is wont to be said, How far Megara is from Athens: so far is Athens from Megara. So, how far a learned man passeth an artysan in speaking, so far doth an artisan pass a learned man in his facultye. Of both than the reason is alike, the understanding a like, and nature all one, differing only in ends and use. But sing there is in other living creatures an excellency above that is in man, as memory in horses: strength and life as in the Elephant, power of sight, as in the Eagle: hearing as in the boar, touching as in the spider, swiftness as in the hare: and yet of those habits of knowledge no other living creature is any whit partaker, much less able to go beyond man in any of them. It is then most apparent that man's mind is severed from all corporal or bodily matter. verily whereas man in all those things, which depend of the body may be overcome of some living creature, and in these virtues of the mind no living creature is partner, not not of the jest part, it is not possible at all that the virtue of understanding should not be both separable, and unmixed and everlasting. Neither yet remaineth it naked and bore.  
For whereas of all other living things, the Dog, the Marmyset, and the Elephant be with out controversy endued with most wit, though a man would spend his whole life, he shall never teach them the lest rule of any Art or wisdom, besides that which of nature is bread in them. And surely to speak of the easiest thing, if you travail to learn them to undo a knot, they keep in memory how they may draw and slake, and so finally lose the knot: but if you change the knot never so little, they shall never know how to undo it, unless it be mere chance, so as you may well perceive they be utterly devoid of reason. Likewise fowls learn to speak, and (as the Poet saith) so well, that the Pie with him braggeth saying: If thou shouldst not see me, thou wouldst deny that I am a fowl. Never yet shall you plainly teach her what she should say, or any coupled sentence, to make a show of any print of reason. And the nearer they seem to attain unto man in speaking, so much surely is it well known that they be able to conceive no understanding. In like manner also dogs know their own names, & are by teaching learned to hunt fowls: but all these things they keep by memory, and truly cannot tell how to put or change any thing more than they be taught, what occasion soever they have. Neither is it to be supposed they know more things which for want of speech they cannot utter: seeing the aptest fowls to learn (among which is the Popingeye) although they can learn well to speak as men, be never more fit to any use of reason. Brutus beasts therefore be able for one only art by nature, and for all things universally only by memory, not conceiving reason at any time, neither by continual teaching their race, neither by process of time, neither by endeavour and diligence. Therefore as Aristotle hath taught, memory is no part of reason: but in deed with Plato, remembering is the same that understanding is with Aristotle. truly these two differre only in this, because Aristotle believeth the conceived forms of things come newly into the mind, he giveth them the name of understanding: but Plato thinketh they be born in our mind, wherefore he termeth it memory Of neither of these two, therefore sing they be the powers of reason, alone can any brute beast be partaker, but only of that which Aristotle calleth memory, Plato opinion. But because Plato in every place useth names of things confusely, he attributeth unto men, recording or everlasting memory, being part of reason: unto other living creatures opinion and memory, lately conceived of the fences. And it appeareth plainly that that art proper unto beasts is simple of nature, not of any skill, in that it is most excellent in Swallows and pismiers, and other vile and base creatures far wide of all perceiving. For if it were wrought by discretion as arts be in men, it should be so much more fine, by how much the living beast were more excellent in sense & memory. But it happeneth otherwise when dogs, horses, & Elephants know not how to do any such thing as either the swallow, the pysmyer, or the worm. There should be also in them as in men, imperfections and diversities about the same Art, yea and passing over into the like works as there is in men, of which forasmuch as there is none, it cannot be doubted that this is wholly the institution of nature. And to speak generally, if any brute thing could have even the shadow of reason, it were simply necessary that a reason framed of two particular propositions should infer a conclusion, which no way can be. Therefore be brute creatures governed only by nature, not by reason. But certainly sing nature itself the mistress and teacher of the living creature, is doubtless immortal, though the living creature be mortal. How much more necessary is it, that man's understanding, which knoweth all the Arts of all living things, and more and more excellent, besides also the disciplines and principles, God & all the furniture of Heaven and the Elements, besides these to be immortal and uncorruptible? For as nature itself is not the living thing, but that which doth teach the living thing, and therefore remaineth when the living thing dieth: So contrariwise whereas understanding is the whole man, and itself knoweth the same, as long as the understanding remaineth, the whole man is also uncorruptible, though the body vanish away. Wherefore me think Crito was rightly reproved of Socrates. For when Crito for good will asked of him where he would be buried (for now had Socrates in prisonne drunken his poison ready to dye) He answered, alas what labour have I lost, that could not persuade Crito, that I shall fly away from hence all whole. For the soul though it be most simple, yet comprehendeth it all virtue in man, not receiving many virtues because it hath divers parts, but according to the nature and quality of those things which be handled of it, it is called Intelligence and judgement, and wit, and deliberation, and will, and prudence, and sapience, & Arte. Also brute beasts must needs clearelye want all these things. For neither doth any of them use either judgement, or deliberation, or will (properly called) or intelligence, or counsel, but are all equally and universally void of all these, like as on the contrary part all men are furnished with these. Forsooth because their nature, which is understanding or soul, or reasonable mind, containeth and is by possibility all these. And therefore is transformed into every one of them, even as it listeth. Wherefore I wonder not a little at their vanity, who esteem men only of temperate Regions for reasonable: and imagine the inhabitants of the furthest Elements of the earth like wild beasts, and to have the monstruous shapes that Solinus the Cosmographer describeth. But sure they be much deceived in judgement. A few years since Leonarde Apisan when he travailed into India and Ethiopia, brought out of India Arithmetic, and out of Ethiopia, Algebras Arte of reckeninge: Arguments of most fine wits. No man almost denieth the Aegipsians to be inventors of all Arts, but chiefly of Astronomy. lately john Mounteregio of Germany, and Gulihelmus a Zelander a man of excellent wit, Erasmus of Roterdame an Hollander, and now all the north Countries floweth in good learning. What an impudent matter is it, that they will compare their wits with beasts, and prefer ours more dull to them: from whom out of Africa and Sarmatia be brought arts of great subtiltye, as we Italians are no way able to imitate the same. The temperate country hath neither better wits nor quicker minds, but only more gentle manners, and more moderate affections, wherein the plenty of all things helped with the clemency of the air, laboureth to challenge to itself the chief parts. But if the armies of the Romans had not been, Italye for fine wits had lyen still, and given place to a great many of provinces. So Greece passed the Barbarians, in study, not in wit. What makes it matter that the Barbarians are more inclined unto some affections of the mind, that therefore they should be said to have less reason? whereas we may see for the most part famous men to have been naturally prove unto anger, by reason of the subtle humour so plentifully feeding those parts of the sense which serve unto the reasonable mind. Neither for all that, ought angry persons to be called unreasonable, unless it be in this sense, that they suffer the reasonable power of the soul to much, to be overcome of the affections of the body. In which sense if it like them to call the inhabitants of the furthest climates unreasonable, I agreed that they be more ready to yield unto vices. Not for that they want any thing at all of the reasonable power of the mind, when commonly they exceed us in wit, and counsel, and subtiltye of arts. For I ask this question, if two men be equally rich, and the one useth his riches, the other will not, shall we therefore call him the poorer who useth them not. All the noble Philosophers therefore seeing this, and being enforced to define the soul immortal, and never fading, were fain to fly with lie and all to the unity of it▪ seeing in deed our understanding to be unfadeable, but nevertheless to be all one in all men. Marry this they affirm, some one way and some another. For some (as Auerr●es) make both the passive and agent all one, each one of them separable, but the one the form of a man, the other a certain accidental thing, and utterly separate from the man. Some other more reasonable of these opinions, hold that the agent only cometh from without yet not so to be coupled unto man that it may be simply his form and part of him: But as for that that Averroes affirmeth of the double understanding, I never found it with Aristotle. Forsooth it is all one which cometh from without, and is not unseparable, all the rest proceed of the matter and virtue of the seed. But to make in man two understandings, and both everlasting is a marvelous absurdity. But this at this time is nothing to us, let us now show that understanding which is not mixed, and cometh from without, that it cannot possibly be all one only. For if it were such a one, and also the form of man, how could it afore it were exercised in us, be compared to a bore shaven table, being already imprinted with all manner of discipline in others. All men should also a like continued, yea then (that is more) all men should be one man, because their form should be one in number, and one thing that understandeth. And if it be not the form, what is more fond then to say man understandeth, when understanding itself is no part of man. Although these things be very trifles, yet let us bestow them on these good fellows, and fetch up again the foundation from the bottom. Either this only and everlasting understanding is only in men: or else as it were a Son being separate in substance, it assisteth all men with the light. If it be in men only, how is it severed? how cometh it from without? how doth it not flow from the power of the seeds? yea what more excellency hath man then other living things? seeing they have both everlasting matter, and nature of whom they be governed unfadable: for so to continued, is no otherwise to remain the same thing, then in likeness, not in number. For the same power should be nature in an other living creature, and understanding in man. But herefore is the living creature governed of an other thing, because nature cannot be the same that the living creature is, because that, of which it is governed, continueth still when the living creature is dead. If therefore man be ruled of himself and that be immortal which ruleth it cannot be one in divers, for nature which ruleth is severed from the living things, that it being one might serve many▪ but the power of understanding is coupled in man. Wherefore one power of understanding, cannot serve many men, but every man hath his own understanding assigned him by himself. But it doth not as it were a son, shine unto us without us, first for that we perceive ourselves to understand, none otherwise them to have sense. But sense is proper unto us, and all the foundation thereof is part of us, ergo our understanding also. Then moreover and if it should shine without, we should be governed of an other thing, as the brute beasts be, which for no other cause are governed of an other thing, then that same of which they are governed without them. But this is a thing most proper unto us men, that we should command ourselves. For the virtue within us, moveth our limbs, because it cometh from understanding (is ruled with a strange and foreign rule, doth always obey after one sort, and is not our own simply, nor known unto us, but we use it not knowing, how we use it. And so of those things which come from other where, we be not full masters of them. So beasts because they be governed by the motion of the natural power, and sense, which hath an outward or foreign cause, in like sort be quite void of liberty, and utterly subject to an others government, nothing differing in their affections from the sense and service which the members in man are wont to do unto the wil For if those members be hurt, of their own accord, & without the commandment of will, they shrink back, although they know not wherefore they so do. Moreover and if understanding were without us, we should no more differ from other living creatures, than they do one from an other, and needs it must follow, the bruit beasts should not want understanding. Forasmuch as in the same manner the nature both of bruit beasts and men should be illumined in the same sort, & of the same eternal causes. And now is it showed how brutish living creatures are for ever, by no kind of means able to attain unto even the lest shadow of that part which is reasonable, but by memory, or else nature sometime to have given a certain show of some conceived reason. Wherefore it is manifest the mind of men to be heavenly and divided according to the number of men neither fading nor waxeing old at any time. But like as the beams of the son, if they fall upon a thick shadowed place or cloud do not shine bright, but if they light upon glass, or water, or crystal, shine so much the brighter, how much clearer the matter is: and yet these beams be no purer nor more lasting than the other, but be a like perpetual: So the minds of men when the parts in which they chief shine▪ be decayed either by age or by sickness, do cease to use their proper glistering, and faculties so that unto some men they seem to fade, when for all that in no part they are made either faulty, or faint, or sickly, but continued, sound & untouched even to death: & flitting from thence give unto us a probable opinion of them, for otherwise how could any man judge the minds of good men for ever blessed and happy, the minds of evil men wretched and unhappy. Hereupon groweth the opinion of Plato, that after the worlds end man's souls should return to their bodies. Other think they die not till the world be consumed with fire, which after long time they look for, and of that mind be the stoics. By either of which Philosophers, sing nothing we have assuredly confirmed I meaned not to say much, supposing it should suffice to have showed that the souls of all men do remain after with those faculties which be most properly there's, As will, understanding, wisdom, knowledge, deliberation, reason, the knowledge of arts and such like virtues. But now let us return to our determined purpose. It was agreed the death could be neither evil, nor worthy to be lamented, for proof whereof, the disputation of the immortality of the soul was no more necessary, then as men say to light a candle at mydnoneday, for death did never seem less grievous to any, then to those that afterdeathe believed no life at all. Nevertheless sith we have fallen into this talk, and now do assuredly know, it is also our determination to instruct others. Let us therefore show that death is neither evil nor to be bewailed, and most dishonest of all it is, a man either to lament or fear his own departing, from life, which no pity nor mercy can prevent. But fear, imperfection of nature, & to much desire of life must nedelye be the cause, yet hereof why is thy care so great, or what happiness hast thou, that mightest make thy life so desired? dost thou alone possess any delight that we have not tasted of, which might make thee wish for longer life? For every of us have seen that stars, the Heaven, mountains, seas, rivers, lakes, fields gardeines, Cities and towns, we have also had sport, dalliance, music, songs, banquets, venerye, love, maskerye, & finally every sort of earthly folly, neither have we wanted commendable exercise and indifferent skill of science, and besides that, we know the manner of contentions, disputations, public Orations. Yea for our condition we have born dignity and office, we have satisfied the honest desires of our children, friends & kinsfolks, and together with them lived in glory, money, apparel, and other necessaries of life, we have enjoyed: and in every of them found greater offence than pleasure, so as we may say with the Prophet Vanitas vanitatem & omnia vanitas.  
Yet if any man hath found a more noble felicity, or can teach a way more strait to happiness or new delight, I know not, but for my part in every thing have felt more grief than pleasure. But I think it happeneth to these men that lust so much after life, as it doth to those that laboureth alteration of metals, who find every thing sooner than that they seek, for besides that they make neither gold nor silver, the little which they have is also consumed. Euenso, such as with greatest care do seek for felicity, not finding it, do with loss of their labour, also depart with quietness of mind, and become most unhappy. Wherefore sith this exceeding desire of life helpeth nothing, yea though life were good, yet were it better without trouble to say by his mass of cares and like a faithful man restore that thou hadst borrowed. But if perhaps thou in vain torment thyself, what, dost thou win thereby, other then to consume in dying that little life which is remaining: seeing what soever time is spent in thinking of death, may justly be so called. How much were it better to follow the counsel of. Agathius who right well commended death saying, that it did not only remove sickness & all other grieves but also when all other discommodities of life did happen to man often, it never would come more than once. Neither can death be accounted any extreme evil considering it cometh of most light occasions and is on every side at hand. Such things as we take for hurtful be also rare & not lightly found, but there is nothing more commonnor more quickly had then death. For death is taken by air, wind, thunder, water, fire, earthquakes, wild beasts, fish, fowls, dust, smoke, serpents, meat, drink, bed, trees, sleep, sorrow, joy, laughter, company, anger, discord, and finally of innumerable other occasion's death doth proceed. Philomenes sing his Ass eating raisins said unto his boy, seeing thou hast left the Ass raisins to eat, give him also wine to drink, fallen into a great laughter and not being able to stay himself, coughing he died. Coma the brother of Diogenes the notable thief, being by Rutilius the Consul taken and examined touching outlaws fled, he required time to think of his answer, & putting down his head betwixt his knees he stopped his own breath, and in the hands of his keeper died so quietly, as none of them perceived when he took the last leave of life.  
Seeing therefore with such ease men dye, what should we account of death to be resembled to any thing better than sleep, for as in sleep and waking be we never so hedeful, yet feel we not when it cometh: even so when from life we pass towards death, our senses declining without all sense, at last we dye. When Socrates had drunk poison & delivered his garment to his servant ready to dye did notwithstanding jest with Crito: saying. I pray the remember to sacrifice a cock to Asculapius, for that was the ancient custom when any man had drunk a wholesome potion. Dost thou then think he felt any extreme gryefe? surely no, for in extreme pangs jesting is never seen nor the mind knoweth not itself. This is also greatly to be marveled at, that though every man seemeth to fear and fly death: yet seek they to eschew nothing less, but rather follow every thing that bringeth death withal. Neither seem they less careful to seek death then to shun it. The lecherous man without regard of life prefereth his pleasure, the ireful revenge, the eater his gluttony the ambycious honour, the covetous riches: the soldier spoil: the mother children, the merchant traffycke: the student learning, and in some: there is nothing that doth not occasion forgetfulness of death. So we plainly see that we both shone and seek for death, but not without good cause, for that there is nothing that hath in it less evil, and they are therefore worthy praise that do disdain to dye, if those things for which they neglect life be either honest or necessary, and yet, for light causes to seek death is no token of courage, but rather a sure sign of an abject mind.  
Therefore the contempt of life is not so commendable, as intemperancy is reproachful, and yet as the fear of death is not to be praised, so not to dye chyeflye at necessary occasions and times, is most reproachful cowerdly and exceadeth all other vylety of mind. But some percase do allow the saying of Epicarinus. die I would not, but to be dead I care not. As though that which followeth death is neither pleasant, or not greatly evil. Alas what evil can it be to want hunger, thirst, gryefe, labour▪ sadness, fear, and finally the whoole heap of evils, which the soul being parted from the body we must of necessity want, and seeing it dieth not, but in stead of these troubles, enio●eth heavenly joys: why should we not acoumpte this change good and most delectable?  
Therefore Socrates was wont to say, that death might be resembled either to sound sleep, a long journey, or destruction, as is the death of bruit beasts: If the soul doth live and after death feeleth nothing, then is it like unto a sound sleep, because therein we rest without either felinge or understanding, and after a while return to the same exercises. most assured it is that such sleeps are most sweet as be most sound. For those are the best where in like unto dead men we dream nothing. The broken sleeps, the slumber, and dreams full of visions, are commonly in them that have weak and sickly bodies. Whereupon Horatius saith.  Vain are the dreams, of sickly folks. 
But quiet and sound slepes and such as weary men commonly have, are accounted sweetest.  
So Homer ●doth call those sleeps the best, that be most like to death. And Virgil.  The sweet and sound sleep, which death resembleth most. 
I remember my father Faucius Cardanus while he lived was wont to say that he ever desired death, because while he sound slept he tasted the pleasantest part of life, (meaning as I think) that every pleasure, that we take by our senses hath in it more displeasure, than sweetness. And therefore there could be nothing better, then to lack the knowledge of them. But common opinion hath compared death to sleep, rather than travail or destruction (therefore Homer doth call it brazen sleep. Virgil iron sleep, either of which importeth forgetfulness of all things, the allay of cares, dullness of senses, & careless mind of hap to come. Betwixt sleep and death this only difference there is, that in death, the time of quiet is longer. Diogenes being sick, & sleaping, was asked of his physician how he fared, to whom he answered well, for (quoth he) one brother envieth an other, Such was the security of his mind: as even at point of death he feared not to jest. In like manner did Cosmas Medici's, a wise man in our age who being nerse death, closed his eyes, which his wife seeing, asked why he so did, he answered that he did it to bring his eyes in custom. For in deed the eyes of dead men, are neither broad open, nor close shut. And so I think the Poet did well know saying.  
Is not our sleep (O fool) of death, an Image plain?  
For fatal course shall bring a rest, that ever will remain.  
But if thou compare death to long travail and that the soul being let loose from prison of the body seethe all things and walketh every where.  
Than what can be considered more happy. For the soul being burdened with the body, is neither free, nor rightly knoweth any thing, but being overladen with cares, doth behold, only the figure of things, and as it were through a web or cloth, guesseth a sight, and certainly knoweth nothing, but being free, doth not only cast of all hyndraunce, but also beholdeth all things without interruption, which being true, who is he that willingly would eschew death? yea who is he that would not rather do as Theombrotus Ambrociota did? who having read Plato's book of the immortality of souls, cast himself headlong down from a wall not feeling any offence or other natural sickness, but only for desire of such heavenly happiness as spirits were partakers of. Therefore men say that Socrates being by Crito persuaded to fly from prison, aswell for saving himself, as his friends and kinsfolks refused to do it, answering wisely. O Crito my children shallbe left in charge to God, which gave them. As for friends I am going into those parts where I am assured to find as good or haply better than they be. And at length I doubt not but you will also offer me your company meaning thereby, that the life of man was of small continuance.  
Such were the words of Socrates thinking that death necessarily might be compared to one of these three, and most like of all to travail, which may also be conjectured by dreams.  
For there is nothing that doth better or more truly prophesy the end of life, then when a man dreameth, that he doth travail and wander into far countries, and chief, if he imagineth himself to ride upon a white horse, that is swift, and that he travaileth in country's unknown without hope of return, in such sort naturally de●yninge of that shortly will come to pass in deed. But if death be resembled to destruction, which as is all ready proved is most impossible, yet can it no ways be accounted evil: Because what so ever is not, can not be evil, else we should lament for them that never were born, nor never were at all, and they that are not can nothing suffer.  
But if thou bewailest thy change, sure it is that Death doth take away more evils, than it bringeth, and those more certain. And although Death were evil, and brought with it but one only commodity which Epicharinus spoke of, because the parting from Life was painful: yet by death art thereof delivered, for in all evils, to have escaped is a great comfort. If then death be evil, to be dead is to escape, but if it be good, thou haste no cause to lament. And that, the one, or the other is, who doubteth?  
I remember now that, long since happened to myself (neither do I think to digress from the purpose) that albeit the twenty and seventh year of mine age, I become sore sick of a single Tercian, after Seven fits I ●ounded, and lay for dead. In which time although every member was almost deprived of his virtue, yet felt I neither grief nor pain, other than a certain tickling throughout my whole body, even such as we feel in using venery.  
Therefore as I said being in such estate I feeled nothing worse than that this tickelinge where in was not so great pleasure as in Venus' Sport. And there with all a certain Fear, least in deed I should dye, and truly as touching Sense or Strength I found small difference though the peril were great.  
Afterwards asking of many that had been near Death, whether therein they felt any great evil or not, who answered that in the Headeache, and in every other sickness of the Body was greater Grief.  
I found that in mine opinion of Death conceived, I did not err at all.  
That proof may also be had, that although Children and women be most fearful to receive all sorts of medicines, and yield to cutting of veins, yet being ready to dye do neither complain nor lament, but rather are offended if we seek to preserve their lives. Who cannot therefore conjecture, that in death there is either none evil at all, or very little, saying those pains which we fear most are in dying not regarded. This is also worthy to be noted that they that hope of no life to come, do no less valiantly dye than they that believe the soul immortal. As Cassius who having killed Caesar, with the same dagger that Caesar was slain, aspecting no messenger of death slew himself, so did Marcus Antonius, and Sardanapalus king of the Assyrians did cast into the fire not only himself but also, his bed and his concubines, but that he believed no life after death is known by these verses.  
Now eat, now drink, now make good sport:  
For sith thy self on earth, a mortal man do see  
Take here thy fill of earthly joys, no joys hereafter be.  
Therefore albeit it were that with the body the soul did perish: yet death could not be either evil grievous, or any ways to be feared, yea such as so believe are in greatest security for not being subject, to judgement and free from all suspicion of mind either of punishment or reward, which thing doth most torment men that are ready to take leave of life. But thou shalt believe all rather than this, that the soul perysheth with the body. For as it is not altogether certain what doth presently follow death: so is it most assured that the soul of man, doth never dye whereof although none other proof were then the consideration of life, and death, yet death is patiently to be suffered: because there is nothing more hard or miserable than this life. Besides that by warning of god we are thereof assured. Also all wise men have so thought, and in things inevitable the best is ever to be choose. To return therefore to the beginning, what is our life? other than a continual toil, evermore bond to abide the discommodity of so many necessities, so much labour, so many suspicions and peril. There is no delight in man, that repentance followeth not. I am revenged, then beware: I have eaten my fill: fullness doth offend me. I have lightly dined, mine appetite is not satisfied: I follow Venus sport: manifold repentance, sadness and in the end sickness doth ensue. And finally either thy desire is not satisfied and there by thou still discontented: or else with satiety, repentance, and discomoditye doth torment thee. So the only way is to keep that mean. For what cause have all the Gods of the gentiles preferred death before the life of man?  
Unless it were the worldly misery was to them most apparently known. Pindarus telleth that when Agamedes and Trophonius had builded the temple of Apollo, they desired of the Gods, this reward, that where as Apollo, had willingly promised to return within seven days, that they in the mean time might continued in banqueting, and joyful life: but in the end of those days, in a sound sleep they died, whereby Apollo plainly taught that for mortal men there was no greater reward than death: after that time the same▪ God confirmed the meaning upon Pindarus who being by the Bo●tian Ambassador asked what thing it was that best could happen to man? Pithius answered, that Pindarus do prove true which already he hath written of Agamedes and Trophonius which if he doth, he himself must shortly follow.  
In which answer the Poet did mean that he should look for Death: where in he was not deceived for within a few days he died in deed.  
Plutarch in an Epistle of Comfort written to Apollon●us, telleth this history: When Midas had in Hunting taken Silenus (this Silenus was of the satires stock, nourished by Bacchus, who was also called Silenus, Surnamed Satyrus) of whom many descended he written (as Plyny tellethe) of wantonness and there in feigned three Sileni. He asked of him what was most to be desired of man? Whereunto he answered not, but at length enforced by the importunacy of the King, broke forth in this sort.  
O you tormented Devils the seed of one day why constrain you me to speak, that which were better for you if you never knew it? That is, that the ignorance of your own evils, is the only pleasure of man's life. But seeing you know your own evils, the best were not to be born, and next to that, not to live long.  
And your condition is such as you are partakers of no part of those good things which nature hath made, this spoke Silenus. The sentence of the Philosophers do also here unto agreed and Aristotle prince of the Peripatician sect, doth call those most effeminate that murder themselves, and those valiant which can abide Travail, pain, Misfortune, and all sorts of misery which opinion the Poet followed saying.  
In fortunes high disgrace: each man may death disdain.  
But he most valiant is, that can, in wretched state remain.  
But Plato chief of the Academian Sect, saith that a man aught not to yield to Death, because we are ignorant whether it be good or evil, meaning that in respect of punishment or joy, that followed it was evil or good, because death was the end both of good and evil.  
Therefore even in the whole scripture death is not accounted other then sleep, and to dye is said to sleep. What marvel is it then though for Hope of Life to come, we aught not to shun to dye. We find that Saint Paul wished to dye and go to God, which desire aught to be not only in Holy men, but also in all good men.  
For three sorts of evils there be that may happen to men. The first within us and our minds, with which temperancy do mete.  
The second without us, and they by wisdom are prevented. The third are those, that all be it they be in deed without us, yet are they unevitable, and against them none other defence we have then fortitude. And I pray you, to what purpose should fortitude serve, if to fear death were either good or necessary? As therefore temporaunce and Wisdom are proffytable for Man: So is also fortitude, yet what profit could proceed thereof, if necessarily we feared death? or if that fear were either good or honest, sith of necessity, death must come to man one time or an other, one of these three must necessarily follow, either that like unto beasts we should be ignorant of death, which cannot be, either that with willing mind we will dye: or else that we torment ourselves.  
Were it not more natural to man (and the rather sing that bruit beasts with ignorance escheweth the fear of death) that he wisely in place of ignorance should use fortitude, given him by God against the necessity of death. Neither can we think that God hath more favourablye foreseen for bruit beasts than men, yet they, without all care do yield to dye. So we armed with fortitude ought not to fear any death. What profit can we procure to our country or friends? or what good can virtue bring, if we disdain to dye? Callicratides the Lacedaemonian captain hearing the Soothsayer pronounce victory to the Lacedæmonians and death to himself, answered: Sparta by loss of me shall nothing at all be weakened. How noble were the deeds of men that feared no death, how happy was their lives, how commendable were their ends? how glorious was their fame? and in brief, wh● refuse we to yield to that equality, wherein a common parson is like a king, a monster like a most seemly man, a tyrant like the simple & most harmless soul. The huge army of Xerxes, neither the treasure of Tiberius, nor the cruelty of Antonius, against death did any thing prevail. All men are subject to one equality (excepting true virtue) there shallbe no difference, and thereinto without disdain, hate, envy, or wrong, to nature, by destiny we shallbe all called, though no man is expert in that journey. Only false opinion of man hath made death to be accounted a fearful thing, not unlike as those that have not the experience of travail, study, or concourse of kings do make of them great admiration: when others that are acquainted with such things, do know them without marvel at all. And some we see without experience have disdained death, & for light causes killed themselves. Of which number was Dioxippus the Champion, who through envy of the Macedonians falsely accused of theft before Alexander, & protesting the injury, with his own sword slew himself: we have also seen a scholar a country man of ours, for not being requited in love at the hands of a gentlewoman in Padua, with poison procured his own death: One other in our City, having sustained loss by the price of corn, willingly hanged himself. One other (and he also of our Nation:) finding he could not with commodity pay his dettes, threw himself into a water and so drowned: I myself did see a woman who for very sorrow that she had committed adultrye (asking God forgiveness for her offence) suddenly drank poison. Cleopatra although she might have lived in honour, yet because she would not be carried about in triumph, caused a Serpent to bite her body, & thereof willingly dyed: Porcia the daughter of Cato and wife to Brutus (in honest life far excelling Cleopatra) hearing that her husband was slain did eat burning Coals and thereof died. For 'cause more just died Democles a Boy of notable beauty in Athens. He being by the king watched when he should enter naked into a bath, (and knowing the king meant to abuse him) cast himself into the bottom of the hot water and so presently dyed. The death of Lucretia is well known, who violently bereft of her honour, sticked herself: The want of success and not will, was cause that Alexander the great escaped voluntary death: for having in drunken mode slain his friend Clitus, he would presently in the house have murdered himself, from which doing in space of three days both by force & suit he could scantly be entreated to refrayn, and afterwards being at the siege of Sudracarus a city in India, he leapt from the wall into the town of purpose to dye. For by mean thereof he did both fall far, and alone among his enemies, but fortune would not permit that success he desired. This book would not receive the number of ensamples of such, as for fear love, grief, anger & other occasions of no weight have sought their own deaths: Besides whom we read of hole legions that have offered themselves to apparent destruction. As they did that were with Leonida against the Persians' and fought near unto Thermopile.  
What would these people have adventured for great cause, or if death were a great evil, that upon so light occasion did not refuse to dye. From which determination no respect of age, sex, or honour, could fear them: But I see what thou will't say? death I do not fear, for as it is not evil, so is it necessary, and to fear that is of necessity, were vain, cowerdlye and hurtful. Yet would I dye easily, and old, such a death as Augustus desired and did obtain. For by living old I shall not only gain a longer life, but also a more easier death. Aristoteles in his Book De Respiratione thinketh that very old men died not only without pain, but also without any feeling of death, because the heat of their bodies was quenched, which may appear by this example: If thou go about to draw a tooth, that is not lose, thou feelest great pain, but if of itself it were lose before, without any grief at all it cometh away. Even so green youth with extreme pain do yield to death: but old folk in dying feel no grief almost at all: As the tragical Poet saith.  In slumber sweet, the aged spirit departeth. 
How can it be other than that death is grievous to young men, when as sleep against nature is offensive. Often times it happeneth that such as upon custom seek sleep at untimelye hours become thereby dry, pined, and slothful, so as in steed of delight they get disease. Theophrastus' being ready to dye (though he were an old man) complained of Nature: because she had ordained so long life in stags & Ravens (all most unprofitable beasts) and to man, being the most noble & wisest creature allowed so short a term to 〈◊〉 in. What may they say then that dye in the flower of their youth, have they not just cause to lament? Surely no. But here the reason why nature hath not: among other creatures made man of longest life, and then that he that dieth in youth doth suffer nothing more grievous than they that live old. For first it is doubted of many, (and chiefly of Aristotle, whether any creature (the Elephant except) doth live more long then man. Because he maketh no mention either of the Phenixe, the Crow, the Raven or the Stag: nor affirmeth them to be of longest life. But let us confess that which is imputed in Virgil, though it doth little import to the matter, where he speaking of men saith.  A life more long nine times, the cackling Crow doth live. 
But confessing with Aristotle that the Elephante doth live more long than man: why need we contend whether man be of one or more creatures in long living excelled? Omittinge also that the holy Scripture affirmeth life more long to man then other living creatures: let us now dispute that that already is taken in hand, that is to say, for what cause some beasts be of longer life than man? The reason is this: seeing all creatures are made either for the use or honour of man▪ they were framed according to the discretion of Nature: at which time she made their minds, as well for their bodies, as their bodies for their minds: & were therefore made simple with few instruments, as plain things to endure long. But the body of man being made only for his mind, needed many more instruments, to th'end that the understanding might the more fitly do his office. Therefore although Nature hath made for man the best proportion of body, yet could she not give thereunto the longest life, by reason of exceeding concavities, and subtilnes of the members: which if they were great (besides that we should be all Giants) they would be troublesome each one to other. Which is well proved in that no creature hath so infinite members or part of members, which were of necessity made small & slender, to the end they might the rather be fit to yield: & so the breath (an instrument of the soul) become the more subtle. Wherefore nature hath not in this behalf omitted any part of her duty▪ but rather with such diligence helped our life, as for the length thereof we have no cause to complain, which is now well proved in the people of India latest found, where men live commonly a hundredth and thirty years, because there the air is good, and the people without cares. But we continuing incares, riot, & untimely labour, choosing air for profit & not health, yea altogether forgetting the length of life, we cast ourselves into extreme sickness, discommodities of body and present death, without cause accusing nature, for the shortness of our lives: How much better were it to know which way to use the benefit of nature? if so dear & pleasant a thing thou dost account this life? what is the cause that Philosophers and Hermits have lived so very long? & yet their to great stinens and earnest contemplation hindered their health? unless it were because they lived void of care and temperately. How much were this rule of living to attain long life more delicate, then to feed upon flesh and honey? But in this age men continued carefully in labours and care, watching the half night basking in Venus bathe, abiding in cloudy Regions, and not in good air, & drinking boiled wines: do notwithstanding complain of short life. And howsoever in deed our lives be short, it is opinion that doth make it so to appear. The people called Garamantes do not live above forty years. I omit to speak of the Pigmeians as people rather feigned then in deed, but we if we die before fifty or threescore, do think that justly we lament: and yet who so dwelleth in those countries do highly thank God if he attaineth forty years, and thou living much elder do nevertheless complain. Surely every life is long that is continued till death sith at the beginning the term is destined, and as saith the Poet.  In birth we breed our death, our end, on first beginning hangs. 
Read we not in holy Scripture, that the number of days and months is appointed by God? he hath set the term which cannot be passed. The life of man therefore is ended with old age: for old age is the last part of life. Old age is also the necessity of death: wheresoever therefore death is necessary, old age draweth near Whoso dieth in youth in this only is the more happy, that he escapeth the discommodity of old age, will thou make life to seem long or short by comparison? A kind of beasts there be called, Ephemera which are made in the morning, and before son setting do dye. If happily they dye at noon, their life is called short: but if they continued till night, they account it long, and yet it exceedeth not twelve hours. We marvel at flees for their long life, if they live two summers, and at flees that continued three months. Yet which of these is thought any thing towards man's life? we call dogs old that pass a leaven years of age: but a man passeth all these in long living though he dieth in youth. But the life of man must not be accounted long or short: in respect of his years. The life of all mortal men is but short: because with death it shallbe most certainly ended: It is virtue & worthy acts that maketh the life long, and idleness that shorteneth thy days. Alexander, though he lived not above thirty three years, died an old man, through the greatness and number of his noble exploits. Argantonius having lived a hundredth and twenty years, may be said to have dyed in youth, because (besides the rareness of his age) in all his life he never did any thing that deserved memory. It aught also worthily to be noted that for the most part, all notable men have dyed in their youth. Among the kings none almost continued to old age, Hercules, Athilles, Castor, Pollux, Ajax, jason. Among the Poetes Lucanus, Catullus, Tibullus, neither was Vigil long lived, neither Demostenes nor Cicero: how true, yea to true is the saying of the Poet.  Their lives are short, and age is rare: where life doth lack good rule. 
JULIUS CAESAR Severus, Alexander, Probus, Aurelianus, Claudius the second of that name died in youth: which men a I think lived the less, the more honest they were, because being dear to the Gods were the sooner called unto them. whereupon grew that saying from the Poetes, whom jupiter and Apollo do love, do never attain to old age. This is also to be noted, that choice is to be looked for, where will may any ways avail: but in thy power it is not to make thy life, either more long or more short. Yet if thou can do it, there is none offence at all, but if thou cannot, thou lamentest thy shortness of life for no greater reason, than thou may thy mortality. And that care of things impossible is vain, & only proper to fools. But admit thou may continued thy life and become old, art thou not thereby the more unhappy? because thou losest that singular commodity which by God almighty is given to men for the allay of sorrow: which is ignorance of time. While we continued young, we live meerelye, because we imagine death is not at hand: But how can old men think that death is far away? when already they are entered the last end of life. How true and worthy memory is that saying of S. Austen, A young man may soon dye, but an old man cannot live long. And yet no couse there is why thou should not be sorry, sing a young man may also dye sun. Sith th'end of life is unknown, a young man never aught to despair whether he laboureth of deadly diseases, or be cast into cruel torments and prison. The chances of mortal creatures, do show that men are subject to law of nature and fortune: so as without cause they love certainties for most incertenties of al. But admit thou dost attain to old age itself? how many evils cometh thereby? labour, grief▪ sadness, loss of senses, disdain: & (the which is almost worst of all) as Caecilius doth well describe, thereby thou shalt see they company of all men eschewed: unwelcome are old men to their children, unwelcome to friends, disdained of young men, and odious to their own familiars. Their senses serve not their bodies, their bodies obey not their minds, they pass the night without sleep, and eat without all taste. They loath themselves, how should they be pleasant to others? We read that when Zeno Citieus could not dye with age, he strangled himself. What diligence and travail did Cicero take to persuade old age to be patiently born? but if of itself it had been good, or as riches, friends, children, and learning had appearance of good: there should have been not cause for him to have taken such travail. A mockery it were to persuade that health or honour were patiently to be suffered: and we agreed that old age is sufferable, but not to be wished for. How many old men have been, for whom it had been better to have died in youth? Priamus for example, not for miracle in history is resited. Not long since Bacchus Valour being old and ready to take leave of life, before his eyes beheld his own son beheaded, a young man of singular hope. The next year before, two other old men I saw that beheld the like fortune in their own children. Wherefore I wonder much at the great wisdom of Theramenes, woe only escaping when his house fallen down, said before his friends that rejoiced for his life: O fortune to what end hast thou me preserved? neither did he ask in vain, for within few days after by the malice of tyrants, he was taken and put to death. Therefore such is the condition of men, as although being old thou might return to youth again & as the fable telleth of Aeson saying.  
And as twice twenty years bypassed, so now my force I find  
Mine aged years are worn away, I feel my youthful mind.  
Yet who art thou so mad or greedy of life, as would take upon thee such a condition? wherein there is nothing but sickness, cares, contempt, peril, loathsomeness and sorrow. So as I see not for what reason thou seekest to live. And if in lusty youth when strength, senses, beauty, wit, & authority, were all in thee, thou were notwithstanding oftentimes weary of life, what shalt thou do at this age when thou hearest thyself called old wretch, and dootinge old fool? death doth never come so much to sun to a young man, as to late to them that be old. But if fear of deadly pains do offend thee, sickness resembleth death, and in sickness by little and little the life is taken away. Or art thou loath to dye alone? Be of good cheer, thou shalt find more dead than are left alive: and those also shall or long follow. As the Poet saith.  
For either soon or late, in order as men say,  
The wretched flock of worldly folk, to death do take their way.  
Neither doth GOD suffer any to defer his destined tune. The destinies do drive all men, and remain as law for ever: they are the happier sort that are soonest dispatched of pains. And as among condemned folk the Law executeth those first that have lest offended, to th'end that the great offenders should behold the terror of death: Even so, God doth first take those away, whom he loveth, because they shall not be lokers on, but messengers sent before: (unless in consideration of profit either to their friends, or the world) he suffereth such men to tarry more long. To conclude then sing in things that be evil, there is nothing more grievous then daily and certain expectation, old age when it cometh, having in it both the one and the other, doth force a man to wish that in his youth he had dyed. I myself being a child, do remember mine own mother Clara Michera then a young woman was notwithstanding wont to wish that in her infancy she died: being grown to greater age (for ever more she continued the speech) I asked the cause why she so said? where unto this she answered: Lo, now I know I shall dye and that with greater peril, besides that in the mean time (who so doth mark it well) shall see there is nothing that doth not bring with it greater grief than pleasure: because pleasure being passed, do change to sorrow. And that deservingly. What is it in this life that can delight? daily trouble to apparel and unapparell thyself, hunger, thirst, sleep not so plentiful nor quiet as dead men have, heat in Summer, cold in Winter, disorder of time, terror of wars, controlment of parents, cares of wedlock, study for children, sloth of servants, contention of suits, and that (which is most of all) the condition of time, wherein honesty is disdained as folly, and craft is honoured as Wisdom. Artisans for their cunning not accounted of: but for apparence and opinion of people preferred. So as it is necessary either to displease God, or else to live among men in misery oppressed and disdained. I omit all evils, only that which is common to dead men is not evil, all other things which we do not account evil are worse than those which dead men suffer. It is now requisite that somewhat be said of the diversities of death, hitherto it hath been deferred because they are many, & of divers men, thought worthy consideration. For death doth seem grievous to young men, both for that it is painful for that mind to leave the body, dishonourable, and certain, all which in common judgement are joined to gethers. And some cowardlye young men have been compelled to dye a known death, but sith I see divers of the common people patiently enough do take their deaths. I know no cause why other should be greatly comforted, considering that not the manner of death, but the quality of the offence maketh death dishonourable. For if thou respect only the manner of death, thou shalt found that the greatest number of men put to vile death, were those that antiquity praiseth, and our age do honour, notwithstanding they fell into the hands of Tyrants in whose power it was to appoint the time and manner of death, though innocency be in them that suffer. Neither can a public death be dishonourable: if his life so dying be void of foul vice because public death without offence, is not only a sign but also a trial of virtue. We find in the new law how Christ did first gain the glory of innocent death, and after him followed innumerable martyrs and prophets, and the more good and holy they were, the more cruelly forced to dye. Esayas' cut with iron by commandment of king Manasses, Hieremias by the people stoned to death john Baptist beheaded, and finally many other cruelly murdered, neither was the fortune of other Good men much better at the hands of heathen Kings and in their Cities: for Zeno Eleates, when quietly he might have lived in his house, he conspired against the Tyrant Nearcluis, but his intent was discovered and he hanged, yet at his death he persuaded the people to stone the Tyrant to death. When Lysymachus, the king threatened Theodorus Cyreneus to hung him, he answered thus what matter is it, whether on the earth or hanging high, my carkcas do stink. When Socrates might with silence have escaped death, being condemned only in a pecuniall pain, did provoke them that did condemn him to procure his death. And when his wife Xanthippe complained that unjustly he suffered, he answered, An mallet just senciens non esse malum preter culpam. The dishonour therefore is not in dying, but in the cause of death: which proceedeth of thy own evil doing. But as for pains: youth and certain knowledge, of dying, they add none increase of grief, to death, nor make it more grievous, because the knowledge of that is not evil, cannot be evil after, and only death after torments is most pleasant. And torments either they can not be great, or not long. Christ for ensample to all men died, that for ensample it might remain Besides this seldom shalt thou find any innocent to dye of great torment, not, scantly once, unless it be at change of laws, when innocentes are forced to suffer the insolency of nocentes: as in histories it appeareth most rarely is also found example of violency in guiltless men, if wilfulness be not the cause for such as so murder good men, do seem to do it of very will. But how easy a thing death is either public, or by sword, examples do bear witness. When julius Caesar was in the murdering and felt the daggers of divers men stubbed into his body, he sought neither to save himself nor cried for help, but falling kept hidden his secret parts. Such memory he had of comeliness notwithstanding his wounds, and readiness to yield up his ghost. And as Lucanus says his son in law in such sort died. He describeth Pompeius' death in this wise.  
In haste he stayed his woeful voice, and would no word complain,  
Lest weeping tears might so unwares, his heavenly fame disdain.  
And wh●●●is noble side was pierced, with fierce Achilles' blade  
No sig●, no sob, no careful cheer, no sorrowing sound he made but in disdain of cruelty.  
Cato Vticensis determined to dye, ordered his goods wisely: forseinge the good of others, though he neglected his own, which done reading Plato of the immortality of souls, laid himself down & slept so sound, as he snored after being awaked sticked himself. And when through weakness of his hand the wound was not mortal, such as were by saved him, till at length violently he broke loose & dyed. Such was his greedy desire of death. Otho themperor a young man of thirty seven years, of all men accounted soft and effeminate, after he had wone three battles of the Vitelli for the sorrow of one lost, gave his money and substance to his friends and willed his familiar companion to show himself to the soldiers, jest that after he should be suspected, and in the night with two daggers murdered himself. And yet neither despaired he of the holding of the Empire, nor wanted the love of the Senate or his soldiers, but only for that neither in victory or victored he would hinder the common wealth, Caius julius by Caius themperor condemned to dye▪ obtained ten days pardon: all which time careless he consumed in sleep, and table play, and when the hangman came in to warn him that his time was even at hand, he told what advantage he had in the game, and willed his play fellow that after his death he should not boast of winning, and called the hangman to record: who led him towards death accompanied with a philosopher Upon the way, being asked wha● he mused of? He answered I determined to observe what at the last instant my soul shall feel, when it parteth away to the end that after I may advertise my friends. Aratus knowing he had taken a linger poison at the hands of Philippus the Macedonian king, speaking one secret word to his familiar friend, passed the rest of his life so pleasantly as seemed not to have any such grief or assurance to dye. The seven brothers called Machabei, all young men and sons of one mother by the commandment of king Antigouns one after an other, and in sundry sort together, with their Mother killed themselves. Tectamenes condemned to dye, went his way laughing, and being asked whether he disdained the laws, answered no: but by dying I must pay that I neither asked nor borrowed of any. Which example although under the person of one unknown, was much praised of Cicero, yet in wise judgements, such behaviour argueth: In Tectamenes, rather vanity, than fortitude, for a man condemned specially for wicked doing, naturally can not love death, neither was it our intent to prove that death should be desired or sought for.  
But as it is the condition of a faithless man, not to restore that he borroweth: so is it also an vnfrendly and unthankful part, not to keep that he borroweth. As therefore death is not to be fled or lamented ●o aught it not to be sought for. But as the Poet saith.  
Do neither seek nor shun: the end of thy own life.  
Yet happily Craton may hold such opinion, and though it be not maintained by reason, yet for the marvel gaineth reputation among the common sort, The example therefore of Theramon is more honest and more courageous. For he being unjustly by thirty Tyrants condemned took the poison saying according to the ancient manner of Athens, Critus I drink to thee, for so was the greatest Tyrant and worse then: Theramines called, that done whatsoever remained in the cup, he threw upon the ground. The death of Photion was more noble he sing his friend desirous to drink poison did stay him, after finding that which was not left to suffice did buy more, saying that in Athens a man was forced to buy his own death. But why do I labour to induce more ensamples of men, when whoole Nations may be called to record? As the Galathians, did so little regard Death, as they feared not to fight Naked. So did also many noble Romans and Germans that needless it were to resyte their names. I do therefore think best in few words to declare that men were made mortal for three causes. First because there should be some end of their offences.  
This life is displeasant and the nearer age the moor troublesome, and therefore the Gimniophista, (as men say) answered Alexander well, asking whether death or life were stronger? (Li●e quoth he) because it beareth so many calamities. The second cause is, that goodmen without envy might be honoured, and evil Men without fear condemned, and that riches and authority (for which men commit great wickedness) might not be regarded. If those things which mortal men have were justly weighed, they should as Cares and Evils be reputed. Yet if death were not, men would muse only upon Theft, and Violence, while in this short space that now they live, they think so much thereof. The third reason is for that men might receive reward of good and evil, according to the quality of their deserts. For after death, such as have passed a godly life, shall live not only with their brethren & kinsfolk, but also accompanied withal honest and learned men, and above the stars receive joy and everlasting felicity. So contrary wise the wicked in darkness and solitary places shallbe tormented. Therefore for wicked folk only death can be thought evil, and yet is not, but Good men not unlike the Swan who only at his death do sing may boldly rejoice and be glad. Some there are so ambitious that the care of their funerals doth trouble them much, who are not to be comforted, but for their folly to be reprehended, what is the body of man, when the Spirit is passed away? It is no more accounted as part or member of him, but rather a Carckcasse unprofitable, stinckinge and horrible. Seneca therefore did well devise that the same should be buried, not in respect of the Dead, but the living, lest they by savour and sight thereof, might be offended. Where upon in sundry nations hath grown sundry customs of burying the Dead. The Grecians were wont to wry them in the earth. The Romans did burn them in fire. The Nathabeians did bury them in their dungehilles. Yea their Kings had none other Sepulchre. The Ethiopians do cast them into the rivers to be devoured of Fish.  
The Magi did give them to wild Beasts Hercani to Dogs. But the Massageti most marvelously do eat them. The Egyptians with their own Nails do bury them.  
The Persians' do wrap them in Wax. So incertayne is the reason, where is no reason at all. Alas good Fool dost thou not hear the Poet saying.  To want a tomb, the lack is never great. 
What doth it prevail the to lie in marble, above the ground, or in the bowels of the earth? dost thou take care for want of a workman. There is no cause of fear at all. The Heaven doth hide his bones, that can no coffin find, as saith the Poet. Who so were wise would not with one hafepeny expense, buy this felicity. The first inventor of names for these stately building, for burial of stinking bodies: what did he other then make trial of an insolent, and vain ambitious mind, that even in death would declare the same?  
But this care caught beginning at Silla, that Dead men should be buried.  
He was the first that at the Death of Cornelia caused burning and not burying to be used, because he feared to be digged up and suffer shame which he had care of in the burying of Marius. But how much better did Diogenes Cenicus, lying under a tree sick and ready to dye, answered them that asked where he would be buried? saying, I pray you let me alone: whereto they replied that then the beasts would tear him in pieces (why then quoth he) give me a staff, nay (said his friends) that were to none use when the life is go. Then Diogenes not unwisely reproved them saying: what harm can I have when I shallbe senseless and feel nothing? it maketh also to purpose to know that it is incertain what doth become of man's carcases cast away: sometimes it was thought they gained an opinion of devinitye as it came to pass of Cleo the Lacedaemonian king, whose body hanging whole upon the gallows, there appeared in it a Serpent that brought forth devouringe birds. Whereof grew a religion, as though the Gods were keepers of innocent man's bodies, which foolishly the people honoured, It is said that Ctesias found the carcase of Clearchus not unlike to the other, out of which grew a wood, and become to be honoured for a God. Yea at this day this superstitious opinion remaineth of them that lie unburied, that their spirits should walk: So great force hath the memory of ancient error, and the fear which men have in walking alone. But now let us leave these unprofitable matters, and (as at the beginning was determined) turn out talk to sorrow. And first let us speak of Parents because not only Love, but also Pity was wont for them to move tears. Neither can we with moor honesty lament any then them of whom we came into the World. This is the duty of Love, Charity, and Pity: and if any whit the tears of Children can prevail to their good, sure lie than aught we weep: But sing no weeping, or Sorrow doth help, let us consider, whether honestly or reasonably we aught to do it.  
Wherein first cometh to memory the universal reason of all them, that by Death have been called away. For either we must lament in favour of them that be deadde, or else in respect of ourselves. But if in consideration of them we Lament, either we believe that their Souls do live, or else together with their Bodies they are perrished. And if thou think that booth the Soul and Body be perrished, then so thinking and lamenting the Death of an other, thus thou Complainest.  
Alas alas hencefoorthe thou shalt not be Thirssty, hungry, Cold, Not, Painful, Sick, subject to injuries, and Calamity, yea (that is most of all) henceforth thou shalt not dye, as I shall, but I know thou will't say, I were to be laughed at, i● so I should lament, nevertheless all this thou dost, and though thou confess it not, yet wilt thou know that so it is. Surely there is no doubt that die we must (Death) as thou thinckeste, is Evil: Why art thou then sorry for him that is passed it, and not for thyself that by no means can avoid it? But if it be superfluous to lamut thine own Condition (because in cases necessary, weeping helpeth not) To what purpose dost thou be wail his Death which is the more necessary: that he is already deadde?  
But if thou believe his Spirit doth live, then of necessity thus must thou lament. Alas alas from a mortal man thou art become immortal from Painful Quiet, from Miserable Happy, from Sad pleasant, and from obscure noble.  
Who is he that heareth the in this sort complain (though he were of the dead man's blood) but should fall unto laughing? Neither do then think I tell the an untrothe (and therefore which I had almost forgotten) though thou allege that for his cause thou mournest. seeing then there is almost no man so unwise as dare say he complaineth in respect of him that is deadde whether his Soul doth remain or not, so every man saith he doth lament the want of his fryend, which if thou acknowledge the eternity of his soul, cannot so be, because (for so much as is 〈◊〉) he is not with thee, and thou shalt shortly 〈◊〉 to him. But take thou heed to 〈◊〉 that thou bewailest thy own calamity, though he 〈◊〉 not with thee.  
To vain and Envious thou 〈…〉 thyself, if for thy profit thou can not 〈…〉 this benefit, for as with 〈…〉 to prefer their Children to Service of Kings, in hope of Favour and Reward, that will come thereof notwithstanding the minds of Princes, 〈◊〉 times inconstant, the 〈…〉 faithful, and generally, 〈◊〉 Good 〈…〉 as serve little 〈…〉 will aught we 〈…〉 we 〈…〉 use Hate, Ambition not Disdain.  
The mind of that Prince is neither 〈…〉 nor ignorant of any thing. There is place with out perryll. Fellowship without 〈…〉 without doubt, and 〈…〉 And would thou for thy own commodi●te deny him of these joys? God forbid. But besides this thou may perhaps seem justly to complain 〈◊〉 thy Commodities by 〈◊〉 of 〈…〉 which 〈…〉 reason, yet of thou consider at 〈…〉 to 〈…〉 induce reason worthy thy consideration. And first seeing in respect of thyself 〈…〉 think that one other may be found ever 〈◊〉 to him for Friendship, conversation; or necessity. But admit that could not be, or that such a man were not readily found: yet with all remember what pains thou hadst taken for thy deadde friend, how often for him thou were called in question, how often than 〈◊〉 less, how burdenous he was to thee, and finally, how he had been towards thee thou cannot certainly know, and what hereafter he would have beve, 〈…〉. Alas how often have some men bene 〈◊〉 by their own Kinsfolk, 〈◊〉 Children and Friends, of whom in times paste they were helped.  
Cassius and Brutus did aid julius Caesar in fight against his country, but being made Emperor they slew him. Full foolishly did Antoni●s commit his counsel to Octavius, where in he discovered his friends, trusting to him whom oftentimes in doubtful Fortune he had received help, yet then through his fear he was enforced to voluntary Death. Alexander while he lived was faithful served of his Soldiers, but being dead, his Children, Kinsfolks, and Friends, were all by them destroyed, and yet at the death of one of them, he felt so great Sorrow, as searce, lie he could ever after leave to lament.  
The pity of Parents, Brethrens and Children, both begin and is as it were born with them▪ Yet how many have been thereby hindered, hereafter shallbe declared, But now to the matter: what I pray you can be more unprofitable among mortal Men or less certain of end, than Sorrow: which proffiteth not others, and hurteth him that doth lament. I marvel not therefore at the Thracians, and Casions, though at the death of their Neighbour, they rejoice and make good Cheer, because they know them delivered of all worldly woe, and hope they are groan to Felicity. So contrary wise they wail and weep when any child is born, for that from most pleasant Quiet, it is come into this troublesome Life: which Custom a Citizen of ours (as I have hard) did follow, who dying desired that with music & 〈◊〉 he might be 〈…〉 burial. Yet know I not whether his desire was performed. But as touching sorrow, it can not be reproved sith men do lament that, that can not be eschewed, and that which doth save them from all other inconvenients, yea while they bewail the good of others, they forget their own miseries.  
What is so vain, as either to lament nothing, if after Death be no Sense, or if any be to make them sorry that love them, or be laughed to scorn if they contemn them. truly if we find fault with them that do weep befoore their Lovers, not being beloved again, whereby growethe no good but the declaration of their Folly, how much more art thou to be blamed, if thou think no Sense remaineth, or dost thou according to the fashion of Fablers, (and yet they believed there were Spirits) by weeping hope to call back any to Life as Orpheus did Eurydice.  
Alas dost thou think that if sorrow had been either of necessity or profit, that Nature which hath geeven to living creatures Knowledge of so many arts, so manifold circumspection, (and so sundry customs, as to fight for their young, to cherish the old in venery, to observe affinity, wedlock, and revenge, that among the rest she would have forgotten Sorrow. Besides man, there is no Creature after it be brought forth, that doth lament the Death of an other, though we see one Pysmyre doth bury another, yet Nature left nothing undone that for the necessity of any Creature was to be required, but in education Sorrow was necessary, least the youge should forget their Parents, and destroy their kind, The wise and discrete makers of Laws, have likewise with a certain Godly mean respecting popular Folly, and profit, appointed short terms for men to mourn in.  
Lycurgus' commanded that above eleven days, no man should lament or seem to mourn.  
Solon did clearly take away all Solempnities of Sorrow, as weeping, crying, and Tearinge. Who doubteth but if Laws had been made only for common people, and not wisemen: But that mourning should have been clearly taken away yea rather thereof no mention made at all, because they would have imagined wise men to have needed none admonition, as divers of themselves we have seen to do.  
But now perticularlye let us proceed whensoever one Kinsman, bewaylethe the Death of an other, let him tell me truly, whether he had rather have dyed himself, or not?  
For thus it must needs come to pass, that the Children do dye before the Parents, or the Parents before the Children, or else altogethers: as though they were all destroyed by subversyon of one House. But to perrishe all together is held for most calamity and greatest misfortune. If thou desire to have dyed first, thereby thou dost not only pervert the course of Nature, but also incur one of these two that either Death is evil, and therefore offendeth less in thy Parents then thyself, or else good: And therefore for Pittyes' sake to be wished first, to fall upon them. For every man studieth to eschew Evil chief to himself. And Good is most commonly wished to those we account dearest, or to those that for Pities sake we honour and reverence. What is that thou mournest for in them? because they are delivered of Old age? Or dost thou lament that in others, which in thyself thou thinkest aught patiently to be suffered?  
Or will't thou weep not unlike the Old woman that complayved her barren Life. Upon a time there happened a certain Old Woman to come beggine to the Gate asking almose and therewithal alleged she was without Father, or mother, with which tale at the first somewhat amazed one good fellow standing by, asked what age she was of. Whereunto she answered an old woman of moor than seventy years, forthwith we changed our cheer to laughter, although we took great pity of the old woman being of so great age, yet no marvel was her loss of parents. Therefore have good regard jest while thou weep thou move not others to laugh, what wouldst thou do if according to an old custom used by the citizens of India in the ysland of Coius, that old men being past Threescoore years of age should of the City be carried in Triumph, and so in sight be slain? Because after that age they being unprofitable their Deaths in respect of the want of Corn, may greatly proffyte the common wealth.  
This Law all be it, it be in deed cruel, yet every Law doth promise some commodity to the common weal. Which I see the Claspians have done: For that Region being plentiful of men, and of Corn scarce. Their custom is, after their Parents be passed Threescore and ten years, to shut them up and so with Hunger to kill them, which use as it is to cruel, barbarous, and of no brutish Beast used: So Death natural being come to our Parents ought patiently to be born, and think them to have passed the whoole course of Misery, and us to remain and abide the Troublesome assault of earthly cares: Yea and the rather, for that they died when Old age made them cumbersome to the Common weal, and to theymselues by Life displeasaunte.  
Dost thou think the old men of Babylon were wont willingly to yield theymselues to Death, but because they acknowledged, that Death of old folks, was more profitable to the Common weal than Life. And admit thine Auncestoure be not old (because to lament Death in Old age were worse than the Folly of Melitides) but Young, Strong, Profitable for his Family, necessary for counsel, and so in his best lust taken away? Thou will't not lewdly say within thyself, Why tarried he so long? as one did who boasted himself to be of our house of Cardani. This young Man his Father then dying, in the presence of all Men Danced, and being told by his familiar Friends that he was dead, said, all to late: but the wicked wretch or one year passed, was justly plagued, for after a long consumption he died, and fulfilled that saying of Moses: Honour, thy father and thy mother that thou mayest live long upon the earth: which I see the Gentiles also do. For Homer in his Eliades doth affirm those to live short lives that do not tender their parent's that due reward of education. Such is the counsel of true dealing: and surely these unnatural minds, proceeds from some devil, otherwise they could not be guilty of so great a mischief. The nature of man is devilish: and so wicked, as it would destroy all parents, neither can it govern itself, neither doth it contain in itself any courtesy, by mean whereof necessarily in short space it must be consumed. But as it is the part of an ungracious son to hate the life of his parents, so it is the part of a wise son patiently to take their deaths, and to turn the same to his commodity, according to then sample of the good Physicians, who having medecins will not use poison: yet having venom at hand after long trial of other things, will rather than fail by venom cure diseases: So the wise man by well and discrete using of evil, doth make the same good. As first cometh to memory the government of household, the ensample of wisdom, and the desire of glory: in all which the reverence and respect towards the father doth chiefly hinder thee, or altogether let thee. The authority of fathers containeth in it somewhat more than service, and hindereth the execution of great things, be it in wars, learning or administration of the common wealth: for all things having evil success, are imputed to the son, and all good to the father, whom if he loveth he cannot dissemble it, though he deserved it not, or if he love him not, it shallbe called his default or want of duty. And the examples of them that willingly have given place to their sons, in glory are so few, as the honour that Antiocus did to his son Demetrius may be taken as a miracle. The evente of worldly procedings have also made proof of this opinion: because all such as have become excellent, either in arms, learning, or civil government, were of those whose fathers in youth were taken away, as julius Caesar, Octavius, Augustus, Alcibiades, Cicero, Galenus, Aristoteles, yea what had Alexander been if Phillippus had lived but one four years longer? for had Phillippus ended the wars with Darius: being victorious he had gained the whole glory, or if he had been victoryed, he could not have left to Alexander mean and power of happy proceeding. As therefore to cowards and men of no virtue, the timely death of the father hath ever brought hindrance. So to noble minds: it is occasion whereby to show themselves as they be. This must also be set before our eyes, that both life and death be the gifts of God, and do evermore depend upon his providence. Therefore whosoever reproveth life or death, doth in silence disallow & complain of the divine judgement, because both the one and the other is meet and profitable. And chiefly if thou offend or did not love them, thou aught not to lament for having lost them thou hated: Or if thou lament, otherwise it must be because towards them thou were unnatural. But now thou art safe so as thou can neither be appeached of impiety (if thou hast not before procured their harms) nor after be thought unfriendly, sith against thy will or by mishap thou cannot offend. How much better had it been for Priamus that Hector and Politus had dyed before him? who found himself so grievously perplexed with their miserable chances as he disdained his own life. Was not Hector more happy in death for Astyanax than Priamus? because to avoid the sight of Priamus misery, he sought his own death, and so by dying left him miserable. All these were the acts of good parents: but of tother, how many have been? whom though to hate were ungodly, yet to love them is not necessary. Some have taken away the common parent, as did Clytaemnestra, who having killed Agamemnon was herself betrayed by Orestes her common son. So Almenon murdered his mother Eryphiles for having consented to the death of his father Amphiarus. These examples are common, neither is it necessary to love such parents: for notwithstanding by them we have our being, yet against their wills (as it seemeth) we keep it: because they sought the destruction of them of whom we came. Therefore Licophron killed Periandrus his father, for being chief auctor of his mother's death, & would neither take regard of his fame, neither speak unto him nor suffer himself to be spoken unto. But how much more wicked be they the seek the death of their own sons? of whom the ensamples are not so few as happily thou thinkest. Mithridates' murdered some of his own sons, and had he not wanted power, he would not have left one of his children on live. Theseus was also causeless the cause of Hippolytus death, and as they say Medea cut her own children in pieces. Of more certentye the same is told of Catelina, who to th'end he might be married a new, with poison killed his own son, almost a man. Matheus Duke of that Carthaginenses hanged his own son Carthalus returning from victory, only because meeting his father then in exile, he was apparelled in purple with the badge of victory. Should any other son of his surviving him, weep or lament the death of so cruel a father? nay rather a malicious beast. Yet how much more vile was the act of Laodices' wife of Axioratus king of Capodacia? who having by that husband six sons with poison murdered five, intending also to kill the sixt youngest of all, had it not by the policy of kinsfolk been prevented. What beast doth live so hard hearted, as can bear the cruelty of such a mother? Cats and Connyes by reason of their exceeding great lust, do devour their young newly brought forth, but other mothers among all the brutish kind to destroy their own young, I never red, nor though written it were, hardly I dared believe. With like bestiality of mind did Euergetes Ptolomeus murder the two children he got upon his sister Cleopatra the one of good years, tother very young. Of these and such like parents to bewail the death, how great a folly were it? I myself have seen, and so have many others, a gentlewomen, that to enjoy unlawful love within xv. days with a sword slew her own husband, poisoned her own son, and before their burial was married to her new love. But now I see what thou wouldst say. I mourn not for the death of suchan auncetor, but for one that was just, good, godly, and that dearly did love me: but how dost thou know whether hereafter he willbe such a one still? for all such as killed their wives or children, were at the first also good: yet grew to this madness after many years, which showeth that their wickedness either came with time, or else thoccasion grew by time. Therefore there is nothing so universally incertain, as the love towards children, brethren, wives, kinsfolk, friends & masters. Craft covereth many things, so doth base fortune, occasion and wisdom: all which when age groweth on like unto stars in the tree, are increased and detected. So old age being come, sometimes in respect of power, but more often in regard of folly and utilitye, old men do for necessity use the help & counsel of them they love not, and only because of their own debility, which saveth the guiltless children from many misadventures at their hands, for whom they live continually a most miserable life: Others do disherit their children, others consume their patrimony, and some seek new wives, breeding the sorrow that stepmothers most commonly make. The injury of every of which joined with the combersomnes and severity of age, is increased. And to conclude with one example of a wise man among all those fools: let that of Cato C●nsorinus a man of excellent witre, suffice thee, he having a son of good years, fallen first to adultery, and after marrying a most defamed woman, thereby clearlye discredited the reputation of wisdom, and former life, yea besides all this, ordained the Nephew of Clieus to be Coheyre with his son, at that time Preator in Rome.  
Why should I then need to resyte Lysander, Tiberius, and the rest of those old Monsters, that in age were not only wicked but also without Mercy, when the integrity and Roman wisdom, through default of age was worn away  
Therefore seeing the number of many brethren breeds poverty, where great abundance woteth, impossible it is that any of them can do great things. It must then be confesses, that y●●●athe of the father aught much to be lament 〈…〉 sorrowed not at all. Much less aught the death of Brothers to make a man sorrowful, it men would rightly way things as they are. And first it must be considered (which is also to be thought of in the loss of children) when alone, & without brethren thou be born, whether thou will't lament because they were not born? Truly sith I see no man so to do, I hardly think that any will say it is worthy weeping, to be born with brethren▪ or if being a child 〈…〉 divers brethren, will't thou now renew the sorrow of their death? which I know also thou wi●t not because we love not that we know not, but we lament for them we love. If then thou think neither those that are not born, nor those that are worthy to be mourned for, how much less the other that were born and lived a good tyme. For if to have brethren it be evil, then to lose them is a pleasure: But if it be good (seeing in all good things it is better to have had some thing than nothing who doubteth. But these that lived some reasonable years, if they die, are less to be sorrowed for, than those that never were born nor known. Such is the condition of evils, that what soever is everlasting, is most displeasant, and in all such some rest is thought pleasant. In a time of famine, is it not better to have two Loaves than no bread at all? After long labour is not rest (he it never so little) better then none? Doth not one days liberty refresh a man well that lieth continually in prison? Are not such as live in misery somewhat comforted, when they remember that some part of their life was pleasantly passed? seeing then it is better to have had brethren, to have lived in their company, to have sorrowed & rejoiced with them, and therefore art more happy than they that uttterlye have had none at all, who for all that do neither weep nor lament.  
But false imagination and opinion, is the fault hereof whereby thou thinkest that not only he, but also thyself should for ever live togethers: of which hope worthylye deceived, unworthilye thou mournest for thy brother what if in thy choice, if were to live brotherless, or without one only brother who after forty years should survive thee? Whether would thou have a brother with such condition or live without? Surely thou would have him unless to have brethren thou think it evil. But if to choose the brotherless life: then wouldst thou not complain. Yet having the better choice thou dost. What is the cause? other then that now thou art unprepared to digest thy brother's death, but when the choice was made thou were prepared. Thus death therefore is not to be blamed but in opinion only it seemeth intolerable, and therein thou lamentest the commodities received, (as there is no necessety) thou never thinkest. But (be it for the purpose) that this thy Brother was good and loved the much which (as men say) is not common.  In Brethrens hard it is: to find unfeigned love. 
Truly if thou have regard to daily experience the most brothers be cumbersome quarrelous, ●●●●ous, discencious, captious, and disdainful. The Poet was wont therefore very well to resemble brethren to the winds, because they ever disagreed among themselves, and lived not like friends or fellows, but as those whom discord did best become. Chain did first show to Abel what brotherly love would after be. Then jacob deceived Esau: committing his eleven children into the servitude of joseph his brother: yea some of them they meant to have slain, forgetting not only pity, but also their common parents, and the innocency of their age. After their days Absalon killed Amnon, his brother. Abimelech the son of Gedeon murdered his threescore and ten brethren, one only except.  
Not godly law, no holy Religion, no fear of GOD, from so wicked a deed could withhold him. Neither are the examples of the Gentiles more merciful, Atreus having murdered the three sons of Thyestes' his brother, gave him their flesh to eat, spoiled him of his Kingdom, and ravished his wife. Etheocles and Polynues, Oedipi. Simulus and Rhesus did likewise one murder the other, so did also Romulus and Remus, jugurtha was not contented only to kill his brethren Adherbales and Hiempsales: but also before they died, cut all their flesh from their bones. Cambyses having one only brother called Smerdis a simple man and living in private life, by reason of a dream was by him slain. So light a cause, can 'cause a brother to seek the life of a brother. What did Antonius to G●ta? or Antipater the Macedonian King? Phrahates who without cause slew his thirty brethren, and with them Herodes his father by whom in the place of Pacorus lately dead, he was Crowned king. The Queen of Tilaea took for husband her brother Hiperio by whom she conceived two children, the one called Sol, the other Luna, through envy killed Hiperio, then cast Sol into the river Eridanus, and with sorrow thereof died Luna. Cleopatra also (for women are not free from such wickedness) to th'end she might more safely aspire to the kingdom of Egipte, flew he sister Arsino's and her young brother of the age of fifteen years. If I resighted every mischief that brothers have committed to brothers, this book could not contain them. Myself have known one man twice guilty of his brethren's death: another the year before, was beheaded for having murdered three of his brethren, but the death of two was apparauntlye known. There is no thrust for Falernus more great, than the desire of wicked folk to commit cruelty in their own kinsfolk. Yea sometimes this wicked violence is put in proof among kinsfolk of one name. But among this sinful sort, thy brother is none. Admit he be good, of honest conditions, modest, and virtuous: yet what canst thou look for more at him, than others? for if thou seek good will? a friend can do it: if necessity? thy son must be preferred: if pity? thy parents are better: if duty? thy fellows are morefitte: if flattery? thy servants do it best. Of all which number seeing thou patiently sufferest death, the loss of thy brethren ought not more impatiently to be born. And hereof a most evident token may be the great constancy of the parents, at the death of their children: the like love of whom is never seen, neither among brethren, nor among children towards their parents. But thus thou dost say, I loved my brother dearly, & honoured him truly: but did he likewise love thee? Alexius was brother to Isaac king of Germanye, and by him received as a companion in government: taken of the Turks: he redeemed him with great sums of money, notwithstanding all which at his return he deposed Isaac from his kingdom, put out his eyes, and kept him in continual prison. Thou mayst boldly swear by GOD that thou loved, and not be deceived, but how thou art beloved is hard to know. Titus' honoured Domitianus, yet how many injuries did Domitianus do, unto Titus? and (as it is thought) in the end, with poison he killed him. What can be more perilous (chiefly where is great inheritance) thenne to commit the children to thy brother's tuition: a thing almost impossible, it is to love truly both the brother and his children, or would thou have thy brothers should love so, as they should forget their children? Who knoweth whether evil fortune shall rather take thy children, or thy good brother from thee? For he living, either without peril thy children might not be left void of angoverour, or not without injury committed to others.  
Call to memory the example of Childebertus the French king, who by practice got from their mother Clothilda, the two sons of his brother and slew them, because (the lawful heirs of his brother living) he thought that quietly he could not possess the whole kingdom.  
Many there have been seen, to commit more cruelty upon their nephews then this: and common it is to take their patrimonies from them, but the occasions both of peril and injury are all at once removed. lastly this is to be noted, that nature as it divideth inheritance, so doth it depart conditions, among brethren, If one be honest, an other dishonest, If one be noble of mind an other of base courage, if one be industrious, another is slothful. If thou hate thy brother, why lookest thou to be loved? if thou love him, love bindeth thy judgement. And very like it is, that as in thee there is singular honesty, so in thy brother is no less dishonestye, but thou seest it not, occasion wanteth. Thy brother's inheritance was well got, how well got? nay rather won by deceit: But admit it be (as be it cannot) that thou know thy brother doth truly love thee, thou art childless, he hath children left behind him, account of them, and let them be in place of a brother, in education of them shallbe greater charity, and in keeping greater reverence. But if neither thou nor he have children, and he that died is thy only brother, if thou adopt children, they shall better serve then thy brothers. Silver is lost and gold is found. But if this thou cannot do sooner than thou would, yea against thy will thou thyself shall or long follow him: and had he survived would percase skantlye have wept one tear for thee: and if so he had done, was he not by so much wiser than thyself? If before him thou would not have dyed, why dost thou lament that he is first dead? Other friends do live, other kinsfolk, and other companions. How many brothers and kinsfolk in Christ do live, as mortal men and do daily pray for thee. And thine own brother is already go to GOD, art thou sorry that he hath gained liberty and everlasting life? Tho●cation of every sorrow is patiently to be born notwithstanding, the necessity of na-nature, the custom of others, and the variable condition of worldly things do work the contrary Neither can there come any greater grief to men by death, then to be bereft of children, yet although the same doth happen to the whole number of any man's offspring and therewith all hope of other be removed, yet is his condition not such as deserveth either weeping, sadness, or sorrow. And now let us more deplye consider whether the life of him that is barren, or of him that hath children is more happy? The childless man hath only to lament that he hath no child to leave behind him, which if in respect of perpetuity thou foolishly hopest: among so many thousands of men, dost thou think thy posterity should remain, though the world were never to end? But that the world doth end, besides that the laws have so determined, also all famous Philosophers, (Aristotle except) have so agreed. And if thy life be not continued for ever, what is that to thee? or if thy posterity do always remain art thou for that respect the happier? when the Paripatetians conclude that the seed of the father is no portion of the children, but that they are wholly engendered of the mother's blood. Galenus thinketh that the veins, the sinews, and arteries, are only made of the father's seed, all the rest of the mother's blood: howsoever it be, no grand child is portion of his grandfather. So subtle is this pleasure of posterity, as in deed it may be called nothing after a few years all memory of great grandfathers is worn out: who is he almost that ever knew his great grandfather? But on the contrary part, to so small a pleasure how great a care is joined, hereof cometh peril of life, charge in education, fear of hunger, care in learning, wantonness in childhood, rashness in youth, contumacy, disobedience & disdain. All which in rich men and happy times, are so common, as are accounted for necessary evils.  
Now what hope can be in posterity, when only charge and fear cometh thereby? People are oppressed, kings make wars, the Prince of Turks with fire and sword wastes all, vile servitude of all evil the worst draweth on, some yield, some are hidden in hooks, on every side disorder, evil men are not allowed, good subjects persecuted. Dost thou then think that in times of such calamity, it is not care enough for thee to provide for thyself? but will also be charged with an increased burden of necessary cares? what can be more wicked than this our age? When Cicero lost his daughter Tulliola, being to him most dear, did repose the chiefest part of his consolation in the affairs of Caesar, yet he lived under a mild prince in a City plentiful, Cicero himself of Caesar beloved, friended of the greatest, & wanted neither wealth, honour nor reputation. Then compare time with time, that security with this private peril, the goodness & authority of Cicero with thy, the lenity of Caesar with the severity of other Princes? and than consider whether thou aught to wish for children, when Cicero did not much sorrow the loss of his? The life of men without children is full of pleasure, full of liberty, & full of security, they have no cause to fear either injuries, servitude, disdain or danger of others, in peace they are free, in wars not careful. And believe me, that in common calamities there is no greater care, then to think upon thy kinsfolk. In time of plague, no place thou hast to flee to, in time of war thou mayest not remove: in time of famine thou art unprovided, whither to go. Consider well these discommodities, & see whether they are comparable to the want of children. But now let us return to our principal proposition: Why complainest thou thy want of children? when for thy child thou aught neither to lament, who either feeleth nothing, or is in joy: neither for thyself whose condition is best, in respect thou art childless, sith thereby thou hast changed peril for security, toil for quiet, bondage for liberty, and yet complainest? This other day I hard certain poor old women complaining, & wyshing the death of their children, and had it not been better for them to have been childless then to become in such misery as to wish the death of their own children? Mark well the prayers of poor people, consider how careless they are of their children, and so shalt thou find, I tell none untrothe. But thou art rich? no sure, they are only rich that do dwell in common weals. And though thou livest now under a king, his successor may be a tyrant, one only night may make this change. And in a common weal while thou fearest not one, thou must lie in weight and take heed of many. If thou want riches, there can be no comfort in children. Every man most assuredly is poor, and no man rich: where is no security, how canst thou be happy? yet this is one most certain condition of mortal men. That as some are subject to the wars of divers: under one all is whole at his devotion. Remember Heliogabalus themperor, that sought togethers the children of all Italy: what did Astyages commit upon Harpagus? or what did Cambyses to the Persians' and chiefly to Prexaspes: Such is the condition of men, as better it were to live in fear of war by sundry Princes, then of one that may at his will command all. One Octavius Augustus was a good Prince, because in civil wars mercifully enough he shed the Roman blood, but what beasts did continually succeed him? As Tiberius, Caligula, Nero, Claudius? What mischief could be more hardly suffered then these monsters? But admit thou live in happy times, yet of them do I receive no proof, considering I written this book, to serve myself in hard chances, not only in respect of the vain opinion of some mortal men, touching private adventures: but also that unloked for events might more patiently be born: which though they be not worse than other that are private, yet by reason of their sodennes do commonly trouble men most. Yet sith without mine assent this Book may come to hands of posterity, I may happily be reproved for having attributed to much blame to some one time, and despaired of better, wherefore let the blame of times be left to their place, and (as meet it is) our talk be turned to comfort. Thy son is dead: what can more easily be recovered? none age but the last, no sickness except the consumption that hindereth child getting: which being so we aught not to be so careful of children as of ourselves. Aristotle concludeth that at threescore years of age or threescore & ten a man liveth to get children, yet is it manifest, that some have got children after fourscore years, and though favour and force were decayed. And among diseases both the gout and consumption do suffer generation. These only are thought insufficient to get children, the wants their stones, or are deprived of their virtue? Or else those whose veins behind their ears be cut. For such men as says Hipocrates be all barren.  
How well therefore doth Nature provide that what a man most dispaireth of, the same by quick occasion is supplied. There is nothing that can more easlye or sooner come or happen to man then the riches got of thy father: because thy winning of Glory and Friends asketh long time: but a child is got in a moment. What loss can then the death of thy Son be? and though it were the greatest, yet because so easlie and of every man may be supplied, it aught not to be accounted of. But being poor to get riches is very hard, For as the saying is.  Now riches are not geeven, but where, as riches do habound. 
But thou shalt see a man now childless and old, yet or thou see him next he is become rich: If any member be cut of, it groweth not again, if the father die, or brother, their lives are never called back, if thy fame be perished, hard is thy reputation recovered: but the loss of children is so easlye, shortly, and fully supplied: as in this respect only is not worthy any comfort, not though thou were assured he were thy son in deed. And how incertain that is (O Lord) who knoweth not, thy belief must do it, belief is therein needful.  
Only the fidelity of thy wife, doth make him thy, other assurance hast thou none. But if a man do happen to mourn for the death of an other man's child, for by conjecture, Bastards die soonest, by reason they were got with fear, and most unquietness of mind, then look what Laughter it provoketh? But now thy own Child (a thing unknown but only to his mother) is taken away what part of him was thy? his soul? I never found any so wicked as would be of that mind, his body? how can that be when he is made of his father's seed? which is the superfluous noryture of the third concocktion: as the dung first, the urine second, if whatsoever cometh of superfluity be ours, than so shall worms and Lice be ours and worthy our love Remember how much seed in times past thou hast consumed in waste, either upon harlots or upon thy wife being with child: all that is lost and thou complainest not, what is more in thy son then the effusion of thy seed? will't thou then so much lament a vile and disdained thing, whereof is no reason. If thou respect the beginning thou shalt find that thou lamentest none other then a little unhappy excrement, which being lost in dreams (as often it happeneth) thou carest not at all, but what matter is it how it be lost? I marvel the less of Aristippus, that disdained his son so much as he cast him away. Other likewise I hear destroyed them, as Lavis did Oedipus: Priamus, Paris, Neither do thou think this custom only of kings observed, but also of private men: which law by Romulus of infamous memory and happy success in Italy first was and nulled. Hereupon were erected almose houses, the children should no more be brought up by wild beasts. But this perhaps thou will't say: My son was now become like unto me, I had spent much money care, and pain upon him, and so was likely to have been noble, but these complaints were more meet for mothers: because if thou lamentest thy loss of money, then hadst thou more need to be cured of thy covetise, then comforted for loss of thy son: And hereof be most assured that children do not take three manners and conditions of their Parents, and they will follow the conditions of none less than of them: which is the reason why the children of poor men are more like to their parents, than the children of the rich, because poor men are both fathers & masters of their children's life: but rich men not so. Why shouldest not thou then make an other man's child thy?  
For he is most like the in conditions that is of thy own bringing up: Quintilianus telleth how Alexander had certain imperfections of Lionida his Tutor, which he kept still being come to man's estate. For though we eschew the imitation of vices, yet in virtues we seek to follow them.  
Therefore if he that is dead was loved for virtue, we commend thy meaning, but yet (O Lord) how pleasant, how happy is that life where unto from this obscure darkness thy son is go, yea how sweet was that travail? Neither do I think it needful to declare those joys & pleasures which our souls having forsaken these earthly pleasures do possess: for while the soul is laden with that heavy burden it comprehendeth immortal things with the mortal. Scantly it can be expressed how much force, dignity, and glory the soul being at liberty hath. For the conceiving (and not the teaching whereof) all be it a man in this life, be never so excellent, he is notwithstanding imperfect, because he is only a man complete that understandeth which the soul being closed within the body cannot do. Therefore what marvel is it that the soul, so slowly and painfully departeth from the body? Likewise with great labour and much difficulty a man is from his mother brought forth to this vale of misery. In consideration of all these the bitterness of sorrow for thy sons death should be the less, wayinge the glory which he now hath and the reputation of his youth together with the weary abode he made in his mother's womb. Nature hath ordained, that all great increase of felicity is attained through hard labour. With the same reason shalt thou be comforted, if thy son be an infant and thine only son (I omit to tell what he may hereafter be) but now he hath hit the mark for which he was born. For is there any other end whereto we were born then death? as the body for the soul, and as sleaping for watching, so was life given unto us for death, wherefore as sleep is necesary for all men, some more and some less, so is life for the Souls wherefore if thou want mean to get an other son, then choose thou some other one of thy affinity, and bring him up in learning, & honest discipline & hardly shalt thou find such a son made by his parents. If such a one by education thou makest, thou gainest thanks of God, whose children we all be & of thy country which is mother to all men. Neither in duty shalt thou find him inferior to other children. It is not my meaning to wish the death of children, but that patiently men should bear it, neither will I that the child of an other should be preferred before our own: but rather that thy son be so brought up as he may deserve to be preferred before others, yet if we consider succession, we shall find that excellent Masters have had notable scholars, noble fathers, vile children. And to omit all others. Socrates was not esteemed of his sons, but by Plato his scholar was praised to the skies. Did not Theophrastus commend Aristotle more than Nichomachus. The ancient examples do show that the scholars have proved not only more worthy than sons, but also more thankful what son was ever so favourably to his father, as would yield him the glory due to himself, as Plato would have done to Socrates. Besides that men of notable virtue have not only wanted children but also never sought for any. As Thales, Zeno Plato, Ape●les, Diogenes, Galenus, Virgilius, and Homer and to some they have come as it were against their wills as to Alexander and julius Caesar. And no marvel the noble men have seldom virtuous children. Surely I think for some great respects it cometh to pass, that of some noble parents, vile children should descend, which was very well and pleasantly witnessed of Spartianus, whose words are these, Remembering with myself O Dioclesian Augustus, that almost none of these great men, have left any son very good or proffytable. It appeareth then sufficiently that worthy men, have either died without children or have been without. And first let us begin at Romulus he left no children. Neither had Numa Pompilius any that could profit the common weal, What had Camillus? were his children like him? What had Scipio. What had the two Cato's that were called the great? Then what should I speak of Homer, Demosthenes, Virgilius, Crispo, T●rentius, Plautus, with divers others? What of Caesar or Tullius, to whom alone it had been better to have been childless. What of Augustus? who though he had the choice of all, could not adopt one good,  
Traianus was also deceived in the election of his heir. But omitting adopted children let us speak of babes begotten by Antonius pius, and Marcus the gods of the common wealth. What man had been more blessed than Marcus had he not left behind him his heir Commodus? Or who had been more happy than Severus Septimius, had he not got Bassianus? What do we learn other by these ensamples, than that Children do not take their minds of their Parents, but of God, otherwise they should be like to them, Nor in deed we cannot call them ours, but children of God the common father, and they aught to be embraced for their virtue, not virtue for them, which if men in worldly procedings did mark, they should be like to Gods and lead a blessed life. But nature hath laboured somewhat to deceive us in the Love of children: that is to say, that every man do so much care of that, as for that, we fail not to forget the love of ourselves our country, of god and that (which is most) our children & al. So dotingly we do love our children: as we seem rather to hate than▪ We bring than up not in virtue, but in injury not in learning but in lusting, not in fear of god, but in desire of riches, not to live long, but to the performance of foul delights, yet was it not nature that made this default, of foolish care, & of imoderate love, to whom she gave a certain modest desire of hunger & thirst to every creature, so far as was needful. Yet though imperfection of mind, only man without hunger eateth, & drinketh without thirst, & without necessity doth use every sort of delight. And in like sort doth he love his children so much, as not only he suffereth them, but for them the fathers will also do evil, and attempt all wickedness, and thinketh them of his own making. But assuredly they are not, but ●ee the works of God, who gave them mind, life, form, force, manners, wit, and increase,  
And of these the Father made nothing. Then leave I say to lament for that is none of thine, he that made it hath called it again unto him, to whose Commandment it is boothe just and Godly it should obey. And if thou desire to know whether this Love be Natural, or like unto other desires, an imperfection of mind Behold other living things, who after education do never know their own, not nor love them. But if this were a gift of Nature, it should by reason of pity, and necessity, rather be in children towards their parents, then in parents towards their children, which example Nature as it seemeth did not forget in brute beasts: for among birds, the Stork. Among four foted beasts, the Dormouse, doth feed his aged parents. But after the first education, of love born to their parents no sin is extant, but men (by study as it were) doth pass other living things, through the imperfection of mind esteeming himself to much. The pity of brute beasts cometh altogether, when both of education & love th'end is one, during which time the old beasts be weaker, labersome, lean, careful, and miseserable, as to all men it doth appear. Surely it seemeth a great madness to torment thy mind continually with this nedeles care of posterity, for besides that, this desire is neither reasonable nor necessary, some man may justly marvel, why it is so common, but the answer there unto is not doubted of. If first thou dost show me the cause why so many men become covetous, ireful, and subject to desires of lust. And all these beside they be vices, not natural nor reasonable; are also dishonest. Yet thonly love of children after education though it proceedeth neither of nature nor reason: yet is it honest. But I have perhaps in so apparent & firm matter for wise men spoken more than was requisite. And have used reasons true, though subtle and short. Therefore let us come to longer speech, & arguments more plain, jest I seem not so much to prove, as to deceive, thy son therefore being dead: consider first, whether he was well reported or accounted wicked? For many times the son of a good father, is seen to prove an evil man, by reason the homely vices are hardlier discovered then the external: besides that, love bindeth judgement. Whereof a fable is come forth, how the Cuckoo in old time, for her young birds, contended in singing with the Nightingale and hers: appointing the ass to be their judge, whose sentence was that he known not which of them did sing most sweetly, but well he was assured the Cuckoos did most plainly and distinctly pronounce their notes. So the children of every one are not only best loved, but also the evil by the evil are most allowed of. In which cases, as we have also seen men of right good judgement, meet it is that we should not only lament but also rejoice. And in ancient time they did much more than this, for both Manlius Torquatus against his son Decius Silanus, pronounced so cruel a sentence as with a cord he hanged himself. And M. Scaurus finding his son among others fleinge, being only guilty of fear, did force him to return to his enemies & be slain. Likewise a woman of Lacedaemon, killed her son for his sloth, and returning from the wars, of whom this noble verse was written.  
Thou dastard knight, Damatrion, thy mother here have slain.  
That dost both her, and Spartan blood: with cowardice distain  
Such and more wicked sons being bereft of life do thereby seize to offend their parents & kinsfolk, yea are also themselves saved from greater infamy. Some sons have not forborn to conspire the death of their fathers. As Blandenius Zesides, who slew his mother, and evander that at the persuasion of his mother Nicostrata murdered his own father, and for that cause was banished Italye. Such monsters, as they are being left alive, are causes of many evils: so Paris was the subversion of both Priamus house & country: notwithstanding, when he died, Priamus weped. So foolish are man's cares, that they wish they wots not what, excelling (as they think) the Gods in wisdom, & reprove those that in their ignorance shall procure their good. For if thy son were wise, honest, godly, & nobly minded, having hope of children that may support thine unweldiage. What is wanting in the grand children? & if none be, a fond thing it was to hope that he would not, nor could not do. But how soever it be, greater is the danger of them that are worse than death, then hope of those he hath, to prove better. And misery, vilety, shame, continual grief and disdain are all more evil than death: death is common to all men, but these to few, who also are all subject to death. Were it not better by dying to prevent all these injuries, then to have thy desire so dearlye bought? For necessary it is that who so will live old must suffer many evils. There is almost no mortal creature living long, but at sometimes before he dieth, doth hate his life whereto put the saying of y● Poet.  
Although unweldyage, when life doth wear away,  
None other ill did bring withal, but that, (as men do say)  
By living long full often we see: which we would not behold.  
Truly if such desire thou have of children, if thy son died thou being old, thy time to follow is next: if in thy youth than hast thou hope enough to have more. Finally Sorrow is a womanishe thing, and not fit for men. Therefore the Licians were wont to constrain mourners to wear women's garments, to th'end their garment might agreed with the mind, And surely not without occasion, because among all people, the more vile they be the more beastly they lament. As women first, next children, & then barrennous men, the greatest number of whom be effeminate. Contrariwise men the more valiant they be, the more they oppress their grief and so●er drive their Sorrow away.  
This sort of Sorrow goeth to the infernal God and as it is his custom in many others, so doth he use to call them nearest to him, that most do honour him. But if at the beginning thou drive him away, and suffer not thy mind to be infected full far shall he be from thee: But behold how comely and honest a thing it is that a man of good years, being well counseled by others, should in women's weed, beastely weep, wayl, cry out, and lament.  
O gentle wit. But though he doth none of all these, yet inwardly to torment himself with sadness is the part neither of a wise nor valiant man: but of one that searcheth rather the reprehension of others, then knoweth what is seemly.  
How much better were it for him often to remember Vmbresomnum Homo?  
What could have been better said? So subtylle and fugitive is the life of man, as of all other things, sing shadow is most subtle and sleep most deceivable and incertain, what shall the shadow of sleep be? And yet notwithstanding this is the life and glory of man. One other written thus.  
As the generation of leaves is, so is also man's: for in deed what dissimilitude is there? leaves do fall by force of Son, showers, wind, hail, yea (and if all fail) by themselves: Euenso the life of man, believe me thou haste received none injury at all, Death is the gift of God, and God doth wrong to no man. If condemned by voices of assent thou be deposed from Authority, thou wouldst think that it were meet to bear it with patient mind, though that injury cannot want suspicion, reproach, and falsehood.  
And now when thou fearest none of these, dare thou disallow the Sentence of God? And dost thou not remember that which Leontius Neapoles, the Bishop, telleth to have happened in the life of john, patriarch of Alexandria. To whom when a certain man had offered seven pounds of Gold to pray for his only Son who a month paste, was with a Ship and great riches drowned, after a few days obtained of the Patriarch his desire. And while in the mean space he continued in sadness, he dreamt one night that the Pattriark appeared unto him saying. Lo according to thy prayer that thy son might be saved so he now is, because he is dead, but if he had lived, from wicked life & damnation after death he could not have been preserved, god only knoweth what is expedient for us when we are ignorant ourselves and know not what is to be desired. Wherefore it is convenient that we do not only receive comfort, but also rejoice at the death of our neighbours, of whom if thou desirest to continued any memory though often times also thou wantest their company, it shall be both to the and thy posterity continued by his noble tombs, pictures, statues, verses, orations, dedications, institutions of eternity and sacrifices. Is it not more honest and pleasant to confirm thyself to these comforts▪ to commend his glory to mortal men? then with weeping & wailing to kyl thyself? Yet as to them that are endued with virtue, and acknowledge the felytitye of souls these are superfluous, so to them of manners more frail, such kind of comforts are not unseemelye. For Augustus hanged in his bed chamber the picture of his graundsonne being a child of him dearlye beloved, and so often as he came unto that chamber he never failed to kiss the picture. Alexander did set up certain images to Fabius Quintilianus not with tears but with a solemn oration (containing the commendation of his son) did bury him. What did john Mesue who in his father's name falsely turned the title of his book? So did also Zoar & Aristotle write books to their sons. So did Cicero and Plato in their disputations call upon their brothers & friends, not in mourning garments and weeping, but with monuments everlasting honoured the same to their posterity. But now with reasons (I think) sufficiently it is proved, that the death of children is neither to be so lamented nor evil. Let us now proceed to tell how manfully our elders were wont to bear such mishaps. Octavianus Augustus having within twenty months lost two of his nephews was not moved so much as he refrained to sit daily in the Senate. Demosthenes the vii day after the death of his only daughter put on his white garment, was crowned, & sacrificed an ox, Moore valiantly did Dion, he being in counsel of the common weal, and informed that his only son had fallen from the house top and broken his neck, gave order to his friends for his burial, & notwithstanding proceeded in his business begun. Like hereunto did Antigonus, he seeing his son slain in battle, gave none other sign of sorrow but said. O Alcionen later than thou aught thou art now dead, for so manfully assailing thy enemies, thou dost not greatly esteem my warnings nor thy own weldoinge. The constancy of Pericles can be inferyor to none of these, for when within eight days, he had lost his two sons. Paralus, & Xantippus, young men of singular wit did notwithstanding put upon him his white garment, was crowned, made orations to the Athe●encians, & coming from his house when his children were dead, with marvelous constancy of mind gave counsel & uttered reasons of the discipline of war. So upon a time Anaxagoras his schoolmaster being in disputation, word was brought of his sons death, whereat he paused a little, but by and by confessing he had begotten a mortal creature, proceeded in disputation.  
When Paulus Emylius, had taken in hand the Percian war, he prayed the Gods that if any calamity were coming to the City of Rome, that they would rather lay the same upon his house, which either through his prayer or hap was performed And when of his four sons he had adopted two into the family of Scipio, within few days after he lost tother, neither did he with less patience bear this, then valiantly he wished the other. Tynnichus also a Spartan left his posterity, a monument of worthy ensample. When Trasibulus his son in the wars against the Argini, was slain, in this epigram, is declared the nobility of his mind. 
It seemeth well that cowerds weep, when they be brought to grave  
But thou my son a Spartan true, no weeping tears shalt have.  He hath as me thinketh followed the saying of Papimus.  
A noble death doth parents please, and God such souls do love.  
The valiant minds do gain increase, when life do so remove  
We see that some have not only in the death of their children witnessed their greatness of mind, but also did procure it, and thereof proceeded great proffyte, When Brutus openly punished his two sons, what terror think you was it to his Citizens? what desperation to his enemies? what admiration to his neighbours? So as the example of that valiant deed, was not only the occasion of great increase to the empire, but also, for forty years after it continued in liberty not so much for fear of the pains, as for emulation in virtue.  
What is by thensample of Abraham upon Isaa● showed other than that men should so love their children, as in them to put no trust at all: but ever to honour God so, as we may forget our children, and such are worthy great reward: For which his careful obedience he is made father of many nations, neither shall his seed at any time decay. This was a greater argument of courage then that of Brutus, for he murdered the guiltless & left the children of others his heirs, the other in sleinge, become childless. He by the hands of an other commanded his enemies to be slain, this man murdered those that obeyed. But let us return to ensamples of sufferance, and a shame (it were) that Women should for fortitude exceed men. Among whom what may be said of Tomyris queen of Mesageta. who having her son slain in battle, (where in her enemy Cirus also died) without tears made great feasts, the hole army likewise slain▪ Also Cornelia mother to the Gracchi of a great number of sons, having only C. and T. left, yet when they were in a time of sedition, most cruelly slain (besides calling only to memory their father, & their own worthy acts) did not otherwise make any show of sorrow. Argilion the mother of Brasidas the Lacedaemonian king, hearing her son was slain, did neither mourn nor lament but asked if nobly & worthily he died. Gyrtias' likewise a woman of Lacedaemon when her son was brought home almost dead, and his friends lamented she said. Non Silebitis inquam, declaring of what blood he was descended, she said one body hath overthrown other in fight, yet after being recovered & grown to man's state was slain in battle, which being told unto his mother, she answered saying, was it not expedient the going to the wars he should ●●ea others, or be slain himself? but more wyllinglye I receive knowledge of a death worthy of me & his predecessors, then if in sloth and idleness he had lived. One other woman more valiantly bore the death of her son, promising in the fyeld saying, let cowards complain, for I will without tears and meerelye bury my son. And another, a woman also of Lacedaemon, having lost in wars her five sons, standing upon the walls of Sparta and listing for the evente of the battle, when she saw a man coming asked what was done? (he thinking she had asked of her sons) answered, they are all dead: whereat the woman offended, said, it is not (that) ill luck I ask, but how speeds our country, than he telling that the victory was got by the Lacedæmonians, the woman said with all good will I receive knowledge of my sons slaughter. In old time such was the nobility of mind, both in men and women, aswell for courage as counsel. But now enough or rather as I think to much have been said aswell of them, as also appertaineth to death. It is not therefore needful to speak of friends, kinsfolk, or wives, seeing of them the plenty is great, the conditions uncertain, and the necessity little: yea the cares and disquiet of wives, do almost countervail the sorrow of their deaths. And though wives were not shrewed nor cumbersome, yet can no man at any time long want a wife, sith one may be taken after an other. And albeit that wives were all good, all friends faithful, and all kinsfolk kind, yet seeing the death of a brother, a son and a father is patiently to be born, a folly it were to lament them, or call such doubtless matters in question. But rather resolve with thyself, that death is the end of evil to fools, and to wise men the beginning of all good. And as saith Menander.  Whom God doth love: in youth he dies. 
FINIS.   

Of Comfort the third Book.  
MVche longer than was determined, & more at large have I discoursed that kind of comfort which to sorrow & death doth appertain: not only because I think the occasion of grief which groweth either of pryua●e death or loss of friends is little, or lightly born: but also that in these days men do so much desire riches & authority, as till death doth even at hand draw on, they take no care at all. Each man in imagination alloweth himself long time of life, disdaining death as a thing not known in this, but an other world. But riches, and present authority, are on every side sought for, as joys which he everlasting▪ Yet not contented with▪ this, they also reprove, condemn, and despise the quiet life of such as are not with like madness delighted. For the chiefest care such men do take, is that of all other most wise and happy: neither of which (in judgement of those that disdain them) can be allowed. Then when these wealth men perceive that the others are not greatly grieved, forthwith they fall to hate and persecution. So as although men could willingly suffer their base estate: yet being driven into any kind of necessity or calamity, strait ways they lament and complain: so as by confession of them, for great desire of riches, the rich men are allowed of and praised for the wisest sort of men. But seeing the estate of time and worldly procedings are not ever alike, we mean not to speak much of that calamity which these ambitious men do think the greatest, but of that misery which may so truly be called: for such kind of men do labour to continued after death, and glory in their own happiness. As the Poet writing upon the tomb of a certain happy man said.  
Upon my corpse pour forth thy wine, O friend that comes this way,  
And on my tomb with pleasant hand, thy precious spices say.  
No gulf of grief my grave shallbe, but springe of lasting bliss,  
I am not dead but changed my life, lo such my fortune is,  
My former joys are not decayed, but as they were before,  
If aught or naught I bear in mind, yet blest for evermore.  
O merry man, how aptly hath he nothing said, for this presumption to continued felicity after death, is a thing altogether vain, and forsaken of the very authors thereof. For well we see that after death, the glory of riches doth in short space decay. Not only because great numbers do daily aspire to this praise: but also riches itself deserveth no glory at all. And among so many thousand thousands as in their time was famously rich, yet few of them have come to our knowledge. Gilias, Croesus, Midas, Pythius, Meander, Erictonius, Sisyphus Tantalus. Of the Romans that had been bond men, Amphion, Menecrates, Heron, Demetrius, Pallas, Calistus, Narcisus. Of Frenchmen, Drusus, Caecilius, Sylla, Lucullus, Livius, M, Crassus. Of Kings, Solomon and Ptolomeus, were all reported for notable rich. But Gylias become famous for liberality, Croesus and Crassus, for their misfortune, Sylla & Lucullus for their victories, Midas through Silenus. The Romans that had been bond men by the abuse and riot of Rome: Solomon for wisdom, Tantalus for wicked life, Meander and Pythius for their bounty to the Persian kings. C. Caelius for his Testament: Ptolomeus for princely majesty, Erictonius and Sisyphus through Poet's liberty L. Drusus for his magnificence. So as none almost for only riches gained glory: although they were such men as might easylier attain to fame for virtue, than so great riches. To what use that after death riches should serve no man knoweth, nor can imagine. And although that after death they did yield glory to thee, and use to others, yet the same is to thee nothing at all. Rather aught thou remember to pass in to those parties, whether thou can carry nothing besides thy virtue and vices of mind, When soever therefore thou shall dye, will come to memory not thy riches, but thy sinful offences, not thy honour or authority, but thy hope and faith of Salvation. For at that instant (I omit thy former miseries) all things shallbe subverted, and to thy sight the hole world shallbe turned to the first Chaos. And as the land doth seem to move in the sight of such as sail in the ship (& yet in deed doth not) but it is the ship that removeth and not the land: so in the hour of death shall the whole world seem to be subverted, when thou shalt for ever take leave of earthly life, never again to see thy worldly friends, nor thy riches wherein thou so much delighted. Therefore if after death thou hopest of any life, why dost thou not consume thy time in virtue? or if none? yet why seekest thou not thine own quiet? sith for other life thou lookest not, nor hopest to return again to this. But happily it may be said that this sorrow is sweet (as it is to rub a sore) A pleasure it is to be rich, to govern, to be praised and to oppress others, & this is the uttermost mark of man's felicity. O foolish imagination: but let that pass, so thou disprove not others of sounder opinion. Yet (if without offence I may so do) let me ask why men like unto children do build houses that will by and by fall down? why do they vainly travail, not only in body, but also in mind? Yet let us a while convert our speech to other matter (for I am enforced many ways to degress from our purpose) and let us first declare why my former book become so long: and therewythall show that for all calamities (if any seem intolerable) there is one remedy. It was therefore with great diligence approved the death is not to be numbered among the evils: for saying the mean to come thereunto is open to all men, none (but such as willingly are) can justly be called unhappy. Tiberius' suruayinge his prisoners, was asked by one of them how sun he should dye? answered▪ I am not as yet reconciled unto thee. A true answer surely in respect of the matter, but tyrannous if y● consider the meaning. And this was one other cause why my last book was the longer. For against all sorts of miseries three special remedies we have, Death, Wisdom, and Fortune. They are commonly constrained to use the help of death, that cannot take commodity of the other too, being fallen into those calamities which seem the greatest. Wherefore Damidas the Lacedaemonian seemed discretely to answer one saying unto him, that unless the Lacedæmonians were reconciled to Philippus, they should be in great hazard (for at that time the Lacedæmonians were the kings enemies, who had won Peloponesus:) O cowardly man quoth Damidas what can be intolerable to us if we fear not to die? In like manner a boy of Lacedaemon being taken by Antigonus, and sold in services meeete for free men, did willingly yield himself to take pains, but when he was employed to vile works (and among the rest, to empty urinals) he refused to do it. For which, when his master did sore threaten him, he forthwith climbed upon the top of the house, and said, now shalt thou know whom thou hast bought, and therewithal cast himself down headlong. So Crassus being taken prisoner and fearing dishonour, with his riding rod he strake out the eye of a barbarous soldier, who moved with ire forthwith did slay him. A common experience it was in the old time, by willing death to eschew long or shameful kinds of dying. And if I should writ the names only of such as in the reigns of Nero, Caligula, and T●berius, did willingly kill themselves, the history would be to long, or if I rehearsed the number, no man would believe me. Now whilst we speak of these voluntary deaths, it cometh to memory, that not long since in the City of Venice there lived a certain Apoticarye, he for some great offence being condemned to dye, desired to speak with his brother, who in kissing him delivered certain poison which he brought in his mouth closed within a nut shell, by force whereof, after a few hours he died: whereby he saved himself from longer sorrow, and eschewed the reproach of dishonourable death. We read that some men to avoid extreme sickness, have voluntarily ended their lives: of which number was Pomponius Atticus, a famous man extremelye tormented with a grievous disease, & at length finding some rest, pined himself for not falling into his former pains. In like manner died Corellius Rufus to avoid the pains of the gout. But our Laws do not permit any man to procure his own death: and for good reason: For that nothing should be intolerable to a Christian man (only extreme torment) which the Law doth not allow, yet by law is permitted. Now let us prove the besides this intolerable sorrow (and that not altogether except) there is nothing that can make a man discouraged, and that all men being wise, are equally happy and unhappy. So as I may think with Socrates, that if all man's cares and evils were by one assent laid togethers on one heap, and equally divided to every man alike, after we had seen the greatness of others grieves, we would choose to take upon us our own, rather than to abide the chance in division: because each man knoweth his own evils, and is ignorant how great the grieves of others be, which is the reason why each man thinketh himself most unhappy. In discourse whereof two things may be objected: the one, that this book can only profit those that be learned: and also without this, the learned by reading of Cicero, chiefly his books, De Finibus bonorum, his Tusculane questions, his Paradox, and De Senectute, Plutarch, Petrarchus & Boetius, with divers others, shall find no small remedy in all calamities. And how shall the simple and unlearned sort (as is the most part of the people and many gentlemen also) take profit of this book? So as in comforting the learned I shall seem presumptuous, and for the unlearned superfluous. But I need not fear to be herein accused, because (as at the beginning. I 〈…〉 other books were made for others ●se, but this only for myself, which though it cannot compare with the eloquent of Cicero, the gravitye of Plutark, the subtiltye of Petrark, or philosophy of Boetius, yet is well liked of myself, for that reason I alleged at the beginning in children, that every one loveth his own work. Yet have we erred? who knoweth it not? but those errors are tolerable which harm not others, and proceedeth of nature. The other whereof I must accuse myself, is, that some will happily say, that when a man enjoyeth health, he may easily counsel the sick: which is as much as to persuade with vain words, that in works we do not perform, and therefore in speech only do make a show of virtue. Of which blame Cicero, Plutarch, Petrarcha & Aristotle himself do excuse me, because they extolled magnanimity & yet in adversity did not show it, and chiefly Cicero, who of all others declared himself most base and abject of mind. The others endured no great adversity, for besides a little time in banishment they lived rich and favoured with Princes, and that worthily. Also it is not requisite that all good men, though they be valiant of mind, with peril of their people should put their valour in proof, the one is a trial of fortune, the other of virtue. Neither is it ever necessary that such as say well, should also 〈…〉 for truth sometimes is maintained by wicked 〈◊〉. But although by dissembling I might escape these reprehensions: yet where I say that for allay of mine own grief this labour is taken in hand, hardly it is allowed in reason that they that 〈◊〉 always lived in prosperity, can 〈…〉 others comfort in adversity. For if a man would so do, yet were there small good liekly to follow. This book shall therefore gain the more 〈◊〉 with others, that I myself have been in my 〈◊〉. And although (as erst I said) every man may praise virtue, yet is it not the part of those that be 〈◊〉 to direct a life contrary to their own words. How can we lead the like life, either in fortitude or patience, or declare the same to others, if we have always lived in prosperity? Therefore should I omit the greatest & most necessary part of this book, If I leave untold, y● (as I think by divine de●●nye) I was begotten, born, & brought up, in great misery, & so have almost till this day lived. For such as do persuade others to sustain great pain, if they themselves have done the like, thereby they procure their words both credit & authority to be the rather believed of others. So did 〈◊〉, Pho●ion, Socrates, Plato, Cato, all the Prophets and holy men, yea the author of all good JESUS CHRIST. Yet have I not mdured these worthy men because I would seem to contend with them is virtue, but rather follow their order of life. And the more barely I was born, the more may others (if they will) hope to excel my 〈◊〉 in adversity. You shall therefore first understand, that in the time of pestilence I was conceived, my mother as (I think) undelivered become partaker of my misery & was forced to fly. The 8. day of the 〈◊〉 of October, in the year of Gra●●. 1501. half dead came▪ I into this world, when all men despairing of life by virtue of a bath made of vine I was recey●●d: within three months next after I lost two of my brethren & one sister, the plague continuing in our City. The sickness spreading more abroad in Pa●●a, suddenly of the same death died my foster father. Afterwards I was boldly and charitably r●c●yued into the hands of Isiodo●●● Resta 〈…〉 man & friend to my father, where 〈…〉 few days I fell sick diseased with the dropsy 〈…〉 of the liver, yet nevertheless preserved either through the ire or merryed of GOD, I know not on● kind of 〈◊〉 was afterwards unapproved, 〈◊〉 I attained eight years of age. At which time I become servant to my father till I 〈…〉 the age of ninetene. O Lord even thus I passed the flower of my youth both without delight and study. At length percevinge that by force I might not compel my father, entreat him I could not, and to deceive him I thought it dishonestye: for love of learning I intended to have entered into Religion. My mother then seeing her want of children, entreated my father to put me to school, where I remembering my time already lost, and the shortness of man's life, earnestly applied myself to study, ever in fear jest my father hearing some evil report should take me away. And there as one never in school before, I was not a little troubled with hardness of the latin tongue. Yet among all these labours my father did grant me leave to study the Science of Geometry & Logic, wherein although he helped me only with a few good lessons, books & liberty, yet through study at spare times I did attain unto them. Then absence's increasing my father's good opinion, the plague being great he died, having newly begun to love me. At that time the cruel wars began in our country, being poor and void of all other help, through great care & diligence of my mother I was sustained, when my small patrimony sufficed not. For such as it was, I did consume it in the office of 〈…〉 university. Neither had I any other 〈◊〉 than Chess play to procure myself a living. So being from one misfortune to another transported, I settled myself in the town of PAVIA▪ where by practice of Physic (though poor lie) I sustained myself and my family, as one (that besides I had nothing) was indebted by reason of my vain office. Then by my mother's letters was I called home to my country, where I found nothing well ordered, nor no friend, my cos●●s sued in law against me, and in our College of Physicians I was repulsed, being suspected a bastard because my father did so evil entreat me. Neither can I boast of any favour found in the Physicians of Padua, where having twice deserved to have been made Doctoure, I was notwithstanding iniustlye denied my grace, and at last through the earnest suit of the Podestate, scantly granted. A shameful act, if mine own evil fortune, and not their lewdness did offer me so great injury. Then despairing of all good, I fell into the sickness which we call Consumption, a sickness (as the Physicians say) incurable. And yet (whether through good prayer or for other purpose preserved) after seven months, without help of Physic and beyond all expectation I escaped Consider now what cares, what sorrow & vexation my mind endured: when on the one side mine own great poverty, & on that other my mother's unwieldy age was considered. Besides this, the frowardness of my friends, the wrong as I thought of Physicians, the threatening of a great man, the despair of health, lack of friends, and want of abiding place, did altogether molest me. I wanted wherewith to live: labour I could not, & to beg I thought it shameful, Amids so many calamities whereinto unfriendly fortune, the hardness of my father, the misliking of kinsfolk, and the misery of the time had cast me, through good counsel I eschewed (at lest wise) the presence of my miseries by returning to the City, where many friends did comfort and help me, and through God's grace sodeinlye I escaped my sickness. Afterwards to meet with mysorder of sickness I used abstinence, against the affliction of fortune, patience, against poverty, sparing, against suit, diligence, against repulses, the study of learning. And always from the beginning till this time, this book (though not then written yet conceived did greatly comfort me. Thus returned to my country I found my mother in health. Before which time, even till this day having suffered many miseries (perhaps to others intolerable) by disdain I overcame them al. First I was relieved and defended by my good Patron the reverend bishop Phillippus Archintus both for virtue and learning, a wise and worthy man. After, through commendation of that excellent Prince Alphonsus Auolus, (to whom I dedicated my book De eternitatis Archanis) I was by procurement and singular favour of Franciscus S●o●dratus the noble Senator, choose into the order with the good liking of every honest man, being then almost forty years of age. Such hath been the course of my life, crazed with continual & great calamities. Whereunto what my study hath helped you may conjecture. As for greater gifts of fortune I did contemn them, with like mind that I suffered all offered injuries. Wherefore to the continuance of my life and recovery of quiet, I have not obtained of God any thing more profitable, than patience: for by virtue thereof amids my greatest miseries, I found favour and help in them of whom I never had any good deserved. For Franciscus Bonafidus a good and faithful Physician, so stoutly defended my cause against the wrong of the Physicians of PADUA, as no brother for a brother would have done more.  
Great assistance did I also find in Franciscus Cruceius a most upright Lawyer, my suit dependinge in the City of Milan: Who was also the occasion why in divers sayings, teaching, writing, and inventinge, I bestowed much travail. And albeit a mind unmolest may best do all other things: yet have I found that invention requireth a quiet mind, which may appear by divers and sundry my Books. etc.  
But of myself perhaps I have to much spoken, not in mine own commendation, but for examples sake. For what praise can base parentage be, the displease of my father, friends, and Country, my health hindered, my fortune unfriendly, mine estate poor, and next to beggerye: who so therefore doth think me to have spoken all this for glory, which tendeth rather to shame, must needs condemn me of great folly. And he will think me utterly unwise, who so ever judgeth me to have spoken these things for ostentation, which are rather matters to be ashamed of it (leaving our purpose) we yield to the common opinion of others. But it was mine intent by one example to teach these three things. First that without a conscience guilty of evil, no man is miserable. Secondly, that the valiency of mind doth greatly help, not only to contentation, but also to procure the mutation of fortune. lastly that the reading of this book was profitable both to persuade unhappy men with patient mind to suffer adversity, & those that be happy in their own opinion, to be modest and continent. Besides that (as is already said) though men do want this or such like books to read, yet shall they in their misery be deprived of all comfort? surely no. For so should we take upon us a thing almost divine. Because this only is necessary to save thee from misery, that thou persuade thyself thou art not miserable. Which rule in one word may be taught and learned of every man. And whosoever shall not conceive this reason which is available to persuade the wise, then let them read this or some such book as necessary. But the simple sort, & common people, believing this rule, need not these reasons which our law of life doth also approve. But such as would instruct others, may receive of this Book some profit, though I untaught have written it only to myself, & being used to demonstrations, have believed what followeth death: yet that here on earth should be neither felicity nor misery, only by reason of ancient writers I could not prove. I thought therefore expedient not only to reduce their sayings together, but also to add thereunto what soever I could. Wherefore to begin at the discommodities of poverty, sing the burden of them seemeth to some intolerable, and as Menander affirmeth. No burden is more heavy than poverty, And on the contrary part Richeses have always been had in price. The saying of the Poet is yet unchaunged.  
Now wealth doth wield the world, and wealth doth worship gain  
Yea wealth doth win the friends at will, the poor each where complain  
But now let us not at all adventures, but orderly as we can (because it containeth many points) enter into our matter. First we must prove that the poor man is no less happy than the rich. Secondly that poverty is no impediment to glory. Thirdly that there is nothing more hurtful to a poor man then to desire to become rich. Fourthly that after death riches doth neither profit the dead man nor his posterity. And to the first part this I say, that in a poor common weal the felicity is more than in the rich, there is ever found less hate, less ambition. and less disorder. Titus Livius telleth that albeit the common weal of Rome, was at the beginning afflicted with sundry seditions, yet among so furious a people besides words nothing was done, so as without judgement was executed. Tiberius Gracchus was the first man that without law was put to death, syxe hundred twenty and one year, after the building of that City, even then newly attained to some riches. Plinius witnesseth how great commendations the ambassadors of the Carthaginences (being enemies to the people of Rome) did give unto the Romans for their mutual love. But after that riches grew to estimation in Rome, nothing continued in assurance, nothing undisquieted the people without concord, the Senate without authority, slaughter without respect, government without law, wicked life without controlment, common people without reverence, youth without bashfulness, old men without gravity. All things were profaned and mixed, with the dregs of slaves and strangers From hence sprung up the fruit of all mischief, whereby it appeareth plain, that misery followeth the footsteps of rich common weals, and quietness proceedeth from poverty. The Lacedæmonians likewise while they lived almost in beggary were glorious and happy.  
In witness whereof we find that when the king of Persia did sand certain ambassadors to Lacedaemon, they were there through fury of the people rob and slain. There was in Lacedaemon a temple of Talthibius, Agamemnon's crier, a sanctuary for ambassadors, which upon a time not yielding to the sacrifycers any lucky prophecies (for that was taken for a religeon) it moved the penitent Lacedæmonians that in stead of the ambassadors slain, as many (that is to say too) should offer themselves, to death. Then Sparthius and Bulis offered theymselues departing thence to Lacedaemon, before they should come to Xerxes son of Darius, (who before had sent the ambassadors) they came to Hidernes the kings Liutenant, who entertaining them courteously, after he known the cause of their coming, and the greatness of their minds, persuaded them rather to choose the kings favour, than death, for Xerxes would make them rulers over all Greece, and that he himself was one of his Lords, whose State he willed them to consider and if they would follow his counsel, they should not refuse the kings friendship.  
Then answered they, Thou knowest not Hidernes how joyful a thing the pleasure of liberty is, where of thou ever serving a king had never proof, but if once thou mightest taste thereof, thou wouldst prefer it before all the kingdoms of Percia. Such felicity had these men in their Common weals, either of poverty, or at the jest wise with poverty. And yet was the life of the Lacedæmonians (as before I said) hard, by reason of their use in wars, notwithstanding, by the benefit of poverty (having no money at all) so dear to them was liberty, as they esteemed it above a kingdom.  
But omyttinge to speak of Common weals let us inquire of private Life, where in is greater Pleasure, greater Quiet, then in kingdoms, neither can a King be assured of friends, neither can he feel the chiefest sweet of Venus' joys, being in doubt of desembled love. For well you know the chief and greatest delight of that pleasure is, to love and be loved. And how can he know himself beloved, when fear of power or hope of reward do make the willing suspected. It is no marvel therefore that so many do declare themselves unthankful to princes, for they cannot be accounted as friends, that either for hope, fear, or daily reward, be entertained. Therefore Philippus reproved his son Alexander, because with giving he thought to gain the good will of people. Albeit the life of princes is most noble, yet wanting love and friendship, by no means can be accounted happy, because they are to seek of such benifyts as do nearest approach the happiness of mortal men. But let us now consider that although in these things they were equal to poor men, whether then the life of Princes, or common people, were more pleasant. The poor man rising early, after his hands be washed, resorteth to his labour, where having a while exercised himself (besides the help of his hungry supper the night before) with his fellow in labour, where, with hongrye Sauce they savour all sorts of meat, what soever cometh to hand seemeth pleasant, delicate, and precious. In dining time, they common of pleasant matters, and tell what hope he hath of time to come. This company breeds no dissension, this diet causeth no sacietye, no disdain, no suspicion. The dinner ended, after pawsinge a while, they return to accustomed labour, wherein they get good appetite to supper. There being met, they want no mirth, gentle jests, and pleasant tales according to the quality of the guests, Then to bed they go, whereunto preparing themselves, the shining stars do stir them up to look to heaven, and remember that at length they shall come into that most blessed country, promising in mind (if any thing were sinfully done) thamendment of their offences. Thus wearied with long labour by day so sun as he cometh in bed, suddenly he falls in to sound sleep. In such a sort living, the simple man gaineth healthy and long life, neither troubled with repentance of passed time, nor fear of that will after follow. When holy days do happen he rests his weary bones. Then wandereth he at will, and if aught therebe in town pleasant or worthy sight, he may without offence see it.  
He veweth the suburbs, the green fields & men dove's, he meeteth his companions & taketh each where his disport. He mindeth no displeasing imaginations, he joyeth in life, and liveth prepared for death. And if happily he be learned, may be some what the more accounted happy.  
But the Prince's life is clear contrary. He having shaken of his yesterdays surfyte riseth up, his mouth not well in taste, but on the one side offended with unsweete savour of his own stomach, on the other distempered with evil rellesse, Then assemble on every hand his Guard, soldiers, servants, parasytes flatterers, and suitors, his men 〈◊〉 about him, they exclaim, cry out, & complain, because all things are out of good order. The porters keep back the importunate people, & some perhaps they promise' liberty to pass in.  
And if the prince be of good disposition secretly he examineth his affairs, which finding to be infinite in number, he loatheth his own life. For some things he dispayreth to bring to pass: and some things he hath great care of. Now he blameth the infidelity of some people. Now he accuseth the sloth of others, now he findeth fault with some man's covetise .. Now he forecasteth some necessary matters. Now he heareth prayers. Now he harkneth to suits wherein the more attentive he is, the moor is his trouble, and care of mind, so at last he referreth all to his Counsel. Thus you see that as to a prince nothing is displeasant, so doth he nothing with pleasure. When dinner time cometh, then is he solemplye served with Dishes, Platters, Cups, Carpets, Wine Salads, Sauce, meat, bread, Dainties of strange devise and all sorts of princely provision, But being thus settled at meat, either he hath no company at all or having, they be commonly inferiors, and forced therefore to be placed far beneath him, who though outwardly merrelye disposed, yet inwardly laden with many cares. And as the Poet saith. within whose fearful face the paleness did appear, of great and grievous love. But now to return to a king who fed with delicate dainties and clothed in rich 〈…〉 glutted with yesterdays cheer) doth neither 〈◊〉 his meat, nor take pleasure in sight of any things he can behold. But clothed with all delicacy, he leaneth back looking round about, and at 〈◊〉 chooseth some one meat that least doth offend him. And admit he could take delight in eating or drinking, should that much pleasure him? surely no: Because all he doth is joined with suspicion. He fears his meat, his drink, his stole his Chair, his Trenchour, his napkin, and knife for in every of them may 〈◊〉 secret ●oyson What pleasure can eating be, beset with so many suspytions? Were it not better to Sup with simple salads, roots, and fruit, then with all these rich dishes and dangerous delicates? what can be worse than suspicion, where peril may also lurk and fear is never away? which Dionysius by good ensample proved, For when Damocles had long flattered him (as parasites do always follows Tyrants) for proof of such felicity he caused Damocles to put on his princely apparel placed him in his own princely chair, and set before him all the pomp, joys, and riches of Sira●usa: which done by a small thread he hanged over his head a sharp sword naked, which Damocles seeing, he dared not stretch out his arm, nor make any motion to 〈◊〉 himself of those delicates which were set befools him but finding himself on every side beset with fear, he prayed Dionysius to deliver him from this royal feast, where he learned so much as never after he desired to become a king. Moreover to speak of a princess' life when he hath royally & sumptuously di●ed, and all his dishes with great ceremony taken away, incommeth jesters, jugglers & minstrels: some they craftily flatter, some they back bite, & some they seek to disgrace: some fall to laughing, & some to mopping & mowing, while others do sound the instruments. In every of which actions, the more kindly a man playeth the para●●te, the more he is allowed of. During these doings the prince with feigned cheer, museth on other matters, more waightye: and happily occasioned by some advertisements written ●nto him, to counsel be goeth: where 〈◊〉 matters be called in 〈◊〉 Neither pleasant to be hard nor good in the execution. Because some are unjust, some evil, & some perilous. Such displeasant imaginations a king hath, now he findeth offence, now he discoverethe treasons, now feeleth ingratitude, now he revealeth suspicion now he discovereth error, and evil proceeding of ministers, and now he findeth that in fydelity of princes. His mind thus molested, he sigheth and sorroweth hoping to remove the memory of such imaginations, perhaps he hunteth, rideth, or beholdeth others riding. Wither forth●● the people run, and bring that to mind which he would willingly have left unthought of. Then after speech of sundry matters, to supper he goeth, whereof he fyndethe the like annoy that his 〈◊〉 did offer him. At length to bed, where before sleep he museth of many displeasant matters, how many men are▪ or must be executed, though not altogether justly, yet necessarily, What practices are made, what fear, what envy, what injury, what war, what spoil, what subversion of Cities, what suspicion of death, and last of all desireth either not to be, or else to enjoy a more quiet life.  
And thus from one fancy to an other, he turneth & tosseth his mind, yet in the end finds all things so confuse, as nothing is assured or parmanent & thus he desireth to sleep, which is not easlye had his stomach being overcharged with a surfytinge supper. And admit he doth sleep, in sleeping he meeteth unquiet imaginations, fearful dreams & visyons. Though his bed be rich, soft & delicate, yet his rest often times hard & short. What life is this then sinful of cares and anxitye of mind. And as Antigonus answered his son Demetrius telling him, that more mildly he behaved himself towards his subjects then stood with his honour? O son (quoth he) thou knowest not that a kingdom is nothing else then a glorious servitude. So Tymo●ion the most happy of all the Graecian Dukes, said that princes were the ministers and servants of many. Besides all these cares which kings are cumbered withal, such as are Tyrants be occupied with incest rape, murder of innocentes, poison, threatenings, violence, torments, and sacrilege, yea fear and suspicion are on every side at hand. As many there be whom a tirante fears as are those that live in fear of him, which the verse of Laberianus against Caesar the Dictator doth well set forth, saying. Of force he must fear many: whom daily many fear. What guard is so vigilant as can defend him: He suspecteth his wife, his children, his paramour, his cupbearer, his barber. A misery sure to great to be wished to enemies, or the most wicked people. But now I see much hath been said of felicity though confusely. Let us therefore at length more inperticuler touch every on. And first I say the life of a poor man is longer, more healthy, & strong, then the which rich men have, neither do I think y● and do doubt thereof. Only three men I do remember the have passed the age of a hundred years, & all they almost beggars, one was a Carpenter, the other Apothicarye, and the third a ploweman. How can his life belong that liveth in lust, idleness, and surfyting, whereof richmen do scarcely eschew any one How differing therefore be the orders of man's lives the one in abstinence and exercise, the other in banqueting and evil rule. Ever continuing in idleness or preposterous labour, watching by night & sleeping the day? Hereof cometh dropsies, consumptions, and gouts to richemen: But what poreman almost doth complain of them? The complexion of their faces doth often times also show what life they lead. A poor man other whiles hath more beautiful Chlydrens then hath the rich man, & in having them as fortunate. They many times are barren or have children very weak and sickly: but poremen never want, yea rather are overburdened. And the reason there of apparent. For children are made of their parents feed, which being plentiful giveth the child a lively spirit and strong body, both which are increased by labour. In noble personages it is far otherwise: if they meet seldom they make many children, but weak one's: if they meet often none at all. But poor people have many children, or not, yet some, & those strong. For which cause Lycurgus ordained a good law, that when women were with child, they should be enforced to labour. Besides all this poor men have liberty, whereof princes possess little. Poremen do visit every place, but princes may not, and where they go, great preparation is made. So nothing is done suddenly, but long thought upon. A prince is enforced, to tarry the leisure and flouth of his servants, to bear with their errors. In summer notwithstanding all provision he is annoyed with dust. In winter he shonneth the cold, and yet do feel it. But the poor man in summer exersiseth himself in the shadow: and in winter with labour driveth the cold away, and that with pleasure. The richman carefully defendeth his own Lands, but the poor man beholdeth all, and the seldomer he hath liberty to see the greater pleasure he hath in seeing. Neither do thou ymagin I say otherwise then I think: myself have never wished any thing less than to have gardens in the suburbs, for the reason abovesaid, that other man's for their rareness do more delight and to have them mine own were nothing profitable, All men do study to live, which living the poor man by labour doth get, his Nature is strong, his body uncorrupt. But happily thou wilt prefer art before nature. I yield to thy opinion. We see that art though not exquisyte, doth also help poor men, but to rychmen art is an hindrance. And some things which poor men account vile and base, are with rich men had in great price. As lettyse, apples, grapes, and radish And contrary wise rich men make none account of partrydge, hares, peacocks, and plovers, which poor men esteem for excellent delycatees. What choice is there in things, when it is only change, that breeds the difference? Cicero telleth that Supping with Lentulus he surfyted of sweet Beets. The like reason there is to prove that a poor man sleepeth more sound than the rich. And as men say.  
The grassy flag, the silk more soft  
doth yield the sleeps with great delight:  
But stately beds in towers aloft,  
the richmans' rest with fears, affright.  
The rich man troubleth his mind with cares. The poor man careth only by labour to get his living The richmans' cares are earnest & manifold, how to keep his wealth, how to bestow it, & which way to account with his receivers. The poor man careth only for himself, The rich man is enforced to keep others, whereof groweth so great sorrow as sometimes we read that they have not only languished, but also killed themselves. The poor man with loss of goods is neither so tormented as he killeth himself nor so desperate as to occasion others to lay hand upon him. One only fear the poreman hath, which is, jest he lack wherewith to live. And yet what a number of helps hath he? Friends, alliance, kinsfolk, good men, and hospitals, Neither shalt thou almost find any (unless they be dishonest) y● can want any thing. For whoso getteth by art any thing, aught not from day to day spend all, but ever keep somewhat in store, which rule observed, there is no danger of beggary.  
Thus we see the wants of poor men many ways supplied. And among the rest a poor man in time of famine may live by serving the rich, who are subject to such inconvenients as can not be eschewed as Imposition of Princes, subtlety of servants, craft of heirs, deceit of enemies and men unknown. Whereof came the Satire.  
Some hourding up great heaps of gold, not knowing how to use them,  
Like sacred stuff doth store up wealth: so folly doth abuse them,  
But who needeth to marvel or think I have alleged a feigned reason, when I myself have seen an hundred men by sundry means through their riches to perish without fault. Others have been poisoned by their familiars, others slain with the sword others hanged, some rob by the way, as was Curtius in our city, and Aluisius Donatus in that town of Saccensi. But of such as have perrished through hunger, in my life I have scarcely seen four, and they not with out fault. For ensample whereof it were superfluous to recite any histories, the proof thereof being daily seen. Therefore among so few richmen, sing so many for riches do miscarry, and among so many poor men so few do perrishe for hunger: is not in that respect the condition of rich men much worse than the state of the poor? The rich man provideth shifted of apparel & household stuf, not only needful, but also burdenous, which asketh care, keeping, and daily reparation. And yet god knoweth no gold is more wholesome to drink in them glass, neither is Silver more cleanly than stone, nor brass more meet to boil in then the pitchers of earth. Garments the more simple they be, the more wholesome & less burdenous. A man cometh into this world naked, he needeth a garment but no burden. The Romans, and Lacedæmonians, were at the beginning so basely apparelled, as that kings had them in admiration. As touching nedeles garments what should I say other then as Socrates said, beholding the wares to be sold in the fair: How many things are there I need not? He accounted them next to the Gods that wanted fewest things. The gods have no want to be supplied, and all things supper fluous is troublesome, chiefly in apparel. Dust do decay it, water doth rot it, the thief doth steal it, thy friend do wear it, the walls do rub it, wearing doth make it thread bore, thy neighbour doth borrow it and seldom restore it so good as it was lent. What is this apparel, other than a troublesome and burdenous braverye: If thou regard their beauty, painted clotheses be best, or if thou respect the ambition. that shall hereafter be declared.  
But let us consider whether love be more towards the poor or the rich. A poor man is simple and truly loved, the richman is either feared or honoured. And if happily he be loved none assurance he can have thereof. But percase it may be said that a richman is more sure from injury? surely no A poor man may best be revenged, for nothing he hath to loose, nor that he fears to forego. The rich man careful both of life and living suffereth many injuries. It is magnanimity of mind and no worldly goods that maketh a man to live in security, yet perchance you say: A rich man may most safely offend others. But how? A poor man performeth his offence alone in person: but the rich man having committed offence (though none other peril were) hath fellows in offendinge and ever fears to be by them detected. He hath also champion's & ministers to whom he is indebted which I think the Poet knew speaking of Domitianus whom for his cruelty he called Nero saying in this wise. 
But would to God he rather had, his time consumed in toys.  
Then cast such care on cruel deeds, or sought such wicked joys,  
When noble states he plucked a down, and men of worthy fame,  
His subjects love forthwith he lost, and gained eternal blame.  
But when in blood of simple souls, he bathed his bloody hand,  
Without renenge he felt the smart, and could no longer stand.  
Such guerdon God doth give, to men of cruel mind  
that seek the lives of harmless folk.  Then I pray you what hath a rich man better than a poor? Life, health, children, meat, sleep, friends, liberty, security, delight, quiet. garments, vtensiles, love, rest, with all other things more desired. It is therefore no marvel that Horatius said. 
Happy is he whom God hath provided suffycientlye wherewith to live.  He liveth in best estate that possesseth so much as may maintain him to live, which as Aristoteles saith is so much as is needful, for a man's own person and his woman's. The Prophet doth witness the same saying: O Lord give me neither riches nor poverty. And if nedely I must decline from the mean, Richeses are more perilous than poverty. For poverty is relieved by industry and art, but there is no remedy against the discommodities of Richeses. Also the fall from riches is great and without recovery, but poverty differeth little from sufficiency where of to live. In poverty a man hazardeth only his body, but in using riches both body and Soul is adventured. Finally if poverty be removed all inconveniences that it doth bring be also taken away. But such as love riches, they falling do notwithstanding keep still their imperfections both of body and mind. Poverty therefore undoubtedly is more happy & more assured than riches, yea and more fit to attain to glory. For who but poverty did first find out the arts as saith. Theocritus, O Diophante●, poverty is the only mistress and inventor of labour and art. Surely unless I be deceived rich men were never partakers of this praise. And when these Arts were invented, such as had been in estimation were also poor. And first to begin with Philosophy the flower of all knowledge, the Princes thereof were poor men. Socrates, Plato, Aristoteles, and Cleantes, who all night drawn water, and all day studied Philosophy But this is the less to be marveled at the Socrates (as Seneca saith) being in the market and sing a cloak to be sold, taking leave of his friends said: fain would I buy that cloak, if I had money wherewith to do it. The praise of his death and also all they that envy his glory do witness he was almost a beggar. Plato become rich by his second voyage into Sicilia, Aristoteles long time lived poor, and almost an old man was enriched by Alexander.  
I think it Needless to tell others as Homerus and Virgilius the Lanterns of Poetrye, the one a beggar, the other a poor man. The whole rout of grammarians and Orators were such kind of men, Pompilius, Andromicus, Orbilaus, Valerius, Cato, Laenius, julius Higinius. The Epistle of Plinius Caecelius reporteth that Quintilianus was meanelye furnished with wealth. Iwenalis' mocking Statius the Poet saith he begged.  Unless perhaps some tragedy, he hath in store to tell for hunger let him pine. 
But now a days that rich men can gain glory in schools I doubt not. Let us therefore talk of arms wherein they are no more happy then in learning: What say you to Paulus Aem●lius, who being dead had not left whereof to make his wife a dowrye. Also Marius and Sextorius were Romans of base condition, yet on the one depended the safety of Rome, on the other some while great peril. What riches had Camillus the terror of the war? Or Scipio Affricanus that for debt had lyen in prison, if Gracchus had not helped. Arator Cincinatus, Calatinus Fabritius that fought with Pirus, Valerius Publicola, Menenius Agrippa, Q. Aemilius, Aristides, Photion, Meltiades, Cimon, Spartacus, Viriatus, all the Duke's of Lacedemonia, and as chief of them Lisander were all called from base condition. And whom can you allege against these? the desperate Alexander or Caesar the subverter of his country, or rather Sylla with his proscriptions. There is no doubt therefore but that in the judgement of the discrete, poor men are to be preferred. But now a days through persuasion of parasites, princes do not train up Captains, but rather buy them. Men are not advanced for virtue but riches and parentage. Whereof it groweth that governors, magistrates and chiefetaynes, are not appointed for desert, but through favour of nobility. And though thereof they get no good, yet this commodity they gain, that through custom and the smallness of the number that is advanced, rich men only do possess all dignities. But counsellors cannot err? And would to God that Princes we no more deceived. For truly they do well in preferring nobility, yet therewithal to consider that those are worthiest honour, whom virtue commends. The one is sufferable, but the other intolerable: when neither virtue nor good parentage, but false flattery is the only way to advancement. And such kind of men commonly are void both of virtue, learning and honesty. But now I confess we have a little to far digressed from our purpose. For more speedy end of this Book let us consider what is the occasion of glory, seeing poor men in discipline of war, learning, and invention of arts, do gain reputation: whether rich men are admitted to glory in the arts themselves? when in deed they never knew them. But admit that riches are more precious than poverty? Alas what misery can come from the gods greater than the desire to have them: which the more we get, the more it increaseth. It is labour without end and not unlike the turning of Sisyphus stone. Who (as Poets fain) for reveling the secrets of heaven is forced to remain in hell, and there continually to carry a heavy stone to the top of a steep hill, which forthwith falls down, but he without ceasinge doth follow, and on his shoulders doth bring it up again: Even so to get riches is nothing else then to toil they body in continual travail, and exercise thy mind in innumerable cares. But admit thy luck be good: what happiness can it be in thy life if thou cannot use the wealth thou dost possess? as Horatius writeth.  
exceeding care of coin, doth mortal men beguile,  
and love of worldly pelf, all other joys exile.  
And if liberally and bountifully thou will use them, what a madness were that with so long labour to become rich, and so suddenly to consume all. The women called Danaides being condemned to hell for their detestable murder, do suffer there none other torment, then continually to draw water. And admit goods were with labour to be gotten? whether dost thou desire them for thy own use, or thy posterity? when in the mean time thou neglectest thy quiet, & pleasure of thy own life. Thou shortnest thy days, and hinder thy health. Some men I have seen live a nigardlye life, only to the end to make theymselues asumptuous tomb, and honourable burial. Which folly and superfluous care Socrates laughed to scorn, when lying at the point of death he refused a rich cloak which Apollodorus did offer unto him. For surely there is among mortal men no vainer care, than the pomp of funerals, which I think thou will confess and flee to the commodities of inheritance. Thou seekest to leave thy son rich, what heir can be better? yet in the mean space thou labourest, thou carest, thou watchest, thou hazardest infamy, thou offerest wrong, & chargest thy conscience, to th'end thy son may spend, consume, devout, & keep havoc. Whereby he becometh proud, slothful, mad, and in every respect for his riches the worse. But besides these evils (alas) how many enemies are got by seeking of riches? oftentimes also men do want a son, or having one, he proveth such and of such conditions, as they repent that ever they begotten him. And sometimes we see that great inheritance is cause of their destruction, which happeneth most often to the children of Princes, who committed to the government of others are by them bereft both of kingdom and life: as was Tryphon appointed to the tuition of Antiochus, by whom it was by practice reported, that the child was greatly diseased with the stone, and that he must in any wise for his only remedy be cut: which done Tryphon not passing the age of ten years, through the only grief of his wound, & not otherwise grieved dyed, Cicero in his Oration for Sextus & Roscius, doth show what discommodities his great riches did bring withal: & among the rest (though the greatest) he was accused of murder. But sing among men of mean possessions, we see these practices daily put in ure: it is no marvel to hear that fathers have spoiled their sons, sons have slain their fathers, and brothers have sought the life of brothers, only to inherit worldly kingdoms. So as the saying of the Poet is well verified.  That faith did never long in Prince's court abide. 
But to what end serveth the power of man's riches, yea though it be well got? what pleasure dost thou take to have about the number of servants and companions? what secret foes art thou forced to keep, changing liberty for ambition? For a rich man in deed is none other than a Peripatitian god, that is to say confined by laws: a servant, yea an improfitable servant. O foolish imagination of man, to yield himself to so many labours, to muse on so many cares, to attempt so many mischiefs, that loseth so many pleasant days, only to make his son rich. Not unlike the Moils which fat and fair, are without use of sense, constrained to serve in yokes, & obey the bit, yea sometimes do suffer injury of the poor flees. But the children of poor men being wise, virtuous and strong, have liberty to walk at will, disbordened of all kinds of care. Being attained to ripe years they hunt, they fish, they hawk, they play & wander where they think best. Is not this liberty to be preferred before K. Croesus' riches? But among such as have by inheritance come to great riches, the most of them have consumed all. Neither can I think the covetise fathers on their death beds, do feel greater tortorment, then to remember that those riches: which with long labour they have gotten, shallbe by their prodigal sons in short space consumed, on strumpets, dycinge, parasites, and flatterers of court. I myself have seen a man whose father and grandfather in fifty years had got to the value of a thousand pounds, all which he consumed in less than three years. The son of Ruinus having received from his father a rich inheritance, fell into such a fransye as he lost both life and goods. How many ways are laws offended? how many rebellions happen? how many treasons? whereinto such as live in mean fortune do seldom fall. Besides this, who hath not a greedy heir, a son, a brother, or a brother's son that will not with one farthing redeem thee? Yet such is the madness of men as with loss of their own quiet they labour to make them rich. Therefore seeing riches doth procure neither glory nor felicity to ourselves or our posterity: there is nothing worse thenne not having riches to desire them, or go about to get them. But seeing we● mean not to persuade any thing Rethoricallye, but rather according to the Philosophers examine whatsoever may on either side be objected: me thinks it may be said that every man seeketh riches, but no man wisheth for poverty. Which reason albeit by divers arguments may be refuted, and haply truly, yet in this work there is nothing more allowed of, then the simplicity of mind, so as reason should not proceed of will, but rather that Will should follow Reason. To return therefore to our purpose I say that whatsoever is by any creature required either for commodity or necessity, the same creatures do naturally desire them. In which desires brute beasts directed only by natural sense, do not transgress the law of necessity: But man having liberty of sense & reason to persuade with himself, doth eat, drink, & sleep, more than either commodity or necessity doth require. So as though eating, drinking & sleeping, be things natural, yet superfluously taken, do work effects contrary to nature. In like manner are riches to be desired, not in abundance, but so much as suffyceth to live: whatsoever is required more, is not only not good, but also contrary to nature. And how can that be good which is contrary to nature? This exceeding desire of riches doth not therefore proceed of imperfection of nature. All men naturally do desire riches, as meat or drink, not because excess of them is natural, but because in them somewhat is natural, that is to say, so much as sufficeth wherewith to live. Which sufficiently we get, either by industry, as those that are learned in arts: or by revenue as gentlemen: or by consent as friars: or by devotion of others as Courtiers & beggars: As therefore without eating & drinking we cannot live, so is it lawful to desire riches. For to have nothing, nor know which way to get, is contrary to nature. And yet as satiety & drunkenness be not only evil, but also unpleasant, so is also riches and authority. But notwithstanding it may be objected that those commodities which poor men are partakers of, as labour, exercise, industry, patience & abstinence, may be enjoyed by them that be rich: and the choice of both being in the rich man, he shoulld be the more happy. For if willingly we want pleasures, in wanting them is either none evil, or justly cannot so be called. Yet whosoever thus thinketh doth greatly err. Because a man being brought up in delicacy, his mind becometh effeminate, his body tender, and unfit to suffer travail. Nature accustomed to sundry meats, do make delicate digestion. And if any man so brought up do change his diet to poor man's fare, he shortly becometh diseased, full of obstructions, and subject to consumption. Or if they fall to travail, either by compulsion, or for ambition, they grow unhealthy, sick of agewes, and in short space die. If any of these fine eaters do apply themselves to earnest study, they commonly dye in youth: as did joannes Picus Mirandola. A thing impossible it is, that a man born to great riches should become in learning excellent: unless at the first he lived a poor life, or in his youth fallen into some frensye. But contrariwise in the praise of poverty it may be said as Dionysius said to Aristippus, the poor men did beg of the rich, seek their houses, and live of their lyberalitye. Yet if thou respect the necessity of things, it shall appear that the necessity of poor men is greater for the rich, than the necessity of the rich for the poor. The rich man needeth a Physician, a barber, a mulyte●● a ploughman, a cook: & which of them needeth a rich man? notwithstanding the ambitious minds of men do make such to seem to govern over poor men. Also the emulation in worldly glory, do make poor men seem to have more need of the rich, thenne the rich of them. Yet if we respected only necessity, then should the rich have more occasion to seek out the poor, than they to seek for them. Neither can any man doubt, but that rich men do daily for necessity use the industry of the poor: And if the rich man's goods be needful for the poor man's use, it is scarcely once in they care. Also the rich only for riches do gain reputation, and in that respect only thought meet for honour and authority. But far otherwise it is in the common weal of Venice, and was in Rome while it remained in glory: far otherwise it was in Lacedaemon, where poverty was accounted a praise. far otherwise in Athens, where Photion, Aristides, Cimon and Miltiades: continued long time in glory and authority. But in cities evil governed where might is held for law, virtue for simplicity, and riches for decree: rich men are preferred before the wise and virtuous. Neither do I think meet that any poor man (be he never so good) should desire authority. For as Socrates said, hast thou nothing whereof to repent thee? But if I would rehearse the discommodities of authority, I might easily prove that the felicity of poverty were a singular virtue. Yet mean I not to persuade the riches well used in a good common weal were hurtful: for that were to absurd. Hitherto by true (though subtle reasons) we have taught the discommodities which riches doth bring withal. But remembering that at the beginning I determined not to prove any thing by short and subtle arguments, I will proceed in plainer speech. And therefore I say that nature like unto fire issuing out of the ground, hath advanced all things some more and some less, and some most of all, and being at the hyest, vanisheth and decayeth away: so the race and dignity of man, being grown to the greatest honour & glory, a while staying there, doth decline, and at length is clearly quenched. For where is now any branch of Alexander, of Darius, Antiochus, Ptolomeus, David, Caesar, Antigonus, Maethridates: or any other of these ancient kings? who so attaineth to that high estate of glory, let him not forget himself, but say: Lo now the end of humane glory is at hand. Then who forcasteth not what cares and sorrow are likely to follow? what say you to Charles the fift, though he governed mightily & happily from Ethiopia Hispania and Italia, to the confynes of Dalmatia and other Nations unknown, (wherein he showed more virtue than might be hoped for in any man) in consulting daily how to govern so many nations, in travaylinge to hold them in obedience, what man would say he was happy? when sometimes he remembered how Solimanus did threaten the confines of the Empire, sometimes he museth how the Islands of Beleares & the kingdom of Spain were perturbed. Some times he doubted the inconstancy of the Italian Princes. Sometimes he feared the weakness of Cycillia and Pulia, against the Turks. Sometimes he bethought him of the Princes of Germanye, and how his navy sent to see was tossed with Neptune's ire: Some fled to Hongaria, and some to Illerico: And will you call this man most happy? whom so great cares, and so many fears did daily torment? Surely for my part I wish myself rather a Religious man of Carthusia, though their liberty doth not far differ from prisoners. If then Charles being so great and mighty a Prince was always accompanied with cares, and so far from felicity: will't thou say that France's the French king might be called happy, or rather Solymanus? which of them lived not in fear? which of them tasted not of evil fortune? And though perhaps till this day they never felt any thing greatly evil, yet by ensample of others have they feared the worst.  
Polycrates that in his whole life never feeled any misfortune, before he died, by the Persian King was brought to the gallows and hanged. Darius' the King (whose Empire was thought equal to Gods) before death was deprived, and lived in misery. Look upon Syphax, Perseus, Mithridates, Pyrrhus and Cambyses. To great a folly it were to number all Kings whom Fortune hath laughed to scorn.  
In our age we have seen the subversion of four kingdoms, Pannonia, Egipte, Gallia Sicalpania, and Pulia. Such is the alteration of times, that Princes are constrained to become either infortunate, or miserable, in keeping their Kingdoms they live in misery, infortunate if they leave them.  
O Lord how lively did Lucanus describe the life of Kings saying.  
O safe estate of life,  
The pleasant days which poor men pass, a bliss above the rest,  
to Gods almost unknown.  
But thou not beholding what is with in Princes, like unto men that gaze upon the outward pictures and monuments of Tombs, dost judge them only happy, who in deed of all other mortal creatures are most unhappy. This must also be considered when thou complainest only of poverty, how many there are so unhappy, as in respect to them, thou mayest be accounted happy. How many be sick? how many deaf? how many blind? how many in prison? how many in exile? how many condemned? how many enforced to adventure their lives? then all which no doubt thou art more happy. Besides all this, if thou complain only of poverty (unless thou would become a king) there is no cause to complain. Behold how many do live miserably in Cities: how many beg in the Subberbes: how many in villages do pass their lives almost without any thing, yet burdened with children and family. And nevertheless constrained to pay tribute of the little, which with extreme labour they have earned. But (alas poor Christian people) now am I fallen into that speech which never erst I thought. So as in seeking to acquit others of care, I am myself cast there into. But dost thou desire to understand plainly that in riches is no felicity? then behold those people which inhabit the country, and glory in their small riches, thinckinge themselves happy, because they see none of their neighbours to possess more than themselves, who are not rich. But if the self same men do resort to the City, where they see others that for riches do excel them, than they lament, complain and account themselves poor. But is this poverty? surely no: nay rather may be called envy. Who is he that possesseth a thousand. Crowns, that may justly be called poor? and dwelling in the country with that wealth, will not account himself a Prince? yet if he happeneth to come to the Court, where no man almost hath five hundredth Crowns, forthwith he believeth and calleth himself poor. But if it should come to pass (as it did in the time of Noie) that all money, provision, cattle, and other commodities were drowned with water, I think then that no man would persuade himself to be injured by poverty. How is it then, that now having somewhat thou complainest? which declareth plainly, that no poverty but envy doth molest thee▪ And what can be worse than this? why dost thou not desire the treasures of Kings and the riches of India? unless it be in respect they are far from thee▪ But how many Countries and people hath poverty preserved and governed, as Sythia, Asia, the Assyrians, the Medians and Parthians. Also Alexander possessing nothing but bodies and weapon, conquered all Asia. Likewise the poor common weal of Rome, subdued the proud Frenchmen, the valiant Italians, the pitiful Grecians, the rich Asia, the crafty Carthaginenses, and the disdainful jews. All which was done by poverty. The Persians', the Perthians and Germaynes, being like unto the poor Romans, did in despite of their power defend & keep their liberty. But so sun as Sylla grew to greatness, & by him riches set in reputation, like unto ice against the Sun, all liberty and glory decayed away. Then began sedition, civil wars, with slaughter of familiars and friends. So as in short space through envy of barbarous nations, that whole empire came to utter destruction. Neither do I think that private riches be better or more profitable, for by them oftentimes men become ambitious, slothful and full of cares, which the Poet pleasantly describeth in Midas, when he had obtained of Bacchus that all he touched should be gold. saying.  
Amazed at this mischief new, now rich and yet in woe,  
His wished wealth lo now he loathes, that erst he loved so,  
No store can hunger staunch, dry thirst his throat torments,  
Thus worthily amids his gold, his former wish repentes.  
So great is the misery of rich men, that amids the desire of riches they perish. There is nothing contenting to the rich man, but that which accordeth with his covetise mind. For he to increase his riches hazardeth his soul, his reputation & friends. Who can think that either life or fame is got by riches, and for the most part riches do not long remain with any man, and never descend to the third degree? And seldom shalt thou see the grandchylde of a rich man, die in abundance. I marvel not therefore why so many worthy men disdained to become rich. And first of all (omitting all Christians) let us begin at Crates the Theban, who the more fitly to study philosophy, sold his goods & cast the money into the sea. Moore discreetly did Apollonius & Tyanius, who selling their goods which were in deed great, did give the same to their Citizens, reserving to themselves nothing at all. Zeno Citticus being rich, was impoveryshed by shypwrak, & afterwards studying Philosophy, said that when his ship perished his voyage was most fortunate. But Diogenes deserved double glory because he did not only patiently suffer poverty, but also therein lived a glorious life. For being asked by Alexander what he wanted, answered nothing: though by bounty of that noble king, he might have received great riches. Therefore Alexander was wont to say, if I were not Alexander, them would I be Diogenes. So well did this noble king know the felicity that grew upon the disdain of riches. Likewise Photion after he had received one hundred talentes, would nevermore be relieved by Alexander, though in deed▪ he were so poor as for want of a servant, was forced himself to draw the water wherein he washed. Socrates refused the great rewards of Alcibiades. And Artaxersis seeking the friendship of Hipocrates and Epaminundas, the one for his excellency in Physic, that other for his company, did present them with great gifts: and yet by that mean could not win them. For the liberality of the king, did not syrmount the disdain they had of riches. The treasure of Pyrrhus could not corrupt the fidelity of Fabritius, who preferred honest poverty before the riches of kings. Such was the nobility of these man's minds (though for want of Christianity not to be numbered among others) yet in respect of generosity, meet examples for our consolation. Do not therefore lament for thy poverty, 〈◊〉 call to mind that saying of Plato. Who so would become rich, must leave the desire of riches.  
A man increaseth his riches, by the decay of others, and so a rich man is either wicked or the heir of one that was wicked, as S. Hierome writeth.  
The next calamity to poverty, is exile. Wherein assuredly it is imagination only that maketh a man miserable. For who so marketh the lives of many, shall find that they have spent some part of their lives in strange Countries, as Plato, Berosius, Galenus and Dioscorides. Some others their whole lives, as Zeno, Citticus & Crautor, who thought their foreign habitation pleasant, because it was voluntary. The like desire had a Citizen of ours: he in threescore years not further travailed than the Subberbes of the Town, was for a miracle showed to the Prince, who did command him that never after he should pass those bounds. The poor old man misliking this commandment, desired leave to travail in his age, which in youth he had forgotten to do: Which suit being denied, the selye old fellow of very sorrow fell sick & dyed. What can be greater folly then to neglect that is good, or wish that is evil. And surely travail cannot be evil which so many princes, kings & Emperors have taken in hand. Who will then lament there of, when it is perforce. For what so ever is well done though by enforcement, yet is it not evil. But call to thy consideration how many commodities cometh of travail. As experience of foreign custom's knowledge to eschew misadventures, sight of Cities, Seas, Mountains, Rivers, woods, variety of airs, and the nature of sundry living Creatures. Also the practice of arts, & sciences, the difference of man's wits with many other miracles by travail are daily learned. So as I nothing marvel at divers excellent Philosophers that consumed their lives in continual travail. And among the rest I call to mind the great Alexander that travailed more to excel Traianus who envied his glory, then for the desire he had to conquer the whole world or keep the same in subjection. Antonius, as he was soft of spirit, so did he travail countries rather for experience, than for desire to conquer. But to return to private people. I say that all such as have invented any excellent knowledge, were those that lived in travalye Homer commended his friend Vlixes for nothing more, then for having travailed sundry countries. And have not all excellent men been driven to exile? Demosthenes, Cicero, Aristides, Thusidides, The mistocles, Alcibiades Codrus, Theseus, Eumolpus, Trax, Aristoteles, Camillus, Corialanus, Marius, Datanus, Trisibulus, Dion, Hannibal, Demetrius Phalerius. And some other that willingly banished themselves as Conon the Athenian into Cyprus. Iphicartes into Thracia, Chares into Bigeo, Timotheus into Lesbian, Zenephon in to Eleus. What needs more words? Say then as Socrates said that the whoole world, is a wise man's country, and a wise man while he is in the world is never from his country, and not to be in the world cannot be. It is the part of every wise man to eschew death, imprisonment, & exile and yet of these three, is not exile the lest?  
And if death be not evil, what evil can it be to lack our country? When it was told Diogenes that the Synopenses had condemned him to exile, he answered saying, even so do I condemn them to dwell for ever in Pontus, & within the confines of Euxinus. Did not Camillus of such hard fortune receive the occasion of his noble victory.  
And where were the books of wise men made more often then in banishment? ovidius Naso being in exile written his books De tristibus, De ponto, in Ibin Triumphus Caesaris and De piscibus. So as it seemeth that in eight years exile, he performed more than in those fifty and four, which before he had lived in Rome. Plato written the greatest part of his books, while he lived from his own country: For when Socrates died, he was about the age of twenty and seven years. Truly whosoever liveth in his own natural country an industrious life, doth gain great envy, and the more if he be basely born. Where was Chryste worse entreated then in Nazereth being there born, yet hated, disdained, afflicted, and at length in jerusalem slain. So it seemeth true and that no man can be a Prophet in his own country.  
Thus we see that exile is not only good, but also glorious, chiefly to a wise and learned man. Neither aught any to mislike of that which hath forthered many. Would God all men known how profitable a thing it is to travail, and chiefly for such as devil in those countries where riches do rule as Law, power take place of Order, or Tyranny in any sort is put in practise.  
Wherefore I say that exile is neither evil nor to be numbered among those things which have of evil any resemblance. But exile doth not so much offend these, as injuries do torment others, affirming with the Lacedæmonians, that who so receiveth one injury doth occasion an other, But who ever thinketh injuries aught to be revenged doth greatly err. For in so doing no end of iniuryinge can be taken, when one injury revengeth another. Who so offereth the first must he not revenge the second? He therefore doth most well, that offereth the first injury, and next to him, he that seeketh revenge, deserveth blame, because the third injury, of necessity must follow.  
And how can he patiently suffer wrong, that vnprouoked willingly offered the first injury. What can therefore be bet, then to refrain from doing injuries, and call to memory the sayings of Plato, that a wise man, dyfferethe as far from a common person, as a common person from a child.  
For children do revenge every injury yea though against the injurious will it be offered, most like unto Beasts, upon whose tails if (though unwares thou tread) suddenly they bite without considering whether willingly thou did it or not. But far otherwise ought men to revenge those injuries which willingly are offered. If then a wise man do not revenge those wrongs which by mishap do happen unto him: is he not therein more worthy than the common person void of all wisdom? how much were it better to observe that divine precept. Michi vindictam et ego retribuam.  
That wise men have so done, no man doubteth. Amongs whom we read that Socrates being strike upon the Shynnes and advised by his friends to seek revenge answered. If an ass have strike me shall I therefore be so foolish as to call him in question? And when Xantippe his wife in a rage took his cloak from his shoulders, his friends perswadinge him to revenge he said, this is done only to occasion you to look upon us, & say here is Xantippe and here is Socrates.  
Diogenes receiving a blow said. Nesciebam quando michi cum galea è domo sit pro deundum. Crates also being stricken on the face by Nicodromo Citaredo, made none other revenge, but written Nicodromo his name upon the place he was strike, and in that sort showed to the hole city the injury offered unto him: because to offer injury without cause is a greater reproach, then to receive it. The one by offering wrong showeth himself plainly wicked, & an evylle man, the other is guilty of nothing mysdone. When it was told to Antistines that Plato had spoken evil of him he made this answer.  
It is the part of a prince to hear evil when he doth best. But Plato being told that Zenocrates, did slander him, said first, he could not believe it: and after better proof answered saying. I can not think he would have thus spoken without cause. What could have been said more wisely or more safely. A christian king strike on the right cheek, aught to turn the left. And S. Paul saith, that if thou do good, to those that speak evil of thee: thou heapest burning coals upon their heads. There is nothing more wicked than ingratitude, nor more cruel then to oppress innocentes: either of which faults he committeth that offereth injury to his benefactors. Let us now follow the law of Nature, and consider when any injury is offered, whether safely, or with peril the came may be done.  
For what can be more foolish than to seek revenge, when safely it can not be performed.  
So did Pausanias revenge himself upon Philippus, but for his labour was hanged. So did Andreas Lampugnanus wreak his ire upon Galeazeus Sforza: but thereby he wrought the destruction of himself his son, & his brother, besides many discomodities of his country. But how many have been punished & put to death, before they, had performed their intent to revenge? as were those that conspired the murder of Phaleris, & that wrought treason against Nero. The multitude of ensamples do make me leave them untouched. Who doth therefore being never so simple commend the peril that revenge bringeth? which though performed doth more hinder thee. then him to whom it is offered, and sometime before performance doth undo both the and thy Is then revenge good when safely it may be executed? Surely at no time. Because the pleasure of revenge is when there in a man may declare courage and magnanimity of mind. And as the Poet saith. Show not thy force on yeldinge foes, let proud men be oppressed. Me thinks therefore that Aristides deserved praise For when Cleomines had said a man must do good to friends, and evil to Foes: Aristides turned the words, saying. A man must do good to his friends and seek the reconciliation of his foes. The glory got by forgiving of foes, whom thou may oppress is greater, than the pleasure of revenge. The man that doth good for evil is like unto God. For he that defendeth and doth well to all men doth most nearelye follow God. And how great a sign of noble mind it is to forbear revenge the ancient examples do bear witness, wherein julius Caesar gained so great praise, as no man more. He having overthrown Pompeius and his army Commanded that none should be hurt that were not present in the field against him.  
He spared M, Mercellus his mortal enemy. He set at liberty Petreius the chieftain of his foes. Afranius, Vero, Korfinius, L. Lentulus, L. Domitius. He took mercy upon the Son of Cato a notable Enemy. He touched not Sextus Pompeius. the younger Son of the great Pompeius, at whose death he weeped  
He pardoned Ligarius at the suit of his Friends and brethren, though he were an apparaunte offender, and many ways guilty. He spared Cicero and freely pardoned all other Princes that were in the battle Pharsalica. He set up the Pictures of Pompeius and finally gave so many signs and Monuments of mercy as Cicero both before the victory, and after his death affirmed his Quarrel the better: saying that Pompeius' defendoure of his country might more justly be condemned for his cruelty to Enemies, than Caesar in respect of the great Mercy he used. In like manner did Octavius his successor proceed.  
For when Livius the Historiographer had percyally written against him, he used none other Revenge but called him a Pompeian, Likewise when Asinius Pollio, had in his Book praised Cassius Brutus, Affranius and Scipio, he sought no revenge against him. Besides all this, he received into his House Tymagines who in writing had defamed Octavius, Livia and her daughter. For all which doing he used none other Revenge then these words. Fruere mihi Pollio fruere.  
But behold how nobly Andrianus Caesar did mytigate his ire? He being made Emperor and meeting his Enemy said. Thou hast escaped. declaring that as befoore he wanted power to be Revenged, so now in authority he would want will, and therefore did acquit him of fear It is also to be considered that there is nothing that increaseth authority more than to forgive.  
And therefore PELECRUS the Lacedaemonian, Complayninge to his Brother that he was not so Beloved among the Cyttyzens as he was: he answered Pelecrus, saying the cause thereof is that thou can not suffer injuries. It is likewise greatly to be noted that who so ever hath aspired to authority or greatness, they have born with many injuries, because they the revenge might be resembled to the fable of Praxitelis. Who being (as men say) of Nature angry, and beholding himself in a glass, espied there a visage evil favoured and deformed: and therewithal more moved, increased his choleric & angry countenance which plainly appeared within the glass, but in the end he broke the glass, in every piece where of he found a face much deformed. Whereby Praxitelis had experience that in seeking to revenge himself of one discontentation, he occasioned many: Even so if thou murder one man, thou makest his friends and family all thy enemies. Thus in seeking to acquit thyself of one foe thou gettest many, yea sometimes for so doing thy name groweth odious, and thou condemned for an evil man. finally who so is accustomed to revenge, mindeth none other thing, which reason and experience doth well declare. Alexander the great (in whose chamber while he lived, good fortune slept) knowing the unfriendly hearts of the Athenienses and other people of Grecia, who under the ensign of Darius made war against him, did notwithstanding seek any revenge: which greatness of mind, Darius, & other understanding, of enemies they become subjects and faithful friends. But if contrariwise he had used revenge, the whoole number of the Graecian youth yea all India and Peloponesso had revolted and been destroyed: so as of Alexander he had in short space become a poor obscure Prince. far unlike to him did king Pirrus proceed, who being a famous Capitayne, yet following Revenge, left his doings imperfyte and died in mysecye. JULIUS CAESAR in private life and towards reconciliation to his Enemies, being greatly slandered by Caius calvus and Catullus did, notwithstanding write first unto calvus and pardonned Catullus.  
What greater Enemy had he then Clodius that defiled the honour of wedlock? Being apprehended he would not only not condemn him, but also save him from perjury. But Marius did far otherwise, he thyrstinge for the blood of enemies and following Revenge had evil end, and was the destruction of himself and all his.  
What hath been seen more worthily done then that act of Fabius? who contrary to all right, was forced by the people to receive Minutius master of his horse, as his companion in the empire, who doing divers things contrary to Fabius' desygne, did (notwithstanding forgetting the injury) join with Minutius against Hannibal, and to save him from peril used all care & cunning, which afterwards wrought such effect as the people confessed how unworthelye they had abled Minutius to be his equal, which Minutius also upon his knees confirmed praying Fabius to take into his hands the hole authority and Empire. Such be the rewards of noble minds, that can forget all injuries. So dydd not Cicero when with staunderous speech he persecuted Clodius, but for so doing was himself bannyshed. And in seeking to banish Antonius out of the common wealth, he there by hindered himself his friends, his country, and all good men.  
But is it not a thing worthy to be noted, that we disdain the injuries of brute beasts, and revenge the wrongs offered by men? Also we patiently suffer the displeasure of time, and can not beat, the offences of men? But in the one Ambition wanteth: in the other is mean to Revenge which I grant: and yet in the Injuries of men, it is to be considered, that man is, will thou, Nill thou, thy Companion in life: And many times (though thou mark it not) by the provoked.  
What doth it then move thee to suffer injury? Is it Harm or Loss, by revenge it cannot be recovered. If Harm, thou seemest to Sorrow that thou art honest, or that thou would be so thought. Seeing it is the property of an evil man to do injury: & the property of a good man to disdain it. Also when any man doth slander thee, disdain thee, strike thee, or hurt thee, consider whether the same be wyllinglie done or not? Be: cause an unwilling offence may hurt, and yet be none Injury at all. Croesus' was commended for pardoning Adrastus when he had killed his son▪ because Adrastus meaning was to have shot at the Boar, and not to have slain the Child. But if wyllinglye the offence be offered, examine thyself if thou have geeven cause, for than is it none injury, but deserved punishment.  
And if thine enemy hath hurt thee, think with thyself whether thou would have done the like to him if thou might, for than it was none Injury but contention.  
The end of all strife is when the one yieldeth. And therefore a boy of Lacedaemon being deadly wounded and Comforted by his Friends, saying that or long they would revenge the injury done unto him, aunswearede, that in no wise they should so do, because the hurt he received. he intended to his Enemy, if his intent had taken place.  
But let thy mind be void of evil, free from hate and displeasure, then consider the quality of the offence and the state of the offender, whether it be so small as is not to be regarded, or the man so mad or vile as is to be disdained: because to be revenged upon any such Injurious occasions, or men, is both dishonourable and wicked. But admit the offence be not such, dost thou not remember that it is the property of a good man patiently to suffer injuries, not for fear, but through Fortitude. So Photion being by the Athenienses, condemned to death, his Friends asking what he would have said to his son? answered, tell him that in any wise he forget this injury here offered unto me. Aristides also unjustly remaining in exile, prayed the Gods that the Athenienses might be so happy as never after to think upon him. Also call to thy consideration that against all Injuries three remedies there are, that is to say, Revenge, Oblyvion, and disdain.  
Of which three who doubteth but disdain, is both the best, and most assured? Because disdain through the courage of mind wherewith it is accompanied, is not like unto oblivion joined with reproach, neither perilous in respect of new injuries, as is a revenge, which bringeth therewith boothe peril and repentance, and in the mean time, the desire of offending doth not molest thee but art there in most like unto God. For such as contemn injuries are most happy and lykeste to God, and such men they are, or must be that would become happy. For seeing no man liveth free from injuries, and the greater in authority he be, the more followed with slander evil report, & injury, it is expedient that every man do determine himself to bear them.  
Neither is it lawful for any mortal man to use revenge. Who hath been more slandered than kings, and emperors, whose power is greatest?  
Who, or what is of greater force than God and Nature? and yet they delight not in Revenge. Shall man then be like unto Bears, pursuing the Bees, seek for revenge? God forbid. For although we might in life revenge all Injuries: what good were that after Death, or what care should we then have of injuries? It is all one whether with sufferance of Injury, or not after Death we be remembered. Who so therefore living seemed to contemn injuries, by death he is free from the peril which Revenge might cast him in to. Wherefore there is nothing better than an invysyble mind, which like unto a man placed on the top of an high Tower, in disdain casting down stones upon the heads of his Enemies, doth make light of all Injuries (and as it were) disdain them. For as women, for lack of magnanimity can not bear offences: so men (as they are men) may take what Revenge they think best Then make thy choice which of them thou wilt be like, But happily thou will't say some worthy men have been revenged. For Caesar commanded Faustus Silla and Affranius, to be slain.  
Likewise Antonius revenged himself upon Cicero and Alexander & upon Calistines, carrying him abroad when his Eyes were put out, and in the end shut him up into a cave with a Dog. But alas (good man) this was no Revenge, though some say that Antonius being of Mind more abject than a Woman did like unto his other doings commit this act, and therefore had an end answerable to his deserving. But as for the other they minded nothing less than Revenge, for the respect of their doings was security, which in like case by our Laws is sufferable. For if Afframus had got liberty, he would neither have kept Promise nor lived in quiet, Also Faustus Silla, was by Law guilty. Pompeius' friend and for his father's Tyranny odious to the people of Rome.  
So as being a necessary Friend for Pompeius, he could not have lived in quiet. But if he had, for the Malice born to his Father been slain, the same should rather have been done upon Cato, who (as was well known) after that Caesar conquered the Germans, did persuade the Senate to have him delivered into the Enemy's Hands, because he had fought contrary to the truce taken. But Sylla when easily he might have slain him, he would not.  
So Alexander being settled in his Empire among the barbarous People, did not condemn Calistines, for Malice, but Security because through his words he could hardly keep the Persians'. And the Macedonians began to disdain him.  
Full well knew Antonius that if Cicero had escaped, he would never have lived in quiet, because being all ready once Pardoned, he notwithstanding did follow him with Hate unreconsiliable, and if the Death of CICERO had been sought for Revenge, either a live he might have been tormented and kept, or else executed with more cruelty. It cometh also to mind, that Injuries have not a little proffyted Some men and therefore ovidius saith.  A wrong somewhiles we see: doth help the wronged wight. 
It happeneth oft times that we take Compassion of them we love not: either for the malice we bear them that offered the Injury, or through belief that the Injured is condemned, rather by power of his Enemy then his own offence. And by such means it is well known that many have escaped great peril.  
Among which number Valerius Maximus tellethe how Gabinius through the Slander of Sisenna, and Flavius, for the Injury of Valerius were delivered, and Cotta only for suspicion of wrong found the same favour. In which cases if none injury had been, no hope had remained. It is also to be considered, that the occasions of slanders are so common, as nothing more. The People do backebyte the learned, the Learned disdain the unlearned, the just do condemn the wicked, the Wicked do laugh to Scorn those that be good, the Mighty do Envy the Mighty, against whom they provoke Servants and Subjects by slanderous Speech, robbery, Practice, and untrue dealing. Were it not better with noble mind to disdain all Injuries, than thus continually to live tormented in mind. Lucius Murena was praised, because he took Cato under his Gown and saved him from Death, that not long before had accused him.  
Publius Pulcher being by the three Lentuli accused of incest did notwithstanding afterwards save one of them from peril. Marcellus being heinously accused by the Siculi did not only forgive them, but also received them into his own tuition. So Menedemus bestowed many benefits upon Alexinus of whom he had been great lie injured. How wisely said S. Gregorius, that who so can not bear injury, doth show by his impatience that he is not good. The king Archelaus, when upon a time one cast water upon him, being persuaded by his friends to revenge: answered, saying, I know he would not have cast it upon me, but some other. By which answer he saved the offender from hurt, & himself from the importunity of his friends.  
A notable example remaineth in memory of the servant of Antius Restio, who being long time kept in prison, and by his masters commandment oft times burned with hot irons, yet afterwards following him in the triumph triumuiral did notwithstanding all their injuries save himself from peril, when commodiously he might have been revenged & also rewarded. Such wisdom hath not only been performed by private men, but also by hole Cities. For Dionysius the younger both at the plays of Corinthus and also before he was sent into exile might have been by them of Syracuse slain, whom befoore time he had most Tyrannouslye used. But they with disdain did let him pass. Likewise did the Romans, when Silla had resigned the office of Dictator, and lived in private state: notwithstanding he had grievously offended the people, yet did they suffer him to pass without hurt, thinking that revenge is to be used upon mighty men, & those that bear rule, & upon those that were by law or assent dismounted from authority courteously & compassionately to entreat them, was a sign of a good man.  
Therefore there is no greater argument of felicity, no readier way to glory, nor better mean to quiet, then to disdain injuries.  
Behold the dogs which be of many other beasts the most improfytable, yet are much more made of then either Oxen or Horse, only because they suffer all injuries their masters do offer unto them.  
If thou Strike them, they fawn. If thou drive them away from thee, they return unto thee: if thou chide them they flatter. finally he is much worse than any beast, that cannot disdain injuries. Not brutish beast is mindful of offence done unto him. Therefore that man that seeketh revenge is not wise, loved of God, nor long happy. If thou suffer a while thou shalt see thy wrongs revenged by nature, by chance, or by some other mean. And him whom with extreme care, travail, and hazard of thyself thou sought to offend, shallbe without thine evil or misery destroyed. The lives of all evil men that do perturb the quiet of the good, are short: or at lest wise that happiness of small continuance. If therefore forbearing injury no man is miserable, then is it better for all men whether they can or not, not to be revenged: because it is manifest that before revenge of injury no man is in misery. The offence that men in these days do think the greatest, is the infidelity of wives. But in so dishonest a matter not to trouble the ears of good men I mean nothing to speak, notwithstanding I call to remembrance that Pompeius for adultery cast of his wife Metia, and for the like fault did P. Caesar put away Pompeia, both excellent men, and among the Romans inferior to none for authority, desert & wisdom. All which notwithstanding either the importunacy● of adulterous, or the wantonness of women, did make their beds defiled. Septimius Severus, and Antonius the Philosopher had dishonest wives, yet canst thou not find any better, or more worthy men in that common weal When a friend of Antonius did wish him to put away his dishonest wife, he answered saying: even so I may do and therewithal lose her dowrye: which dowyre was the Roman Empire, because Faustina was daughter of Pius Antonius the Emperor. Therefore though Antonius wittingly, or Severus unwittingly kept their advoulterous wives, I cannot think it was prejudicial to their reputation, virtue or felicity. Neither do thou think that this blot doth blemish the reputation of common people more than these most noble personages: for sing the fault is in others, the dishonour cannot appertain unto thee. Therefore a Citizen of Sparta finding an adulterer a bed with his evil favoured wife said, alas unhappy man what necessity hath driven the to do this deed? To cruel it were to impute that to thy own folly, which by no policy can be prevented, as though thy virtue & estimation were stained by the default of another. Yet now a days this reproach is cast upon the man. So did not Salethus Prince of Crotona, who made an ordinance more hard than the Law julia, which was that cuckold makers should be burned quick. Supposing that none offence was more wicked. Yet when afterwards he himself had defiled his brother's wife and was taken, he made so wise an Oration, as he people were content to punish his offence with exile only. notwithstanding, knowing the greatness of the fault, willingly he cast himself into the fire, and was burned. Thus we find he desired not pardon (though his words were to such effect) but rather sought to show that none offence could be so great but might deserve to be pardoned. Therefore this injury cometh not of the wives default, but the imperfection of time: wherein we being uxorious, the reproach is cast upon men, & the perjury upon God: neither shall this plague cease till that (as men say) Polipus have eaten out himself, & the power of Mahumet hath stayed their slander.  
But of injuries we have now enough said, let us therefore speak of other calamities, among which imprisonment seemeth the chief.  
In prison is darkness, uncleanness, lack of company, fetters, and finally (as it seemeth) all sorts of misery: which provoked Boetius to cry out saying.  
You mourning Muses reach, whereof I should endight,  
And bathe▪ my face in bitter tears, wherewith my woes I wright.  
Alas (good friend) what is this life other than an imprisonment of mind, much worse than that of the body, & would God this quiet might chance to me, which so many worthy men have desired. Amongst whom Demostenes that excellent Orator to the end he might be enforced to keep the house, cut of the one side of his beard. Where is truer contemplation then in solitary life? what place is more fit for study, then where is quietness? neither did Boetius writ any work better, then that he invented in prison, did not Aesopus long time lurk within a tub? & Democritus willingly inhabit the dens of dead men? studying & writing? And the more their eyes were darckened the more their minds were lightened, Plato telleth that Anaxagoras while he remained in prison written the book De Circuli quadratura, To whom could imprisonment be more grievous, then to Socrates when the end was death, the time long and incertain? yet nevertheless he slept sweetly, studied philosophy, and written Verses. So as Socrates gave more light to the prison, than the prison gave darkness to Socrates. PAULUS the Doctoure of the world sent the greater part of his epistles from prison, as to the Ephesians, to Timothe and Philemon. For like reason is servitude patiently to be born, saying nature hath not more liberally bestowed her gifts on the master, than the servant: They are equally wise, equally beautiful, equally healthful, and finally in body & mind therein excels his servant. And for quietness of mind the servant hath the advantage. For he seeketh only to content one, which is his master, for which doing he is provided for, of meat, drink, apparel, and all other necessaries. But a master must not only be careful of himself, but also of others. Every loss is hindrance to the master, but to the servant not so. Therefore if it were lawful, more men would commit themselves to servitude, them desire to become free. Who so doth consider well, shall see, that when we think ourselves most free, we serve masters more severe: as Princes, God, necessities, laws, and pleasure, which be also common to servants, yet there withal they have food, apparel, and houses, which the masters have not. It is the less marvel why some bondmen have refused to be made free, as did Melissus a Grammarian of Spoleta.  
Surely it is a goodly pleasure to eat at other man's tables. Would God it were as honest. And dost thou think the favourites of Princes are other than servants whom ambition hath deceived? besides which, their estate is more perilous and more unhappy. Neither is servitude any hindrance to glory, for Plato, Xenocrates, Calcedonius, Diogenes, Phedrus, Epitetus, and Esopus the fabler, did all live in servitude. Besides them divers grammarians, Sibonius, Aphroditius, Taberius, Crotes, Antonius Gnipho, Phosius the excellent player, and Manlius in astronomy, a singular Poet. What should I say of riches? and shall I again recite tho●e monsters of the Roman pleasure Drusilanus and Menecrates, yea the seats of Kings have been by bondmen possessed. Tullius' one of the ancient kings, was a bondman. And so was Oedipus and other. The kings of Syria and Palestina in our age choose out of this sort of men. But let riches rule and bear the sway, yet let us recite known examples of many such as servitude and the patronage of a good master have advanced, for the virtue of the master dependeth much upon the wisdom of the servant. And some servants have not only gained liberty, but also deserved to become heirs to their masters. Neither shalt thou find upon the ancient monuments, more records of love of wives, children, and brothers, than ensamples of servants devotion towards masters, and masters towards them.  
The like persuasion may make for thy comfort, if thou live without glory: which kind of life is the more tolerable if thou remain in servitude, whereinto Ulysses (as Plato saith) being weary of his former life did willingly cast himself. There is no happiness that can hap to man greater, than either not to desire glory, or not to have it. Who so doth the one, liveth in great quietness of mind, the other enjoyeth great security. For is the glory of this world other than a sweet poison for men? whereof if thou taste, thou becomest blind & senseless. Hereupon groweth vain labour, peril & care, which way to keep & get friends, authority & riches. Envy also like unto a shadow inseparable doth follow glory, which in a moment fadeth away, and the rest of thy life the more unpleasant. How many worthy men have given the glory of their own deserts to others? Socrates being victorious in battle, gave all the honour praise and reward to Alchibiades. But who can therein excel Plato? he commended for his learning, did yield all the praise to those that had taught him: as Socrates, Tymeus, and Permenides. Surely there is no greater glory than the contempt of honour. Who so is not ambitious getteth no glory: why seekest thou that, y● to have thou aught not? if thou be ambitious, thou accusest thyself: and yet ambition were no vice, if glory might lawfully be desired. I cannot recite the number of all such as have honoured virtue, and yet contemned the praise. And yet in deed even at this day also, who so living virtuously doth lurk, may be called good & happy. What doth the ambitious man gain other then set to sale all▪ his imperfections. And whoso ever doth mark it well, shall find that every man hath more defects, than customs worthy commendation. To prevent the peril of this condemnation there is no way so sure as to lurk and live unknown.  
The like commodity bringeth ignorance whereof notwithstanding many do complain. Who so seeketh knowledge, finds care and labour, as the Prophet saith. I tell not that Paul hath preached, that this worldly wisdom is enemy to God. Let us consider what is commonly gained by learning, profit is disdained, the soul hazarded, the body consumed, thy children & substance neglected. The learned do get great envy & shorteneth his life, and all for knowledge, or rather to be thought to know. For art thou more wise than Socrates, Plato, or Aristoteles? Socrates did glory that he knew nothing. Plato doubted of many things. Aristotiles' speaketh so obscurely, as one would think he knew little. Alas how many have been hindered with being thought learned? Among the rest, the small knowledge of mine, have been to my disadvantage, for thereby I have been oftentimes rejected, evil handled & oppressed, and would God that either I had been such a one as they thought me, or that they had thought me such a one as in deed I was. Hereof grew against me so many undeserved evil reports, all which I disdained, persuading myself that one man excelled an other, in that he was better. Like unto all other things doth that opinion of learning breed slander & divers other inconvenients: as we see by Alexander, Achillino, Tiberio of Bononia, Petrus Leo, & Marcus Antonius of Verona. For Achillinus was poisoned, Petrus Leo cast headlong into a pond. Tiberius & Antonius occasioned to shorten their own lives. So we find that this wisdom is accompanied with many discommodities. How much better had it been for these learned men to have lived by some craft or industry? what man have thou known both learned and fortunate, yea whom hath not learning hindered? Socrates was slain, Anaxagoras kept in prison. Plato sold, and put in peril of his head, Aristotiles sent into exile, where either willingly or not greatly against his will he died. Demetrius Phalerius banished and condemned. Demostenes poisoned himself, Easimes sent to exile, and so was Solon. Lycurgus deprived of his eyes, and after banished with many perils of life. joannes Scotus stabbed in with daggers by the hands of his companions, Cicero betrayed and slain, Varro confined, and who was not molested and disdained? Budeus a notable man of our age, did also justly complain, what and how many persecutions did Erasmus suffer? were the Prophets and wise men in the law of Moses more happy? surely no. The cause is learning, which who so hath not, let him not desire it: who already hath it, must think to have bought a jewel of great prise, and kept with more care and peril. But to much have we spoken of these matters, for few or none shalt thou find that complain of ignorance, seeing willingly they deceive themselves.  
Now as touching sorrow itself, which worthily seemeth intolerable, Let us consider it cometh chiefly of three causes, that is to say of sickness, folly, or enforcement. How soever it be, or whatsoever grief we feel, either it is not great, or not long, and seldom it happeneth to honest men: but if it do, must of necessity be endured. Whosoever falls into sickness either willingly or against his will, would he not be ashamed that women should excel him in patience and sufferance of grief? for women in bearing of children do endure most extreme pains, yet notwithstanding do not refrain the company of men, & such as be barren, do not desire any thing so much as to have children. The grief which women suffer in childing, is of all other the greatest, and nearest to death: yea many of such grief do dye in deed. No gout, no ache, no colic or other torment is comparable to this pains. Notwithstanding how great soever they be, they leave not to live in delight, and (as wont they were) approve the joys of Venus' short without the desire of well doing. There is no grief so great, that a resolute mind will yield unto. Possidonius the Philosopher extremely sick, said unto Pompeius being come to visit him, that the greatness of pains should never make him confess that sickness was evil. Neither in deed can that be evil which is without us, therefore the grief of the body if it do not overcomour mind, cannot be said to be ours. How well did that servant which ●●ue Asdrubal declare it: For he being grievously tormented for the murder of his master, did notwythstandinge in countenance show the joy he felt for having revenged the injury of his master. I remember that when Antonius Cribellus was condemned by public assent to be torn in pieces, in preparing himself to be executed, said, that there was no torment so great as could 'cause him confess the companions of his offence, yet affyrminge there were such, but he would never bewray them. What marvel was it then though Pompeius so manfully held his finger to be burned in the candle before the king Genthius, seeing that thereby the king might perceive there was no hope to wrest out any intelligence at the Ambassadors hands. With like patience did Scevola burn his hand before the king Porcenna. Neither have there wanted women, that have deserved such glory. The mother of Hircanus the jew being offended by Ptolomeus her son in law, willed Hircanus not to leave of his enterprise: but rather revenge the death of his father whom Ptolomeus had slain. Epicharis Liberta more noble than many men, for no torment could be constrained to confess her offences or her companions in offendinge. Quintilia a little parsonage suspected for the conspiracy against Caligula, being racked with great torment, confessed nothing, whereby she was set at liberty as guiltless, and received reward as innocent. What should I speak of Barbara Agatha a Christian, with divers other virgins? the number of whom is hardly to be believed, and their constancy so marvelous, as they seemed not only patiently to have suffered torments, but also to have wished for them. But this virtue proceedeth of our Christianity. Let us return to natural reasons. There is no rest so welcome, as that which followeth great travail, nor death so much desired, as where sickness hath been most extreme. The end therefore of all grief, either by recovery, or death is pleasant. It is also to be considered, that all such as suffer great torments, being persuaded of the immortality of souls, ought thereby (though none other reason were) to be comforted. And such as believe of none other life, are sure that death is the end of all miseries. Therefore if thy grief groweth upon desert, deseruinglye thou ought to bear it, for thereby thou dost decrease thy grief, and save thy mind from due torment, neither oughtest thou to punish thy body and mind both at one time, seeing thy soul is afterwards to receive his chastisement.  
The same or more profitable reason may be made for sickness, than sorrow: for what can be intolerable in sickness, if sorrow be away? yea hardly it can be thought how many commodities it bringeth. In sickness we learn how we be, how frail the condition of life is: how incertayne, and subject to the power of others. Thereby we are taught to be mindful of an other life, and that we ought not to do that to an other, which we would not have done to ourselves. Therefore we become more temperate and continente, yea to some sickness have been cause of long life, amendment of fame, and increase of virtue. If sickness were not, a man should become more hard hearted then the Tiger, and more cruel than the Lioness. Macrobius thinketh that sickness doth more often happen to those whom God loveth, than those whom he hateth. Seneca supposed that he is most unhappy that never feeleth adversity, and that he is most miserable that is most happy. Saint Paul saith, whom God loveth him he chasteneth. The nature of man is unbridled, and were it not like wheat well sifted, would become as savage as the wild beasts. When the soul loveth the body than is it more noble and perfit, because than it cometh to his own nature being unbourdened of the body, which hindered the sight and perfit knowledge. It is therefore the less marvel that those that be most weak of body and of shortest life, be of best judgement, and most apt to know. No man hath all gifts, if thou have store of virtues of the mind, thou art of necessity the more sick of body. Then whether wouldst thou rather have a strong body and a wit like unto beasts, or a weak body with an excellent spright? Some brutish beasts there are also as much or more subject to sickness as men, as the Lion and Goat: for which cause those that do use to cell Goats, do not warrant them for sound, as they do other cattle, but as Varro saith, this day he is well and drinketh, and like enough he may so continued. And albeit these beasts be never but sick, yet wanting reason, do play and take disport: But man to his own sorrow is partaker of reason, whereby he calleth to consideration his miseries. Yet is it worthily to be noted, that seldom times we see honest men troubled with outward grieves, and those that be temperate are not often offended with inward miseries But some men do think deafness and blindness more intolerable than Sickness, though the same seemeth little to hinder the felicity of man.  
Homerus being blind, excelled all the Poetes both Latin and Greek. Tymolion being blind, governed the people of Syracuse. Appius Claudius broke the dishonourable peace, which the Romans had taken with Pirrus, and therein declared he saw more than all others having eyes. Hannibal having one only eye, conquered almost all Italy, and excelled all captains both Carthaginences & Romans (Scipio only reserved) john king of Beemia was also blind, yet a valiant and wise captain. He knowing himself overmatched with the power of his enemies, manfully did charge them, to the end that if he could not get the victory, yet he would not be accounted cowardlye. One blind man not long before our age, was so cunning in music as excelled all other in those days, and was therefore greatly esteemed, and by princes enriched. The blind man hath also his delights, as banquettinge, venery, music, and learning: and (if he were not so born) he is blind but some part of his life. He may also see dreaming and therefore Aristoteles saith, that the virtue of seeing rests not in the eyes, but in the brain, because if the sight were in the eye, than the eyes being put out, the man in dream should see nothing as doth he that was blind born. But if a man from his birth did never see, then hath he 〈◊〉 to complain according to the common saying. That the eye seethe not, the heart ruth not. For in that we know not, we neither delight nor find offence. All be it we see many things we take pleasure in, yet of them that do discontent us the number is great.  
One only perfit eye we have, which is the spirit and that more lively is in the blind, then in them that can see, by reason the outward eyes is there unto a hindrance. For which reason we find that the blind men, both in wit and memory excel all others. And as they say of Tyresia.  For God ●ris face did hide, and 〈◊〉 within the breast he set. 
Meaning that the blind man did in mind see the most. And therefore in old time such men were honoured for prophecyinge things to come When Antonius the holy, comforted Didimus the Philosopher, he said unto him, let it suffice, that still thou enjoyeste thy celestial eyes, though the other be lost. Diodorus the Stoic a companion to Cicero was blind, yet in philosophy, Music, and Geomatrys, excellent.  
Caius Drusus was so cunning in the Laws Civil although he were himself blind yet helped he many that could see. Some say Democrites for the envy his Citizens did bear him, put our his own eyes. Asc●epiades the Philosopher in his blindness, was wont to play, saying the want of sight was nothing else but as though a child should do some thing to an other whereby he might find a want.  
But among other commodities blindness doth make death the more tolerable. Because death is feared for nothing so much as that we lose the comfort of light and come into darkness, when if thou be blind before thou shalt feel the less alteration, & that which tormenteth others most in dying, thou shalt as it were dye unwares. Some perhaps there are so gross as will discommonde old age, forgetting that who so is now old, hath been in times passed young. But for trial here of let Sephalus or Spurinna be called in question, of whom we may inquire, whether old age not abused be better than lusty youth. The virtue and strength of jacobus Philippus Sacchi whom Franciscus Sforza did those to be prince of the Senate doth sufficiently show.  
Wherefore sith in all these Calamities aforesaid nothing is evil, let us consider whether in common miseries we aught to lament? as in plagues famine, and destruction of countries, which because they are common, do seem the more patiently to be suffered. But if they were evil, would be of all other most intolerable, because they are most hardly amended. We see therefore that the discontentation of men, growethe rather upon opinion then cause. And seeing it is universal, let us follow the golden age, in which time was more fidelity, more friendly conversation, more easy life, that men better minded, and their manners the less corrupt; that their fortune was so evil. In that age they lived only upon fruit, if they had got bread▪ they accounted themselves happy: but thou that wantest neither bread, wine, bed nor other provision, dost notwithstanding complain. It is envy therefore no pleasure, superfluity, no necessity that doth torment us For if our desires were reasonable, we should at all times have like wishes. And knowing with how few base things nature is contented, we should not find so infortunate end of our doings. But seeing in that miserable time men lived so contented, this can not be said any misery at all. For he is only in misery, that is enforced to hate his own life, yet in common calamities no man hateth his own life but most patiently beareth all adversities. For nothing seemeth dishonourable, that is common. Every evylle of man's life doth consyste in reproach, death except: And every thing that is good, in glory. The reason thereof is, that (as at the beginning I said) very good or evil was not to be found among mortal men. But to return to the purpose, our country perisheth, and there in our friends, kindred, reputation and substance. I grant, but dost thou account those only thy neighbours that inhabit thy country? Surely we are all descended of one line, and if we look back to our grandfathers & great great grandfathers our affinity is much. It is good manners that getteth friends, & virtue that winneth reputation, which if thou want, it is not reputation but rather ambition and craft. In poverty thou haste many Companions, so as for thine error thou need not be ashamed, for want of company thou cannot be weary. And in poverty as erst I said, there are many ways to relief: as hospitals, kinsfolk, charitable people, & all good men. Also the universality of the misery taketh away all reproach. And though many through sloth and lothenes to labour, do fall into beggary, yet a mind industrious and armed with virtue, is seldom subject thereunto. Albe it the hole city of Siracusa was taken, spoiled and sacked, yet Marcellus preserved Archimedes. Also when Megara was taken by Ptolomeus, & after by Demetrius son of Antiochus, yet Stilpho the Philosopher was saved, and at the kings hands received both honour, and reward, for the one desired his company, the other become his scholar. When Rhodus was besieged by Demetrius, Protogenes the painter, being found in the suburbs, was by him honoured, though the other cittezens remained scant in surety. Virtue is always accompanied with Nemesis, who sufferethe none to beg, saving men from common calamities. Socrates remained in Athens healthy, when the plague was there at the greatest. Crates escaped harm at the saccage of Thebes. A man of great virtue aught not to hazard himself in common calamities. Now remaineth it only somewhat to say of many miseries assembled togethers. And as Diogenes said, I am he upon whom all misfortune is cast: no house I have, no town, in exile, a vagabond, and beggar. Yet to countervail all these miseries, he thought the virtue of mind, of force enough. If therefore being old, thou art sick, poor, and banished, whether doth the increase or, divide thy miseries. Calamities are not according to this number, but the greatness to be measured. It cometh to pass in these as it doth in griefs of the body, one Calamity drive than other away. Exile taketh away the dishonour of misery, when thou livest among people unknown. And as erst I said there is nothing (save death) that a man desireth more to eschew. Whether had thou rather be Philota when he was persecuted of Alexander, having youth, beauty, strength, great, birth, & riches, then in servitude, sick, and in thy old estate? Truly the condition of man is like unto a garment which the more rich & beautiful it be, the more a sport doth disgrace it, and the less beauty it hath, the less hurt the garment there by receiveth. It is also to be considered that no man is all his life in misery for sleep causeth forgetfulness of sorrow, and is as pleasant to men in sorrow, as to those that be most happy. Also the delights of our senses be to all men almost alike common, as taste, venery, sight, hearing, and smelling. So all things that be delectable to man, do not togethers decay. If therefore at one instant all mortal men did sleep, then for that time none should be more happy than other. But we are most assured not only to sleep, but also dye: and as long to live we cannot, so how far we are from death is to us unknown. Wherefore to bear every thing resolutely, is not only the part of a wise man, but also of a man well advised, seeing that there is nothing in this life, that may justly be said to be against us. Therefore Homerus feigned Aten the Gods of calamity, to barefooted, as one that could not touch any thing sharp or hard, but walked lightly upon the heads of mortal men. Meaning that Calamity dared not come near any, but such as were of base mind, simple, & subject to effeminacy. But among such as were valiant and armed with virtue, she dared not come. Wherefore lift up thy mind to heaven where an everlasting and most pleasant life is prepared for thee. Men in this world are like trees, some slender, some great, some flourishing, some bearing fruit some withering, some growing, some blown down, and some fruitful, which in one harvest time are brought togethers and laid upon one stack. Neither is there afterwards seen any difference among them, what they be or have been, all at one time be cut down never more to grow again. Even so all pride, ambition, riches, authority, children, friends, and glory do in short space grow old, and perish, neither doth it make matter whether thou were Irus or vile Galba, Antaxerles or noble Hercules. Only honesty and virtue of mind doth make a man happy, and only a cowerdlie and corrupt conscience, do cause thy unhappiness. Because the worst that the good man can fear, is the best that the evil can wish for: which is the destruction of the Soul in death. But as he aught not to hope thereof, so should not the other fear it. For God the eternal father hath sent us into this world as children and heirs of his kingdom, and secretly beholdeth how we fight and defend ourselves, against our senses, the world and the devil. And who so in this battle, valiantly fighteth, shallbe called and placed, among the Princes of heavenly kingdom. And who so slothfully or cowerdly behaveth himself, as a slave in featnes, shall for evermore be bound.  
This worldly stage was purposely prepared, that God the father might secretly behold us. Such foolish children then, as in his sight wantonlye, slouthfully, and sediciouslye, live, should they not think he doth behold them? Whenso ever therefore thou haste taken that last leave of Life, thy soul like unto a lover embracinge his death, shall enjoy that sweetness and security, which we can neither write of, nor conceive. For sith these worldly lovers (amongst whom be many mislykings without assurance or eternity) can scarcely express their joys in love: Happy, yea thrice happy is this heavenly lover, who forgetting all others, with his one love is united. For within this kingdom he loveth and liveth in the sight of him, that can do all things, and therefore like a good son to his father is ever ready to do his pleasure.  
FINIS.