four Several Treatises of M. TULLIUS CICERO: Containing his most learned and Eloquent Discourses of Friendship: old-age: Paradoxes: and Scipio his Dream.  
All turned out of Latin into English, by Thomas Newton.  
Imprinted at London in Fleetstreet near to S. Dunstanes Church, by Tho. Marsh.  
Cum Privilegio.  
1577.   

To the Right Honourable, his very good Lord, Francis Earl of Bedford, Lord Russell, of the Noble order of the Garter Knight, and one of her majesties most Honourable privy Counsel: Tho. Newton wisheth the fernent zeal of God, with increase of much honour.  
eight years ago (Right Honourable) some part of these my poor Labours escaped my hands, and rashly (by piecemeal) passed the Printers Press, not without some blemishes and Eyesores: which, as my meaning was then to have repolished and brought into order, so the poasting speed and shuffling up of the same, without my presence, consent, and knowledge, quite defeated my purpose, and dashed my determination. But sithence things passed be irrevocable, I have thought good (upon request) to take that direct course in the second edition thereof, which seemed best to breed the Readers profit, and soon to salve mine own credit. And thereupon have I pulled all asunder again, and adventured the same anew, adding thereunto one Book more than before I had done, because the whole Work being by that means fully supplied, should come forth uniform, and in one manner of Style and order. Which being now thoroughly finished, I humbly present & offer unto your good L. not a whit doubting of your honourable acceptance, if not for any workmanship of mine, which is (God knoweth) very rude and unsavoury, yet for noble Cicero his own sake, the Author & first writer hereof: whose only name (much more his learned works) you have (as they are well worthy) in reverent estimation. For which very cause, I deemed no worthier Counsay louvre could be found to defend and protect so noble a Senator, than your H. whom in the watchful cares of the Common wealth, profound Wisdom, grave advise, and politic government, he so nearly and lively resembleth. My part of travail in the Interpretation of whose Sayings, I humbly submit unto your Honourable censure, beseeching God to continued and increase his blessings spiritual and temporal upon you, your honourable Lady, and Children, to the advancement and setting forth of his glory, the weal of this your Country, & to your own joy & consolation.  
From Butley in Cheshire the. 4. of may. 1577. Your good L. wholly at commandment, Thomas Newton.   

The Book of Friendship. Otherwise entitled, Laelius: written dialoguewise by Marcus Tullius Cicero, unto his very friend T. Pomponius Atticus.  

The Preface.  
QVINTUS Mutius Scaevola Augur was wont promptly & pleasantly to report many things of Caius Laelius his father in law, and doubted not in all his talk to term him a wiseman. And I, assoon as ever I entered into man's state, was in such sort by my father put to Scaevola, that as near as I might or could, I should not one whit step aside from the old man's sleeve. And therefore I diligently noted and committed to memory many reasons, wisely by him discoursed, and many things briefly and aptly by him spoken, and sought by his wisdom to become the better learned. After that he was dead, I got me to P. Scaevola, whom alone I dare boldly call (for wit and skill) the oddestman of our City. But of him we shall speak more at an other time. Now do I return to Scaevola Augur.  
Among his many other discourses of sundry matters, I do namely remember, that be (sitting at home in his half round Chair as his common wont was to do) when as I, and a very few of his familiars were present, fell into that talk, which as then was almost common in many men's mouths. For as I think (friend Atticus) you remember well enough, and much the rather, because you were very familiar with P. Sulpitius, what a wondering and moan there was of all men when as he being Tribune for the Commons, was fallen at deadly variance, with Q. Pompeius, being at that time Consul: with whom aforetime he had lived most friendly and lovingly. At that very time therefore Scaevola entering into talk about the same, declared unto us the Speech that Laelius had with him, and his other Son in Law C. Fannius, the Son of Marcus, a sew Days after the Death of Aphricanus, touching Freendeshyppe. The chief points of which his Discourse, I faithfully committed to memory, and have in this Book set down after mine own fancy and discretion. For I have introduced them as it were speaking one to an other, that these terms (Quoth I) and (Quoth he) should not be to often repeated. And for this purpose have I done it, because the Treatise might seem to be had, as it were of persons present even before your faces.  
And forasmuch (friend Atticus) as you have often times been in hand with me, to pen some pretty Discourse of Friendship, I deemed the same matter to be a thing both worthy the knowledge of all men, and also the Familiarity that is between us. I have done it therefore at thy request, willingly, to the end I might benefit many.  
But as my treatise, entitled Cato Maior (which is written to thee of old-age) I introduced Cato an aged man 
〈…〉 the elder.  reasoning thereof (because I judged no man fit to speak of that age, than he, who had both been a very long time an 
Book of old-age.  oldman, and also in that his old-age had flourished above others) so now also forasmuch as we have heard of our elders, what notable familiarity was between C. Laelius, and P. Scipio, I have deemed Laelius a very fit person, to discourse upon those points of Friendship, which my 
A Pair of perfect and faithful friends  master Scęuola remembered were discussed by him.  
And certainly this kind of talk, set out by the Authority of ancient and the same right honourable personages, 
The wise words of noble & annciente persons more regarded & marked then the speeches of others.  seemeth (I know not how) to carry with it more countenance & gravity. And therefore I myself reading mine own works, am sometime in that case, that I think Cato telleth the tale, and not myself.  
But as I then being old did writ of old-age to an old man: so in this book, as a most faithful friend I have written to my very friend concerning Friendship. Then, did Cato reason the matter, who was the oldest man almost, & the wisest in those days. Now, doth Laelius, a man both wise (for so was he accounted) and in the nobleness of friendship peerless, utter his opinion of Friendship. I would that for a while you should not think upon me, but suppose that Laelius himself speaketh. C. Fannius and Q. Mutius come to their father in law, after the death of Aphricanus. They speak first: Laelius maketh answer: whose whole discourse is of Friendship, which thou thyself in reading shalt thoroughly understand.   
FANNIUS. 
Your words be true, Laelius. For neither better, or nobler hath there benanye then Aphricanus. But you must think that all men have east their eyes upon you, and that you only, they call & repute wise. This title was attributed not long ago to M. Cato. We know that L. Acilius in our forefather's days was called wise: but either of them in a ●ere manner. Acilius, because he was taken for a man skilful in the Civil Law: Cato, (because he was of great experience, & because many things were reported to be by him boche in the Senate, and also in the place of Pleas, and judgements, either wisely foreseen, or stoutly achieved, or wittily answered) purchased thereby now in his old-age, as it were, a Surname, to be called wise. But you, they call wise after an other sort, not only by nature, & manners, but also by study and learning: and that not after the common people's account, but as the learned sort are wont to call one wise, even such a one, as in all the rest of Greece is not the like. For they that narrowly rip up these matters, do not 
Seven sages of Greece.  reckon them in the number of wisemen who are called the Seven wise sages, In deed, we have heard of one at Athens, 
Socrates only adjudged wise.  & such an one as by Apollo his Oracle, was adjudged the wisest man in the world. This wisdom men think to be in you, that you account all that, which is your 
The true rycheste are the gifts of he mind  own, to be ledged win you, & that you think all worldly haps inferior to virtue. And for this cause (I believe) they ask me & Scaevola here also, after what sort you take Aphricanus death: & the rather because these last Nones, when we came into D. Brutus Augurs garden (as the usage is) to talk & reason of matters, you were not thereat, who were always afore, wont to supply that day & that charge most diligently.  SCAE. 
In deed Laelius, many do ask that question, as Famniꝰ hath already declared. But I shape to them this answer, that I well perceive you did moderately bear the sorrow which you conceived for the death of so noble a Gentleman, & so loving a friend: & that you could not chose but be somewhat perplexed in mind: and that of your natural clemencte, you could not otherwise do.  
And as concerning your absence from our company these Nones, I laid for your excuse, that sickness, & not sorrow was the cause thereof.  LAE. 
You say very well Scaevola. & truly. For neither aught I for any loss of mine own, to be withdrawn from executing that charge (which so long as I was in health I always performed) neither do I think that any such chance can happen 
Constancy.  to a constant man, whereby should ensue any intermission of duty.  
And as for you Fannius, who say that the world doth ascribe so much unto me as I neither agnize nor require, you do therein friendly. But me thinks you judge not rightly of Cato: for either no 
Cato a wiseman  man (which I rather believe) or if any were, certes he was a wiseman. For (to pass over all other things untouched) how took he the death of his son? I remember Paulus, and I have seen Caius. But these may not seem to be compared to the worthy and noble Cato.  
And therefore beware how you prefer any before Cato, not, not him, whom Apollo (as you say) adjudged the wisest: for of this man, his deeds, & of that other, his sayings are commended.  
But now (to answer you both at once) as concerning mine own self, thus standeth the case. If I should flatly deny, that I am nothing at all grieved for the loss of Scipio, how well I should do therein, let wisemen judge: but truly, I should tell you a stout lie. For I am 
Death of friends grievous.  plunged in heaviness, being bereft of such a friend, as (I think) never shallbe the like, and as I can well approve, never hath any been. But I need no Physic. I comfort myself, and chiefly with this kind of comfort, that I am not in that 
To be over sorrowful for the death of them that die well, is to repine at their welfare & better state.  error, wherewith the more sort of men at the death of their friends be commonly encumbered. For I think that no manner of hurt is happened unto Scipio: mine is the harm, if any be. And for a man to pine away with sorrow for his own losses, is not the property of one that loveth his friend, but of one rather that loveth himself. As for him, who can deny that he is not in blessed plight and estate? For, unless he would have wished to have lived here for ever (which thing surely was most far from his meaning) what thing hath he not obtained that was requisite and lawful for a man to wish? Who presently at his entrance into man's state, far surmounted with his singular virtues, that great hope which the citizens had already conceived of him being yet a child. Who never sued for the Consulship, and yet was twice made Consul: first, before his time: secondly, 
When he was but 22. years of age.  in respect of himself, in due & convenient time, but in respect of the common wealth almost to late. Who by subverting two Cities, most bitter & deadly enemies to this Empire, not only eased us from broils 
Carthage and Numantia.  present, but also rid us from wars to come. What shall I say of his most courteous manners? of his natural zeal towards his mother? of his liberality towards his sisters, of his bounty towards his friends, of his upright dealing towards all men? These things be well known unto you. And how entirely beloved he was of all the City, was testified by that moan that was made at his funerals. What therefore could the having of a few years more, have profited him? For old-age, although it be not cumbersome (as I remember Cato a year before his death 
old-age.  discoursed with me & Scipio) yet it taketh a way that gallantise, wherein Scipio as then was Wherefore his life was such, either through Fortune or glory, that nothing could be thereunto added more. And his quick departure quite took away, all pain or sense of Death: of which kind of dying, it is an hard point, to determine any certainty. What men do judge, you know. Notwithstanding, this may I safe lie say, that among all the famous & joyful days, which P. Scipio in his life time saw, that day of all other was the noblest, when as anon a●ter the breaking up of the Senate, 
Scipio brought home from the Senate house honourably.  the day before he departed this life, he was honourably brought home in the evening, by the Lords of the counsel, by that League friends of the romans, & by that Latins: so that from so honourable a step of dignity, he seemed rather to have mounted up to heaven, them to have gone down to hell. For I cannot in any wise agreed with them in opinion, which of late brought these matters into question, that the souls died with the bodies: & that death played swoopstake of all together. I make more account than so, of the authority of ancient persons 
Immortality of the soul.  in thold time, & of our Elders, which appointed such reverent laws for the ●ead: which thing (doubtless) they would not have done, if they had thought that nothing had concerned them: & of them which dwelled in this land, & instructed great Greece (which then flourished, but now is quite destroyed (with their good lessons, & precepts: & of him, that was by Apollo his Oracle deemed the wisest man alive, who did not affirm now one thing, and now another (as many do) but continued always in one Opinion, that men's souls were divine, and that assoon as they be departed out of the body, the minds of every good and just man have a very ready and speedy passage into heaven. Of which opinion also Scipio was: who as though he should by inspiration foretell a thing, a very few days before his death (when both Philus and Manilius & divers other were present, and when you yourself, Scaevola, communed with me) discoursed three whole 
Immortality of the soul.  days together of the common wealth: the last knitting up of all which discourse, was in a manner concerning the immortality of the soul: all which (he said) he heard in his sleep by vision of Aphricanus. If this be true, that the Soul of every worthy wight, at the time of death doth easily mount into heaven, as being delivered out of that prison, & Gyves of the bodies: whom shall we think, had an easier passage to God, than Scipio? Wherefore to be sorry at this his good hap, I fear, were rather the part of an envious, then of a friendly person. On the other side, if I were doubtful of this, that the Soul died together with the body, & that there remained no feeling either of weal or woe: then truly, as in Death there is no goodness, so neither is there any evilness. For when Sense & feeling is once gone, he is become as though he had never been borne: and yet that he was borne, both we do rejoice, and all this City, (as long as it standeth) shallbe glad. Wherefore as (I said before) he is very well, and in better case than I am: whom reason would that as I came before him into this world, so I should have gone before him out of this life. But yet I take such an inward joy at the remembrance of our Friendship, that me thinks I lived blessedly, 
What friendship is.  because I lived with Scipio: with whom I had a joint care of matters both public & private: with whom both in peace & war I took like part: & (that wherein the whole sum of Friendship consisteth) there was between us a most perfect agreement of wills, desires, & opinions.  
Therefore this fame of wisdom (which Fannius ere while rehearsed, doth not so much delight me (specially being false) as that I hope, the memory of our Friendship shallbe everlasting, & the greater hartioye is it to me, because in so many hunndred years passed, there can be reckoned scarcely iii or iiii. couples of Friends: 
There have not been found above three or four couples of perfect friends in many hundred years space.  in which sort I see there is hope that the Friendship of Scipio & Laelius shallbe renowned to posterity.  FAN. 
It cannot choose (Laelius) but be even so as you say. But because you have made mention of Friendship, & we be also at good leisure, you shall do me a singular pleasure, & likewise I hope to Scaevola if (accordingly as you are want of other matters when they be demanded of you) you would now make some pretty discourse of Friendship, what you think of it, what manner of thing you accounted it, and what good lessons you give thereupon.  SCAEV. 
Certainly that handling of this matter shall singularly delight me: & even as I was about to break my mind to you touching the same, Fannius prevented me. Wherefore sir, you shall exceedingly gratify us both.  LAE 
Certes I would not stick to do it, if I thought myself well able. For the matter is both excellent, and we be (as Famnius said) at very good leisure. But who am I? or what ability is therein me? This is the fashion of learned men & that among the Greeks, to have a matter propounded unto them, to reason upon, although upon the sudden. It is a great piece of work, & hath need of no small exercise.  
Wherefore I think it best for you to 
Friendship to be esteemed more than all worldly things.  seek those points which may be disputed of Friendship, at their hands which profess these things. I can no more but exhort you to prefer Friendship before all worldly matters. For nothing is so agreeable to nature, nothing so fit either for prosperity or adversity.  
But first and foremost this do I think, that Friendship cannot be but in good men. Neither do I search this matter to the quick, as they which rip up this gear somewhat more precisely: and although perchance truly, yet little to common profit. For they deny that any 
Friendship only among good men.  man is good, saving him that is wise. Admit it be so. But they expound wisdom to be such a thing, as never yet any earthly man attaigned.  
But we must hope for those things which be in ure and common practice: not for those things, which be feigned or wished for. I will never say that C. Fabritius, M. Curius. & T. Coruncanus, whom our elders deemed wisemen, were wise, after these men's rule. Wherefore let them keep to themselves their name of wisdom, being both liable to much envy and also unaccoumpted of, and let them grant that these were good men. But they will never so do: for they will deny that that can be granted to any, saving to him that is wise. Let us therefore go even bluntly to work, and (as the Proverb is) in terms, as plain as a pack staff. They that so behave themselves, and so live, that their faithfulness, honesty, upright dealing and liberality is allowed, and in whom is neither any covetousness, lust, or rash boldness, who be also men of great constancy (as were these whom I erewhile named) those (as they were accounted 
Nature the best guide to frame our lives by.  good men) so let us think them well worthy to be called: who do follow nature the best Guide of well living, so far forth as man's power can reach. For thus much me thinks I espy, that we are so borne, to then the there should be a certain fellowship among us all: & the nearer that every one cometh to other, the greater should the fellowship 
Order of Friendship  be. Therefore are our own Countrymen better beloved of us then strangers, & our kinsfolk dearer to us, than frennefolke. For, towards these, hath Nature herself bred a friendliness: but in this there is not such durable sureness. For herein doth Friendship excel kindred, in that, kindred may be without goodwill: but Friendship in no wise can lack it. For take away Goodwill, and the name of Friendship is clean gone: but the name of kindred may still remain.  
Now, of what virtue and strength, Friendship is, may hereby namely be understood: that of the infinite societies of mankind which Nature herself hath knit together, the whole matter is so abridged and brought into such narrow room, that all perfect Friendship is either between twain, or else between a very few. For Friendship is nothing else but a perfect agreement with goodwill and hearty love in all matters, both divine and humane. Then 
What friendship is.  the which I know not whether any better Gift (Wisdom only except) were geeven by God unto men. Some 
Friendship the best thing next unto wisdom,  rather prefer Rythesse's: some health: others Honour: many also vain pleasures. But certes this last is for Beasts: the other afore are transitory and uncertain, consisting not so much in our own apoyntmentes, as in the fickleness of Fortune.  
But they which repose the chief goodness in Virtue, do therein excellently well: and yet this same Virtue is 
Friendship cannot be where virtue is not.  it, which engendereth and upholdeth Friendship: neither can friendship in any wise Bee without Virtue.  
Now let us judge Virtue by the order of our life and talk. And let us not measure it (as some unlearned do) by the stateliness of Words: and let us account them Goodmen, who are so reputed, that is to wit, the Paul's, the Cato's, the Caians', the Scipions, and the Pniloes.  
These held themselves contented with this common kind of life. And let us pass them over, which are not any where at all to be found. Among such manner of persons, friendship hath so great Commodities, as I am scarce able to express. first and foremost, 
●Co●●●diti●● 〈◊〉 Frēd●●●●●●.  what man can have any joy to live in this life (as Ennius saith) which delighteth not in the mutual Friendship and goodwill, of some especial Friend? What pleasant thing can there be, then to have one, with whom thou darest as boldly talk, & break thy mind, as with thine own self? What great joy should a man have in his Prosperity: if he had not some to rejoice and take part of the same with him, aswell as himself?  
And as touching Adversity, it were a very hard matter to bear it, without some, that would take the same, even more grievously than thou thyself.  
To conclude, all other things which are desired, do (in a manner) all severally serve to several purposes: as Riches for use: wealth for worship: Honour, for praise: Pleasure for delight: Health to want grief and to execute the offices of the body. Friendship compriseth many things more. Which way soever thou turnest thee, it is at hand: in no place is it excluded: it is never out of season, never troublesome.  
Therefore we do use neither water, fire nor air (as they say) in more places, than we do friendship. Neither do I 
Friendship no less necessary than the Elements  speak of the vulgar or mean sort of Friendship (which notwithstanding both delighteth & profiteth) but of true and perfect Friendship, such as theirs was, who are very few and soon reckoned. For Friendship maketh prosperity both more glittringe and glorious: and adversity (by parting & communicating of grieves) it maketh lighter, and easier. And whereas Friendship containeth in it very many and great commodities, this (doubtless) passeth all the rest, in that, it comforteth us aforehand with a good hope of that which is to come, and suffereth neither the heart to quail nor the courage to be abated, For he that eyeth and looketh upon his faithful Friend, doth (as it were) behold a certain 
A true faithful friend is as man's ownse  pattern of his own self. And therefore although absent, yet are they present: & being needy, have store enough, and being weak, are strong: and (which is a strange matter to be told) being dead are alive. So great is the honour, remembrance, and zeal, that is bred in friends one towards an other, By reason whereof, the death of the one seemeth blessed, & the life of the other commendable.  
Now, if you take out of the world the knot of Friendship, certes, neither shall any house be able to stand, ne City to endure, not, nor yet any tillage to continued. And if hereby it cannot thoroughly be conceived, how great the force of Friendship and concord is: yet at lest by discord and diffention, it may well be perceived. What house is there so well 
Without Friendship all things go to havoc and decay.  stayed, what City so strong, that through hatred, and discord, may not be utterly subverted? Whereby, what goodness resseth in Friendship, may easily be judged.  
Men say that a certain Learned 
Empedocles affirmed that the world and all things consisted of friendship.  man of Agrigent, displayed in Greek Verses, that all things which are in this World, and have moving, are knit together by Friendship, & that by discord, they are dissevered. And this do all men both understand, and by proof do find to he very true. Therefore if at any time there hath been kindness showed by one friend toward another, either in adventuring, or in participating of perils, what is he that will not highly commend the same? What a shout was there of late made by all the whole Stage, at the new Enter lude made by my host and friend M. Pacwius? when as the king not knowing whether of the twain was Orestes: Pylades affirmed 
Pylades & Orestes.  himself to be Orestes because he would have suffered death for him: Again, Orestes (as the truth was) stiffelye advouched that he and not the other was Orestes. The standers by clapped their hands together for joy thereat. And this being done in a feigned tale, what think we would they have done in a true matter? Here did Nature herself utter her force, when as men adjudged that thing to be well done in an other, which they themselves could not doe-Hytherto as me thinks I have even throughly spoken my full mind and opinion of friendship. If there be any more to be said (as I think there is a great deal) seek it (if ye think it good) at their hands which dispute these kind of matters.  FANNI. 
But we had rather hear it of you. Albe it I have oftentitimes sought the same at their hands, and have heard them also, and that not unwyllingelye. But we look for an other manner of Vein and Style at your hands.  SCAEVOL. 
You would much more have said so, Fannius, if you had been present with us in Scipio his Garden, at what time there was reasoning of the Common wealth, what a Patron of justice he was against a certain curious Oration that Philus made.  fan. 
That surely was an easy matter, for a just man to defend justice. SCAE. And what say you of friendship? Shall it not be alike easy for him to do therein semblably, who for faithfully, constantly, and justly keeping the same, hath gotten great renown?  LAEL. 
This (truly) is even to force me to speak. For what skilleth it, by what way you do force me? This am I sure of, that ye force me. For to withstand the earnest requests of a man's Sons in Law, and namely in a good matter, partly it is an hard case, & partly it standeth not with reason.  
Many times therefore as I debate with myself of Friendship, I am wont to think this one thing therein worthy of special consideration: whether men aught to seek for Friendship only for a stay to their weakness and need, that in doing and taking good turns, a man 
wherefore Friends be sought for.  might receive that of an other, which he could not compass or attain unto by himself, and enter chaungeably requited the same: or whether this were (in deed) one property belonging to Friendship, but yet that there was an other cause more noble more commendable, & more proceeding from nature itself. For love (where 
love.  of friendly love or Friendship is named) is the chiefest cause that fasteneth goodwill together. For profit is oftentimes gotten even at their hands, who under the sergeant show of Friendship are sought unto, & as the time serveth, are waited upon at an inch. But in Friendship there is no glavering, no dissembling: what soever is in it, the same is true and voluntary.  
Wherefore me thinks Friendship had 
Friendship natural.  his first beginning rather of nature than of imbecility: & of casting ones fancy towards another, with a certain feeling of Love, rather than by considering how much profit might enive thereupon. The which surely, what manner of thing it is, may even in certain Beasts be perceived: which for a certain time so tenderly love their young ones, and be again so loved of them, that their feeling thereof easily appeareth: which thing in man is much more evident. First by that dear love that is between Children, & Parents which cannot without detestable bill any be dissevered.  
secondarily, when as there is a like feeling of Love again: as when we have found one with whose Manners and Nature we well agreed: (because to our own thinking) we espy in him (as it were) a certain Light of Honesty and virtue. For nothing is 
Virtue.  more lovely and amiable than Virtue, nothing that more allureth men to love one another: insomuch that for Virtue and honesty we do after a sort, love even them whom we never saw. Who is he, that doth not with a certain singular Love, and Goodwill towards the parties, use the remembrance of C. Fabritius, and M. Curius, whom notwithstanding he never saw? Who again doth not hate Tarqvinius the proud, Sp. Cassius, and Sp. Melius? We strove for the Empire, in italy with two Captains, Pyrrhus, and Hannibal: and yet from the one of 
Pyrrhus. Hannibal  them, because of his honest name we did not altogether estrange our hearts: The other for his cruelty, this City of ours will for ever detest.  
Now, if the force of Honesty be so great, that we love the same, yea, in those, whom we never saw, and (which is more) even in our Enemies: what marvel is it, if men's hearts be moved, when they seem to perceive and see Virtue, and goodness in them, with whom they may be joined in acquaintance and conversation. Albeit Love is confirmed by benefits received, by Goodwill approved, and 
love confirmed by Benefits  by acquaintance adjoined: All which things being laid together to that first motion of man's mind and Love, there is enkindled a wonderful greatness of Goodwyll, and Freendlynesse. Which if any do think to proceed and come of imbecility, as though it should be but to serve every mannestourne, thereby to get the thing which he desireth: such men surely do make a very base and (as a man should say) not Gentlemanlike 
Base peda grew of Friendship  race unto Freendeshyppe, if they would have it to descend and have his beginning from neediness and want. Which thing if it were so: then, as every man felt himself of smallest ability, so should he be most fittest for Friendship: which thing is far otherwise. For as every man trusteth most to himself: & as every man is with virtue and wisdom so singularly furnished, that he standeth not in need of any other, and thinketh that all which is his, resteth in himself: so in seeking and maintaining Friendship doth he especially surmount. For what? Had Aphricanus any need of me? Never a whit surely. And I neither of him. But I through a certain 
Scipio & Laelius, ij perfect friends.  admiration that I had of his virtue loved him: and again, he, for some opinion perchance, that he conceived of my manners fancied me: and our daily conversation together, increased our goodwilles. But although many and great commodities ensued thereof, yet did not the causes of our love one to the other issue from any hope of such things. For as we be bountiful and liberal, not of purpose to get thanks therefore (for we do not lay out our benefits to usury, but are by nature enclineable to liberality) 
Good turns & pleasures laid out to usury.  so likewise do we think that Friendship is to be desired of men, not led thereto with hope of reward, but because all the fruit thereof resteth in very love itself. 
Friendship must not be desired for profit.   
We far disagree in opinion from them which after the manner of bruit Beasts do refer all things to Pleasure & Sensuality. And no marvel. For why? They that have abased & cast all their cogitations upon a thing so vile and contemptible, cannot have any regard to any high, noble, and heavenly thing. Wherefore let us set aside such manner of persons from this talk: and let us understand that the feeling of Love and perfect goodwill is engendered by Nature, with having some signification or proof of honesty. Which honesty they that desire and seek after, apply themselves, and draw nearer thereunto: that they may enjoy both the company, and also the manners of him, whom they have begun to love: and that they may be Mates, and alike in Love, readier to do a good turn, then to seek for any. And let this be an honest kind of strife between them.  
Thus shall very great commodities be taken of Friendship, and the first beginning thereof, being of Nature and not of Imbecility) shall be both weightier and truer. For if Profit should fasten and knit friendship, 
Nature cannot be changed ne yet Friendship  than the same being changed, should dissolve and lewse it again. But because Nature cannot be changed, therefore true Freendshyppes are everlasting. Thus you see the begining of friendship: except peradventure there be some thing else that you would demand.  SCAE. 
Nay Laelius, I pray you proceed in your matter: for, as for him here that is my younger, I dare upon mine own warrant answer.  FAN. 
In deed you say well: wherefore let us hear further.  LAELIUS. 
give ear then Gentlemen to those things, which many times and often have been reasoned between me and Scipio, concerning Freendeshyppe: Howbeit his saying was, that nothing was harder, then for Freendeshyppe to continued unto the last hour of Death. For he would say, that it oftentimes happened, either that one and the self same thing should not be 
Continuance of Friendship.  expedient for both parties: or else that they would not always be of one mind in matters of the common wealth. He would also say, that men's manners did often change, sometimes by the world going awry, sometimes by growing forward in age.  
And of these things he would bring an Example by a comparison made of Boy's age, because the hoattest love that Children had, was oftentimes determined 
Children in Friendship and lo●e new fangled.  and ended, at the age when their voices change: And albeit they continued it till the age of their Adolescencye: yet he said, that their friendship was oftentimes broken of, either through some contention, or by reason of riot, or some other profit because both of them could not obtain one self thing. Insomuch that if any of them, by longer time continued in Friendship, yet that they often times jarred, if they happened to sue for preferrment and Dignity. And further he said, that there was no greater 
Covetousness a great plague to Friendship.  plague in friendship, then in the most sort of men, Covetousness of money: and in the best sort, striving for advancement and glory. Whereupon many times great enemitye hath happened between right dear friends. Also he recoumpted, that great variances, and the same many times upon good causes, did arise, when as any thing was required of friends, that was not honest: as either that they should be ministers of Lust to others, or helpers to them in doing of wrong. Which thing they that refused to do, although in so do judge they did but right honestly, yet should they be reproved as forsakers of the law of Friendship at their hands whose requests they would not accomplish. And that they which had the face to request any thing whatsoever, at their friends hands, did by such their demand profess, that they for their Friends sake would do all things. And that through their inveterate suuffinge one at an other, not only their familiarities was wont to be extinguished but also great and endless hatred to grow between them.  
These so many things (said he) overthwarted & hanged (as who should say) by destiny over Friendship: in so much that to escape all these, seemed to him (as he said) not only a part of Wisdom, but also of very Happiness.  
Wherefore if it please you, let us first 
How far the bounds of petition stretch.  see, how far Love aught to stretch in Friendship. As if Coriolanus had friends, whether they aught to have joined sides and borne weapon with the 
Commotion of Coriolanus.  same Coriolanus against their country? Whether Becillinus his friends aught to have holpen him, when he aspired to Sovereignty? whether Sp. Melius his well-willers aught to have taken part with him or no? We saw that Tiberius Gracchus when he disquieted the Common wealth, was clean forsaken of Q. Tubero, & other friends that were his compaignions'. But Caius Blosius the Cumane, (a Guest of your family Scaevola) when 
A man must not for his fredes sake do any thing that is either unlawful or unhonest.  he came and made suit to me (sitting in counsel with Lenas' and Rutilius the Consuls) alleged this as a cause why I should pardon his trespass: because (for sooth) he made such special account of Tiberius Gracchus, that if he had but said the word, & commanded any thing, that same be thought himself bound in duty to do. Sayye so (quoth I?) what & if he had bid thee to set the Capitol on fire, wouldst thou do it? He would never 
Capitol.  (said he) have willed me to do any such thing: but if he had, truly I would 
Blosius desperate answer  have done it. You see what a villainous saying this was. And in deed so he did: or rather more than he said: for he not only followed the heady rashness of Tiberius Gracchus, but also was a Ringleader: and showed himself not only a companion of his outrage, but also a Captain. Therefore in this mad mood being afraid of a farther examination, he fled into Asia, and got him to our Enemies, and in the end for his traitorous attempts against our City, received a grievous and well deserved 
Such a● unexcusable as do attempt any thing unlawful to pleasure their friends.  punishment. No excuse therefore will serve for an offence, if a man offend for his friends sake. For sithence the opinion of Virtue is the breeder of Friendship, it is hard for Friendship to remain, if a man swerver from Virtue. Now if we do agreed that it is honest and reasonable, either to grant to our 
Reques●●● of frend● to friend.  Friends, what soever they will have, or to obteyve of our Friends, what so ever we desire, therein (truly) we be of a right tried wisdom, if there be no fault committed in our dealings. But we speak of those friends, which be daily in our sights, whom we see or of whom we have heard talk, or such as in common dealings of life are thoroughly known. Out of the number of such, must we cull out examples, and namely of them, which approached nearest unto wisdom. We certainly know that Paulus Aemilius was very familiar with C. Lucinius, (as we have heard our forefather's report) and that they were twice Consuls together, & fellows in the office of Censorshippe. We find also in Histories that at that time together with them, M. Curius & T. Coruncanus were very great friends. Therefore we cannot so much as one suspect that any of these did earnestly request any thing of his friend, that was contrary to their faith, against their oath, or prejudicial to the common wealth. For to what purpose should it be, to say that any such things were in such men as they were? If they had never so earnestly requested any such thing, I know they should not have obtained their Suit, sithence they were men most virtuous. But let it be alike heinous to request our friend an unreasonable 
As great an offence to grant an unlaw full suit, as to request it.  suit, & to grant the same being asked. But yet Caius Carbo favoured Tiberius Gracchus. and so did C. Cato, being at that time no backefreende to Caius his brother, but is now his most heavy enemy.  
LET this therefore be the first decreed 
An unhonest request must be denied  Law in Friendship, that we neither request things unhonest: neither being requested, do any. For it is a shameful excuse and not to be dispensed withal, for a man, in any other faults, but namely in offences against the Common wealth, to confess that be did it for his Friends sake. For we are placed (O Fannius and Scaevola) in that room and calling, that it behoveth us long afore to foresee the chances, that may happen to the common wealth.  
For the custom that our forefathers used, is now somewhat altered and stepped 
There is not such just dealings among men now a days as was in the old tim●  aside out of his old course.  
Tiberius Gracchus went about to usurp the kingdom: yea, he ruled as a King in deed for certain months.  
Hath ever the people of Rome heard or seen the like? His example also after his death did his friends and kinsfolk follow. What parts they played against P. Scipio Nasica, I am not able without tears to declare. And as for Carbo (of whom I spoke erewhile) we did suffer and hear with him, because of the late punishment of Tiberius Gracchus.  
But what my mind giveth me, will fall out in C. Gracchus' Tribuneshippe, I am not now disposed to utter. for thence the matter by little & little stylye 
By these two laws made by Gabimus and Cassius, the goods of certain good Citizens were wholly forfeited & proclamation made that they themselves where ever they were found might lawfully be slain and a reward a pointed for the sleiar.  creepeth forward, which fully tending to a further mischief (when it once beeginneth) will mainly run beadlonge. You see already aforehand in the roll of Attaints, what dishonour hath enfued, first by the * Law called Gabinia, and within two years after by the law Cassia. Me thinks I already see the Commonalty of Rome divided from the Senate, and the weighty affairs thereof to be ordered after the wills of the common multitude. For more will learn how to do these things, than home to withstand them. But to what end do I speak this? Verily because no man goeth about any such attempts without more partahers. * Therefore must a Covent be given to that honest sort, that if by any chance they light unawares into such Frendeshippes, they should not think themselves so tied thereunto, 
If our friends conspire against the common wealth we aught to forsake them.  but that they may lawfully give their friends the slip, namely when they practise any great matter, to the hurt of the common wealth. And unto the evil disposed persons, must a punishment be devised: & no less for than that partake with others, them for those that be the very Ringleaders, & Captains of mischief themselves.  
What Noble man was there in all Greece more renowned than Themistocles? Who was of greater power than 
We ought not to seek the spoil of our country, for any injury to us done.  he? who bring General in the wars against the Persians, delivered Greece from Bondage: and being afterward through envy banished, could not digest and suffer that Injury of his unkind Country, which his part was to have suffered. He played that like part as Coriolanus did xx. years before, with us. There was not one manfound that would aid them against 
Coriolanus.  their country: & therefore both of them killed themselves. Wherefore such conspiracy of naughty persons is not only not to be cloaked with any pretence of Friendship, but is rather with all extremity to be punished: that no man may think it lawful to consent to his friend that warreth against his Country: which thing (as that world now beginneth to go) I know not whether it will one day come to pass or no. Verily I have no less care, in what state the Common 
A noble and most worthy care.  wealth shallbe after my death: then I have of the case it standeth in at this present day.  
LET this therefore be enacted as the 
Lawful requests, & grants of friends, one to an other.  first law of Friendship, that we request at our friends hands, those things that be honest: and that we do for our friends sakes, all things that be reasonnable: and that we do not pinch courtesy in staying till we be requessted, but let us ever have an earnest good will to pleasure them: let all delays be set apart: and let us be glad in deed, freely to give our friend good counsel. 
Friends may not flatter but freely & boldly advertise & counsel one an other.  Let the Authority of Friends (giving sound counsel) bear great sway and force in Friendship, and let the same be used to warn one another, not only plainly, but (if occasion so serve) sharply: and let such authority so geeven be thoroughly obeyed. As for those good fellows, whom (as I hear say) were accounted jolly wisemen in Greece, I think they delighted in some uncouth wonders. 
Epicures.  But there is nothing whereupon they do not deskant with their quiddities: as partly that we should eschew Friendship with too many, lest one man should be driven to be careful formanye: & that every man should have fully enough to do, to care for his own matters: that it is a great trouble to be overmuch encumbered with other men's dealings: & that it is a jolly matter to have that reins of Friendship at will, either to pluck s●reit when a man is disposed, or to let go at large, at his own pleasure. And that the principallest point of happy life is Quietness: which the mind cannot enjoy, if one should bear all that burden and as it were) travail with child for many.  
Another sort (they say) there be, which hold a more beastly opinion than these above (as I briefly noted a little before) affirming that Friendship aught to be desired for a stay and a help to be had thereby, not for any goodwill or hearty love. Therefore by this reckoning, as every one hath of himself smallest stay & ability, so should he most seek for friendship. And by this means it happeneth that silly women seek the aid of Friendship more than men: and the needy more than the wealthy: and the miserably distressed, more than they that be accounted fortunate.  
O passing brave wisdom. For they seem to take the sun out of the world, which would take Friendship, from among us: then the which, we have nothing 
Friendship is as the shining Sun in the world.  either better or pleasant by the immortal Gods given unto us.  
For what manner of Quietness is this? forsooth, to see to: very pleasant: but in deed, in many respects to be rejected. For it standeth not with reason, either not to take in hand, or being taken in hand, to leave of, any honest cause or 
We must ever be doing of good.  deed, because thou wouldst not be troubled. But if we refuse care, we must then refuse Virtue, which must of necessity with some care despise and hate those things that be contrary to it: as for example: Goodness must hate Euilnesse: Temperance, riot: Fortitude, Cowardice. Therefore a man may see the just, greatly grieved at matters unjust, the stout at the weak: the modest livers with pranks ungracious. This therefore is the property of 
Propertie of a well staid mind  a well stayed mind, to rejoice at good things, & to be sorry for the contrary.  
Wherefore if grief of mind be incident to a Wiseman (as in very deed it is) except we think that humanity be clean dislodged out of his mind, what cause is there, why we should utterly take away Friendship from the life of man, because we would take no pains, or troubles about it? For take away the 
A man voided of all affections is like a log or a stone.  motions of the mind, and tell me what difference there is (I will not say) between a Beast and a man, but even between a man and a Stone, or a Log, or any other such like thing?  
Neither are they to be geeven ear unto, which hold opinion that Virtue is hard, & as it were pronlike: which surely is in many things else, but especially in Friendship, tender, & tractable: in so much that at the weal of his friend, it spreadeth itself abroad, and at his mishaps shrinketh in again. Wherefore this same trouble which must oftentimes be abiden for our friends, is not of such force, that it should quite take away Friendship from among men: no more than Virtue aught to be rejected, because it bringeth sundry cares and grievances. Seeing therefore that Virtue causeth Friendship (as I afore have declared) if any token or signification of virtue appeareth, whereunto a mind senulably disposed, may apply & join itself: where this thing happeneth, there (say I) needs must Friendship grow.  
For what is so absurd, as to be delighted with many vain things, as honour. Glory, Houses, Apparel, bravery and decking of the body: and not to be exceedingly 
A preposterous & absurd delight.  delighted with a Mind endued with Virtue, such a one as either can love, or (as I may say) afford love for love again? For there is nothing more delectable, then is the requital of good will: nothing more pleasant than is the mutual entrecourse of friendliness and courtesies. And if we add this unto it (which may very will be added) 
interchangeable requital of courtesies.  that there is nothing which so greatly allureth & draweth any thing unto it, as the likeness of Conditions doth unto Friendship: then surely must this be needs granted true, that 
Likeness of manners and delights causeth Friendship.  goodmen do love them which he good, & haunt together in company as men near lie joined together by kindred & nature.  
For nothing is more desirous, nothing is more eager & ravenous of his like, than 
Nature  Nature.  
Wherefore this in my judgement is a 
One virtuous man loveth an other.  plain case (Fannius and Scaevola, that it cannot choose, but there must needs be among good men, one towards an other, a friendly and hearty well meaning: which is the Wellspringe of Friendship, appointed by Nature.  
But this same goodness appertaineth 
Virtue disdaigneth no man.  also to the common sort. For Virtue is not churlish, not exempted, not stately, or proud: for her custom is to preserve all men in general, and to do the best for them that she can: which thing (doubtless) she would not do, if she disoayned or thought scorn of the love of the vulgar sort.  
Furthermore, me thinks that they which for profit sake feign friendship, do take away the loveliest knot 
Goodwill of a Friend, is more to be respected, than the gain that may be gotten by him.  that is in Friendship. For the profit gained by a friend doth not so much delice, as doth the very love of a friend. And then is that which cometh from a man's friend, pleasant, if it proceed of an hearty love, and good william. And so far of is it, that Friendship should be desired for neediness, that they which being endued with wealth & Riches and specially with Virtue (wherein is most aid) & not standing in need of any other, are men most liberal & bountiful.  
And I know not, whether it be expedient and meet that friends should never 
A friend is best known in time of necessity.  want any thing at all. For wherein should my hearty goodwill have appeared, if Scipio had never stood in need, neither at home in time of peace, nor abroad in time of wars, of my favour, 
True friendship seeks not after gain.  counsel, & assistance? Therefore Friendship prowles not after profit, but profit ensueth Friendship.  
And therefore men that slow in wealth are not to be heard, if at any time they dispute of Friendship, whereof they have neither by Practice, neither by knowledge, any understanding. For what 
All worldly treasure without a friend is to no purpose  man is he (I pray you in good sadness) that would desire to wallow in all wealth and live in all abundance of worldly richesse, and neither he to love any body, nor any to love him? For this were a life, such as Tyrants live: to wit, 
A Tyrants life.  wherein there can be no fidelity, no hearty love, no trust of assured goodwill: all things evermore suspected & full of care: & no place at all for Friendship. For who can 
We cannot love them of whom we stand in fear,  either love him, whom he feareth: or him of whom he thinketh himself to be feared: Notwithstanding such persons be honoured & crouched unto, by a sergeant show of Friendship, only for a time. But if it happen (as oftentimes it doth) that they have a downfall, them is it well perceived, how bore & naked of friends they were. Which 
Adversity trieth Friends.  thing the report goeth that Tarquinius said, that at such time as he was banished, he thoroughly understood what faithful friends he had, & who were unfaithful, when as he was not able to require or gratify neither of them. Howbeit I do marvel, if in the his proud & insolent life, he could have any friend at al. And as this man's manners, whom I last mentioned could not procure any true friends: so that great wealth of men set in high power & authority do quite shut out all faithful Friendship. For 
Riches blindeth men.  Fortune is not only blind, but for the most part also, she maketh them stark 
Fortune.  blind, whom she favoureth.  
And therefore commonly they are puffed up with disdaynfulnesse and self will: and there is nothing so wearisome as a wealthy man, being foolish.  
And this may we see, that some which afore time were of manners gentle & nothing squeimish, if they be raised to rule, authority and wealth, are clean changed: and utterly despising their old friendships, clean unto new.  
But what foolisher thing is there, then for a man (to th'end he may bear great port and Sway through his wealth, richesse, and revenues) to get 
Friends the best treasure.  other things that are sought for, as money, Horses, Servants, apparel, Worship and costly Plate: and not to get friends being the best and (as I may say) the goodliest furniture that can be in this life? For other things when they are gotten, they know not for whom they have gotten them, nor for whose use and behoof they labour. For every whit of all these, is his, that can win it with main strength: but the possession of Friendship once gotten, remaineth and continueth unto every man steadfast and assured: and although these other things should continued, which are but as it were the Gifts of Fortune, yet a clownish life, devoid of friends cannot be pleasant. But of these matters hitherto.  
Now must we set down the Bounds that are in Friendship, & (as it were) 
Bounds of Friendship. Three opinions of Friendship.  the limits, or Buttinge of Love: whereof I do see three opinions: of the which, I do allow never a one.  
One is, that we should in the very same sort be affected towards our friend, as we be towards ourselves. 
1   
An other is, that our goodwill towards our friends, be likewise equally 
2  correspondent to their good will towards us.  
The third, that so much as every man setteth by himself, so much he 
3  should be set by, of his friends.  
To none at all of these three opinions do I agreed. For the first is not true: that as every man is towards himself, so also should he be affected towards his friend. For how many things do we for our Friends sake, which we would never do for our own cause? As to crouch & sue in our friends behalf to an unworthy man: to be sore bend against any body, and to rattle him up very sharply: which things to do in cases of our own, standeth not well with honesty: but in our friends behalf, are most honest & commendable. And many things there be, wherein honest men do abridge themselves somewhat of their own gains, and are well contented that it should so be, that their friends rather than themselves might enjoy them.  
The second opinion is it, which defineth friendship with equal Courtesies, & wills: but truly this were too strict dealing to call Friendship to accounted, & reckoning, how many pleasures have been done, to th'intent so many may again be received. Me thinks, that true Friendship is a great dease richer and plentifuller, and doth not so strictly see to his reckonings, that he grant no more than he received. For there is no such fear to be taken, lest there be any thing lost, or least it 
We cannot do to much in friendship.  should be spilled upon the ground, or lest we heap up too much measure in Friendship. The third Bond or End is worst of all: which is, that how much every man setteth by himself, so much he should be set by of his friends. In some there is many times either a quailed courage, or a comfortless hope of amending their estate. Therefore it is not a friends part, to be such unto him, as he is to 
Comfort & cheering of Friends.  himself: but he aught rather to study and devise which way he may recomfort the appalied mind of his friend, and to put him in good hope of a better amendment.  
We must therefore prescribe an other kind of true Friendship: but first I will tell you, what thing it was that Scipio was wont most to found fault withal. He said that there could not be devised any word more directly against Friendship: 
A saying repugnant to friendship.  then his was, which said that a man ought so to love, as though he should one day again hate. And that he could not be persuaded to think that this was ever spoken (as it was supposed) by Bias, who was accounted one of that seven. wise Sages: but rather that it was the opinion of some lewd and ambitious person, or of one that would rule all things by his own power and authority as he lust himself. For how can any man be friend to him, whose enemy he thinketh that he shall one day be?  
Furthermore, needs must he desire & wish, that his friend might very often offend, to the end he may thereby have (as it were) the more occasions to find fault with him. Again, he must needs fret, sorrow, and spirit at his friends well doings and commodities.  
Wherefore this note (whose so ever it is) is enough to take Friendship quite away. This Rule rather should have been prescribed, that we should employ such diligence in the getting of friends, that we should not at any time begin to love him, whom at any time we might after hate. Yea, besides, if we have not had good hap in the choosing of our friends: yet Scipio thought, that men should bear with that mischance, rather than to seek occasion to quarrel, & fall out.  
These bounds therefore I think are best to be used, that when the manners of friends be well qualefied and honest, there should be among them, a community or participation of all their goods 
Among honest friends all things should be common.  purposes and wills without any exception. As if the case were so, that some dealings of our friends, being not very honest, were to be holpen: which concerned either their life and death, or their fame and credit: we 
Now and then we must not stick to step a little aside to save our friends life or credit.  must strain ourselves a little to step awry, out of the way, so that utter shame and dishonesty ensue not thereupon. For there is a stint, how far Friendship may be pardonable. Neither must we slightly neglect our fame. We must also think, that the good will of the people is no small furtherance to that chievinge 
goodwill of the people.  of any dealings: which with glaveringe & flattery to get, is shameful & dishonest. Therefore Virtue having hearty love following it, is not to be despised. But he, oftentimes (for now I return to Scipio, whose whole talk was of Friendship) complained, that men were in all other things more diligent: as, that every man could tell how many Goats and Sheep he had, but that be could not reckon how many friends he had: and that in compassing and stoaring himself with the one, he bestowed great care: but in the choosing of his friends he was very negligent and reckless: neither that they had any Tokens or Marks whereby to judge what persons were fittest for friendship.  
We must therefore choose such as be Sure, steadfast, and constant: of which sort there is great scarcity: and an hard matter is it to judge of them without trial.  
But we must in friendship make trial: for so friendship precedeth our judgement, and taketh away the power of Trial.  
It is therefore a Wiseman's part, so to stay the vehement earnestness of his good will, even as be would stay his 
Trial of Friends.  race in running: to the intent we may so use our friendships, as men use to assay their horses: making somewhat a trial of the manners of our friends.  
Some many times in a small paultringe money matter, are perceived, 
Money.  how discreditable and unconstant they be. Some again, whom a small portion could not tempt, are in a great Sum known what they are. Now, if there be some men found, which deem 
Money now a days more set by them Friendship.  it a bury beastly thing to prefer money before Freendeshyppe: where shall we find them that do not esteem Honour, Authority, Rule, and worldly wealth, more than friendship? and that when these things be set on the one part, and the Virtue of Friendship on the other, had not liefer choose the first, than this latter? For man's nature is frail & weak to refuse Authority, the which if they may attain unto, (although without having any regard at all of Friendship) they think themselves to be excusable: because they neglected and despised Friendship not without cause.  
Therefore true Friendship is very hard and rare to be found among them 
True friendship hard to befound among great men.  which are placed in Honour, and bear rule in the Common weal.  
For where shall a man find one, the preferreth and setteth more by the honour of his friend, than he doth by his own?  
What? (to let these things pass) how grievous and how painful do many think it, to be partakers of others 
Men are loathe to take part with their friend in trouble  calamities & miseries? whereunto there is none lightly found, that will willingly entre. Albeit Ennius very well sayeth: A sure Friend is tried in Adversity: Yet (notwithstanding) these two things do convince most men of Inconstancy and Lightness: either if in Prosperity 
A faithful friend in weal and woe.  they despise their friends: or if in Adversity they forsake them. He therefore which in both these cases showeth himself a man discrete, constant, & stable in Friendship: him aught we to judge one of the most rarest sort of men, & almost as a God.  
For the ground work of that stableness, & constancy, which we require & seek in Friendship, is faithfulness. For nothing is stable, which is unfaithful.  
Furthermore it is behoveful for us, to 
Choice of a friend  choose such a one to our friend, as is simple and plain, good to agreed withal, and such an one, as will be moved with the self same things that we be: all which things pertain unto faithfulness. Neither can a running head, or 
A running head.  wavering wit ever be faithful. For why? he that is not affected alike with the same things, that his friend is: neither is of the same mind with him, in 
A friend must neither be a tale bearer nor a tale credirer.  matters by nature: can neither be faithful nor steadfast.  
Hereunto must be added, that a friend must neither delight in accusing, nor believe any accusations, being brought unto him: which things do belong to that Constancy, whereof I ere while entreated. And thus, that falleth out to be true, which I spoke of, at the beginning: that Friendship cannot be but among good men.  
For it is the part of a goodman (whom also we may term a Wise man) to observe 
Good men  these two points in Friendship: First that there be nothing feigned nor 
Dissimulation.  counterfeited. For it is more honesty, even openly to hate one, then under a glozing 
An open enemy better than a dissembling friend.  countenance to hide dissimulation: & not only to shifted away and clear his friend of accusations, laid to his charge by any other, but also that he himself be 
Suspicion  not suspicious, thinking always that his friend doth somewhat amiss.  
There must also (besides this) be a certain pleasantness of talk and manners, 
Pleasant talk. Courteous manners.  which is (in deed) none of the worst Sauces in friendship. But lumpish sadness, and sullen sourness must in any wise be abounded. 
Sullenness.   
Certes it hath in it a certain gravity, but Friendship aught to be more at large, more at liberty, pleasant and to all courtesy and gentleness more disposed.  
And here in this place groweth a somewhat hard question, whether new friends (being not unworthy of Friendship) 
Whether new or old friends be better.  aught to be preferred and more set by, than the old: as we use to set more store by young Horses, than we do by old ones.  
A doubt (doubtless) unseemly for a man to stand upon. For there aught not to be satiety of friendship, as there is of other things. The oldest (like old wines) aught to be pleasantest: & true is the old common Proverb, that we must eat many Bushels of Salt together with 
Proverb  those, with whom we shall throughly perform all the parts of Freendeshyppe.  
But new Acquaintaunces, if there be hope that they will (as young towardly shoots, and fructifying buds) 
New acquaintance. Old Familiarity.  bring forth fruit, are not (surely) to be refused: but yet notwithstanding old familiarity must still be continued in his due place and estimation. For the force of ancientness, and Custom, is exceeding great.  
And as touching the Horse (whereof I spoke erewhile) if there be no cause of let to the contrary: there is no man but had liefer occupy him whom he hath been used unto, than one that is strange to him, and untamed.  
And not only in this which is a living Creature doth Custom bear great Sway, but in things also that are 
Custom.  without Life, is it of the like force: For even in Hyllyshe and Wyelde Countries, wherein we have of a long dwelled, we have a pleasure & delight, still to continued.  
But this is a very high point in Friendship, that the Superior is equal with 
A chief point in frendshipp  the Inferior. For there be oftentimes certain pre-eminences: as that was of Scipio, in our fraternity. He never advanced nor preferred himself before Philus, never before Rutilius, never before Mummius, never before his other friends of base calling. But Q. Maximus his brother, a man (doubtless) right excellent, but yet nothing like him, because 
Reverence to our elder.  he was his Elder, he reverenced as his better: and was willing that all his friends should far the better by him. Which thing is both to be done & to be imitated of all men: that if they surmount their friends in any excellency 
A notable lesson  of Virtue, Wit, and Fortune, they should impart the same to their friends, and communicate it jointly with their Familiars: as, if they be borne of base parentage, if they have kinredde of smaller power and ability, either in mind or substance, they aught to enlarge & increase their wealth: and to be an honour and dignity to their estate. As we do read in Fables, of some, which having continued for a certain time in the state of mean servants, because their lineage & Stock was not known, but after that they were known, and found to be the Sons either of Gods, or of Kings, did yet still bear a zealous goodwill towards the Shepherds, whom many years they took to be their own fathers. Which thing surely is much 
Love towards parents.  more to be done towards our true and well known fathers. For then specially is the fruit of all wit, Virtue, & excellency taken, when it is bestowed on him, that is nearest to us allied.  
Even as they therefore which in the familiarity of entire Friendship, be superiors & higher in degree, aught to 
Inferiors, must not repined at their superiors.  abase & make themselves equal with their inferiors: so aught not inferiors to be grieved, if their friends either in wit, state, or dignity, do excel and go beyond them.  
Of which sort, many either are whyninge for somewhat, or else do twighte & upbraid their Benefits, namely, if they think they have aught, that they may say, they have done for their friends, courteously, friendly, and with some pains and cravayle.  
These upbrayders of pleasures, are surely an odious kind of people: which 
Upbraiding of pleasures.  pleasures, he aught to remember, on whom they were bestowed; not he that did bestow them.  
Wherefore as they which be Superioures and of higher calling, aught in 
We aught to remember a good turn.  Friendship to abase themselves: So after a force should Inferiors advance and put forth themselves. For there be some, which make petition unpleasant & irksome, when as they think themselves to be contemned; & not cared for. Which thing happeneth almost to none, but to such, as think themselves worthy to be contemned: which must not only by words, but also by deeds, be reclaimed from that opinion.  
And first, a man must do asmuch for his friend as he is possibly able: & next, as much as that party whom he loveth & would further, is able to discharge. For a man 
A man cannot advance all his friends,  cannot bring all his friends (though he be never in such high authority himself) to honourable advancement: as Scipio was able to make Rutilius Consul: but his brother Lucius he could not. Yea 
Respect in preferment of friends.  admit, that you could prefer your friend to what you lust: yet must there be a respect had, how he is able to discharge the place of his preferment.  
We must also think, that Friendship can not be, but in wits & Ages, thoroughly stayed & fully grown. Neither standeth 
Friendship to be judged at full grown age.  it upon any point of necessity, that they which in their boy's age, fancied others for some common delight which they had together in Hunting, and Tennis play: should still take them as their very 
Playfellows & companion's in youth.  dear Friends, whom they then loved and favoured, because they took pleasure in the same delights, that they themselves did. For so should Nurses, and overseers of Children, by reason 
Nurses. Tutors.  of old acquaintance, challenge very much: who (in deed) must not be neglecttd, or slightly passed upon, but yet are after an other sort to be loved and regarded. For otherwise friendship cannot long continued steadfast.  
For unlike manners pursue unlike delights: the dissimilitude whereof dissevereth Frendshippes'. Neither is it for any other cause, that goodmen cannot be friends, with the naughty and wicked, 
Unlike manners dissolveth Friendship  then for that, there is such great odds, and difference in manners, & affections, between them, as possibly can be.  
It may also be geeven for a good lesson in Friendship, that no man through 
We must not be too fond over our friends against their profit.  a certain intemperate and fond goodwill, do binder (as many times it happeneth) the great profices, that might redound to his friend. For (to come again to Fables) Neoptolemus should never have won Troy, if he wauld have been ruled by Lycomedes (with whom he was brought up, going about with many 
Fond love 〈…〉  tears, to dissuade and hinder him from that journey.  
And many times there happen such great occasions of weighty affairs, that Friends must needs depart one from an other: the which, he that would go about to hinder, because (forsooth) he can not well forbear his company, is both a weakelinge & a Cockeney natured person: and consequently in Friendship is unjust and unreasenable. And in all things, good consideration must be had, both what thou dost 
Requests must be warily weighed.  request of thy friend, and what thou sufferest to be obtained at thy hands.  
There is also sometimes (as it were) a certain calamity or mishap in the departure from friends, even necessary: for now I turn my speech from the famlliarities, that is among Wisemen, to the Friendship, that is among the vulgar 
Vulgar Friendship  sort of people. The faults committed by friends do many times burst out, partly upon the friends themselves, and partly upon strangers: but the infamy & discredit redoundeth to their Friends.  
Such friendships there fore must be salved by less using their company, and (as I have heard Cato say) must by little and little be cleanly shifted of, rather than bluntly and grossly broken, unless there be so apparent evidence of some such unsufferable injury, that we can neither with honesty, neither credit, 
How and when we must give a friend over.  neither any way possible, otherwise choose, but presently to make an alienation and disseverance.  
But if there be a certain change in them of manners and disposition (as commonly happeneth) or if there chance any farring or variance in some point touching the Common wealth (for I speak 
Wariness to be used.  now (as I said a little before) not of wisemen's▪ Friendships, but of vulgar amity's) we must beware, lest Friendship seem not only to be laid aside, but enmity and malice rather to be taken up.  
For there is not a more dishonest thing, then to be at war with him, with whom 
A dishonest part.  afore time thou hast lived familiarly.  
Scipio, for my sake (as ye know) untwined himself from the friendship of Q. Pompeius: and by reason of the Dissension that was in the Common Wealth, was clean aliened from our Fellow in office Metellus. He did both these, discreetly by authority, without 
How cleanly Scipio shifted himself from the Friendship of ij. that had been his friends.  any bitterness or offence of mind, to either party.  
Wherefore we must take no small heed first that no dissension nor falling out among. Friends do happen: but if any such thing do happen, that friendship may seem rather by little and little to go out and quench of itself, then suddenly and rashly to be choked and put out.  
We must also beware, that Friendship turn not into great hatred: out of which, chydinges, railings, and reproachful terms are engendered: which (notwithstanding) if they be any thing tolerable, must be borne withal. And this honour is to be attributed to old Friendship, that the fault is always in him that doth, not in him that suffereth wrong.  
Now, of all these vices and discommodities, 
A good caveat to be remembered.  there is one caveat or Proviso to be considered: which is, that we neither begin to love too soon, ne yet, the unworthy. For they be worthy 
Who be worthy to be loved.  of Friendship, in whom, there is good cause why they should be loved.  
It is a rare thing (for surely all excellent things are rare) & there is nothing harder, then to find a thing which in every respect in his kind is throughly perfect. 
All excellent things are rare.  But many there be, which neither know any thing, that is good in this world, saving that which is gainful: and (like Beasts) 
The common guise of the world now a days.  they love those Friends most, of whom they hope to receive most profit.  
And therefore they do lack that most goodly & most natural Friendship, which is of itself, & for itself to be desired & sought: neither do they show in themselves any example, how great and of what sort, the force of this Friendship is.  
For every man loveth himself, not to th'end to exact any reward of himself, for his tender love towards himself, but because every man is bear unto himself. Which thing if it be not semblably used in Friendship, there can never be found any true friend.  
For he is a friend, which is (as it were 
Who is a friend.  an other himself.  
Now, if these things appear so evident in Beasts, Birds, cattle, fishes, Swine, and other Creatures, both tame and wild, that they have a love to their own selves (for this is naturally engrafted in all living Creatures) and also that they desire & lust after some other of the same kind whereof they themselves be, to company withal, and that with a certain longing desire, and likeness of human love: how much more is the same apparent in Man, by nature? who both tenderly loveth himself, and getteth an other to whom he may so frankly impart his mind, as though of two, he would make (in a manner) but one.  
But most men peevishlye (I will not 
A perverse reckoning  say impudently) would have such friends as they themselves cannot be: & such things do they look for to have at their friends hands, as they themselves do not yield and give unto them. But it is fit, that he himself should first be a 
A friend must be a good man  good man: and then afterwards to seek for another, like himself.  
In such manner of persons, may that Stability of Friendship (which ere while we reasoned upon) be confirmed, when as men joined together with goodwill, shall first rule and master those sensual lusts and affections, whereunto others do serve and obey: and when they shall delight in justice and equity: and the one to undertake and attempt all things for the other: & never the one to request any thing of the other, but that which 
Not unlawful request must be made to our friends  shallbe honest and right: & shall not only lovingly agreed together, and love one an other, but also as it were reverent lie fear & stand in awe one of an other.  
For, he that taketh away reverent awe from Friendship, taketh away the 
reverent awe or modest bashfulness in friendship.  greatest Ornament that is in it. They therefore nozzle themselves with a very pernicious error, which think that in Friendship, the gate is set wide open freely to pursue all licentious lusts and lewdness. For Friendship is geeven 
Friendship an aid to virtue.  by Nature to be an aid to Virtue, and not a Companion to vices: that sigh, Virtue being solitary, & alone, could not reach to those things which are most excellent, yet being combined and coupled with an other, she might attain thereto: which fellowship if either it be or hath been, or hereafter shall hap to be between any, (I say) their fellowship & company is to be accounted (for the attainment of Nature's chief goodness) the best and happiest that can be. 
The right fellowship.  This very fellowship (I say) is it, wherein are all those things, which men do accounted worthy to be desired, as Honesty, Glory, Tranquillity of mind, & pleasantness: so that where these be, there is the life happy: and without these, it 
Happy life.  cannot be happy. Which thing being the greatest and the best thing that can be, if we be desirous to obtain, we must apply ourselves to virtue: without the which, we neither can attain to Friendship, ne any thing else that is to be desired. For who soever (despising Virtue, do think themselves to have friends, do then perceive their own error, when any weighty plunge of necessity 
A wise & sententious counsel  driveth them to try them. And therefore (for it is a thing often to be repeated) a man ought to love, when he hath judged: & not to judge, when he hath loved. But whereas we be in many things much punished for negligence, yet namely & specially in choosing & regarding our friends. For we go preposterously to work, & (contrary to the advise of the old proverb) we overthwartly do & undo, & labour against the grain. For being enwrapped too & fro with business, either through some long familiarity & acquaintance or else through some kindness & courtesies, we suddenly in the midst of our course break of our Friendship, when any small offence ariseth.  
And therefore such careless negligence of a thing so principally necessary is the more to be dispraised. For Friendship 
All men generally agreed that Friendship is most profitable  is the only thing in this world, of whose profitableness all men with one mouth do agreed: albeit Virtue itself is of many men set at nought, and is said to be nothing else, but a bragguery and 
Virtue despised.  ostentation.  
Many which hold themselves contented with a little, and delight in slender fare and homely Apparel, do utterly despise richesse. And as for Promotions, 
riches.  (with ambitious desire whereof some are greatly inflamed) how many 
Promotion.  men be there, which do so much contemn them, that they think there is nothing vainer nor lighter? Likewise, other things which some do even wonder at, and be in love withal, there be very many which esteem even as nothing.  
But of Friendship all men generally have one mind and opinion, aswell 
Friendship, generally praised  those which are called to have dealings in the common wealth, as those that have their whole delight in learning & knowledge of things: and those also which quietly tend their own business. And finally even they which have wholly given themselves over to Sensuality, do think that without Friendship, life is no life: at least wise if they mean any whit orderly to live.  
For Friendship spreadeth (I wots not how) through the life of all sorts of men: 
Every several man's life requireth friendship.  neither doth it suffer this life in any part to be passed without it.  
Furthermore if there be any of that churlish and savage nature, to eschew & hate the company and friendship of all men, (of which stamp and sort we have heard say, that there was one Timon (I know not who) at Athens: yet cannot 
Timon a hater of all company.  he choose, but seek out one, to whom he may vomit out the poison of his ranckred malice.  
And this would especially be judged, if any such thing might happen, that God should take us out from this companying with men, and should place us elsewhere in some wilderness: and there giving unto us abundance and store of all things which nature desireth, should altogether take away & wholly debar us from so much as the seeing of any man: 
All pleasure and plenty without company unpleasant  who could be so stony hearted to abide that kind of life? or from whom would not that same solitariness take away the fruit of all pleasures?  
True therefore is that saying which I have heard our Oldmen tell, (and they 
Solttarines.  of other oldmen afore them) was wont to be spoken by Architas (I trow 
Architas Tarentinus  of Tarento: If a man should climb up into Heaven, and take a full view of the nature of the world, and the beautifulness of the stars: the admiration thereof, would be unto him unpleasant, which would otherwise have been mo●● pleasant, if he had any to whom he● might make thereof relation.  
Thus, Nature loveth no solitariness, and always leaveth unto some thing a● 
Nature loveth no solitariness.  unto a stays which in every freendli●● person is most delightful.  
But although the same Nature d●● by so many signs declare what she m●●neth, and seeketh: what she coveteth and desireth: yet do we (I know not how wax deaf, and give no care to thos● things, whereof we are by her warned.  
For the use of Friendship is sundry and manifold, and many occasions of suspicion and offences be geeven, which partly to eschew, partly to extenuate, and partly to hear, is a Wiseman's part. And this one offence is to be redressed, that both profitableness and also faithfulness in friendship, may be 
We must friendly admonish and chide our friend.  still retained. For friends must often times be both admonished and chidden also. And this is to be friendly taken, when it is done friendly and of goodwill.  
But this is true (I cannot tell how) 
flattery getteth friends  which my very Familiar friend Terence set down in his Comedy, entitled Andria, that Soothing getteth Friends, but truth purchaseth Hatred.  
Truth is galling and grievous, for out of it proceedeth Hatred, which is unto Friendship a rank poison: but Soothinge 
Truth.  or Flattery is a great deal more galling, which by winking at his friends faults, suffereth him still to run on headlong in his wilfulness.  
But the greatest blame is in him, who despiseth the Truth, and is carried by soothing into such inconvenience & naughtiness. Herein therefore we must bestow all care and diligence: first, that our admonishing be without bitterness, & our chiding without spitefulness.  
But in soothing (because I delight to use Terence his word) let there be 
flattery is to be eschewed.  a courteous gentleness used withal, and let all flattery (the egger on of vices) be set apart, which (in deed) is unmeett not only for a friend, but also for any honest man.  
For after one sort do men live with a Tyrant, and after an other sort with 
Truth must be heard.  a friend. But his recovery is to be despaired of, whose ears from the hearing of truth be shut, that he cannot abide to hear that is true, at his friends hands. For right wise is that same saying of Cato: that sharp nipping 
A wise saying of Cato.  Enemies do more good unto some, than those friends, which do seem fawning Clawbacks'. For they sometime, but these never tell the truth.  
And this is a very absurd matter, that they which be admonished, find not themselves aggrieved at that, which they aught but at that which they aught not. They 
An absurd reckoning  be not sorry that they have done amiss, but they take it unkindly to be chidden, where as contrariwise, they aught to be sorry for their faults, & glad of their chiding.  
Therefore as to warn our friend and to be warned again by him is the property of true Friendship: and the one to do it freely, not roughly, tother to 
Propertie of true Frèdshyp  take it patiently and not frowatdlye: so must we make this reckoning, that there is no greater Plague or mischief in Friendship, than adulation, glavering, and flattery. Albe it this vice must be for 
flattery the greatest plague in petition.  many respects noted to be the fault of lewd and crafty persons, speaking all to pleasure, and nothing to Truth.  
But whereas Dissimulation in all things is evil (for it taketh away the right judgement of truth and corrupteth it) yet namely to Friendship it is most repugnant. For it raseth out the truth, without which, the name of Friendship 
Dissimulation.  cannot continued. For sithence the force of Friendship standeth upon this point, that there should be made as ●● were one mind of many: how can tha● be brought to pass, if in one man there be not one, and always alike mind, but divers; changeable, and wa●tringe? First what thing can there be so mutable & so wandering out of course as is the mind of that man, which swayeth not only at every man's fancy and wi●● but also at every man's beck and look? Say who nay? Nay, say I▪ Say● who yea? Yea, say I Finally I have enjoined myself, to hold up all men's sayings with Yea and Nay, as sayeth 
In Eunucho.  the same Terence▪ but he speaketh those words in the person of Gnato: 
Gnato.  which to use in the person of a Friend, were too too much lightness.  
But forsomuch as there be many Gnatolike persons, in estate, wealth, & credit, above others: their flattery 
Hurtful flattery.  is odious and yrckesome, when as authority ioygneth with vanity.  
Now, a flattering Clawback (if good heed and diligence be taken) may even aswell be discerned, and known, from a true friend, as all counterfei●●● and feigned stuff may from things sincere and right. The assembly of the Commons, which standeth most of unskilful and ignorant persons, is won yet to judge, what odds and difference there is between a people pleaser (that is to say a curryfavour, & light person) and between a constant, severe & grave Citizen. With which kind of Flattering, C. Papyrius the Consul, of late stuffed the people's ears, at what time he 
Papyrius.  made a law, for the restoring of the Plebeian Tribunes. We dissuaded that matter. But I will not speak of myself: I will with better will, speak of Scipio. What pythines (good Lord) was there in his talk, what a majesty was there in his Oration? that a man might well have 
Pithy Oration of Scipio.  said, he had been the leader & chieftain of the people of Rome, & not a fellow companion & comoner with them. But you were present there yourselves, and his Oration, is extant & abroad to be had. Therefore the same popular Law was by the peoples own voices disannulled & dashed.  
And to return again to myself: you remember when Q. Maximus the brother of Scipio, and L. Mancinus were Consuls, how popular and people pleasing the law of C. Licinius Crassus touching Priests dignities, seemed to be. For that election & supply of Sacerdotal rooms, was conveyed over to the disposition of the common people: & he was the first of all others, that brought into the place of Pleas, an order, to make any Oration to the people in verse. But yet the Religion of the immortal Gods (I defending the matter) easily defeated that smothing Oration of his, so painted out to the sale. And this was done, when I was Praetor, five years before I was made Consul. Therefore that cause was defended rather by the goodness of that matter 
〈…〉  itself, then by the authority of the Pleader that had it in hand.  
Now if in Stage matters, that is to say, in Popular Audience, wherein feigned & shadowed things be often introduced, yet the Truth prevaileth & beareth away the Bell, if so it be opened and set out accordingly: what aught to be done in Friendship, which is considered and weighed altogether by truth? wherein, except a man do thoroughly (as they say) see into the very bottom of his friends heart, & likewise show his own: be cannot stand upon any sure ground, for trust and trial: nay, he can never love, nor be loved: sithence he knoweth 
They most ●oue flattery, which be flatterers of themselves  not how it is done truly.  
Although this flattery be pernicious and hurtful, yet can it hurt no man but him, that listeneth to it, and is delighted with it. And so it cometh to pass that he most openeth his ears to flatterers, who selfely flattereth himself, & most delighteth in himself.  
Virtue (surely) loveth herself. For she best knoweth herself, and perceiveth 
Virtue  how amiable she is.  
But I now speak, not of Virtue, 
Many would rather seem honest then be honest in deed.  but of the opinion, had of Virtue. For, not so many are willing to be virtuous, as do desire to seem virtuous. These kind of persons doth flattery delight: They, when any glossed speech is used to feed their humour, do streightwais 
Men that set by themselves, are easy to believe flatterers.  think, that the same vain words be a testimony of their praises.  
This therefore is no Friendship, when as the one will not hear the Truth, and the other is ready to lie: neither would the glavering flattery of these Parasites and Trencher Friends in Comedies, be any whit pleasant or merry, if there were not some glorious Soldiers.  
What Sirrah, did Thais give me great thanks? It had been sufficient 
Thraso.  for tother to have answered, Yea sir, 
Gnato  great: but he said: Yea sir, very exceeding great.  
Flattery always increaseth, and setteth out to the most, that thing, which 
flattery of a little maketh a great deal  the party (for whose tooth it was spoken) would have to be great.  
Wherefore although this fawning vanity be most in ure and practice, with them which do to them allure & invite it: yet are the Sager and constanter sort of men to be admonished to take heed, that they be not ensnared & mashed with this kind of fly flattery. For every man can perceive an open Flatterer, except he be a very Sot, or Idiot: but we must very carefully take heed, that this crafty & fly Flatterer do not wind or close himself within us. For he is not easily espied: by reason that even by contrarying one, he many times flattereth: & feigning himself to brawl and chide, doth glaver: & in the end yieldeth & suffereth himself to be vanquished, that he which is flouted to his teeth, may seem to have gotten the victory. And what be astlier thing can there be then that? Which thing, that it may not hap, we must take the more heed: as in the Interlude, entitled Fpicuraeus: Today before almy old foolish Copesmates you have coursed and flouted me very myntonly. For in plays, the persons of old unforcastful & credulous men, are most foolish.  
But my talk (I cannot tell how) is digressed from speaking of the Frendeshippes of perfect men, that is to say, of wisemen (I do mean of such Wisdom as doth seem may be in man) unto slight and tryfelinge Freendeshippes. Wherefore let us return to that which we spoke of, and let us conclude at length upon it.  
I say (O C. Fannius, & you Q. Mutius) 
Conclusion of this matter. Virtue.  that Virtue both getteth, and also keepeth Friendship. In it, is all agreement of things, all stability, all constancy. Who, when she hath advanced herself & showed out her light, & espied & known the same in an other, leaneth herself to that also, and taketh likewise that which is in an other. Whereupon breedeth between each other, an exceeding love and Friendship. 
Amor & Amicitia, ab Aman do.  For both these two words have their names of this word, To love.  
Now, to love, is nothing else, but to bear a goodwill unto him, whom you 
To love what it is  do heartily favour, not for any need or any profit that is sought. Which profit (notwithstanding) springeth out of Friendship, although you have not pursued it accordingly. With this kind of goodwill, we (when we were young striplings) loved those worthy Oldmen. L. Paulus, M. Cato, C. Gallus, P. Nasica, & Tib. Gracchus, father in law to our dear friend Scipio. This Friendship also more evidently appeareth, among Equals and persons of like age, as between me & Scipio, L. Furius, P. Rutilius, & Sp. Mummius.  
semblably also, we Oldmen take great pleasure in the lovingness of young men: as for example, I for my part, am singularly delighted in the familiarity of you, and of Q. Tubero a very young Striplinge, and of P. Rutilius Virginius.  
For seeing that the order of our life and nature is so appointed, that one age must succeed after an other: it is very 
Like delighteth with like  greatly to be wished, that we may live with such, as be our Equals in age: that as we came together into the world, much about one time: so also (as they say) we might keep together, till we pack again out of the world.  
But because the state of the world is fickle and fading, we must always find out some, whom we may both love, and also be of them loved again. For once take away Love, and goodwill: and all pleasantness of life is quite taken away.  
As for Scipio, although he was taken away suddenly from among us, yet 
The fame of a worthy man never dieth  (surely) to me he is still alive, and always shallbe. For I ever loved the Virtue, of that man, which is not extinct: neither is the same plain & apparent before mine eyes only, who all always had the daily feeling of it, but also unto all our posterity, shall it be noble and notable.  
No man shall ever enterprise any worthy attempts, either in courage or hope, which deemeth not the memory or image of this noble parsonage, worthy to be set before him for a Pattern. 
A true friend is the surest possession  I truly among all the things that Fortune or Nature hath bestowed upon me, have nothing comparable unto Scipio his friendship. In it was a friendly agreement between us, concerning the Common wealth: in it, was our conference for our private affairs: in it, was 
Effects of Friendships  my rest, full of delectation. I never offended him (not in the lest matter that could be) that ever I could perceive. I never heard any thing of him that ever went against my mind. One house served us both, one fare and that even common: Yea, not only warfare, but also our travails, voyages, & soiourninge abroad, were alike common.  
For what should I speak of our joinet studies, in always siftinge out & learning of something: in the which, when we were out of the people's sight we bestowed all our leisure and time? The recordation and memory of which things, if they had died together with him, I could never possibly have borne the lack of such a friendly and loving man. But yet these are not extinct. Nay, they are rather nourished & increased by the cogitation and remembrance of them.  
And although I should utterly be bereft thereof, yet very Age itself would bring unto me singular comfort. For I could not very long continued in this languishing case. But all short things aught to be sufferable, although they be great.  
Thus much had I to say concerning Friendship. Now, am I to exhort you, to have Virtue in such price, (without which Friendship cannot be) that (it only except) you deem nothing more excellent, than Friendship.   
T. N.  
FINIS.   

❧ THE BOOK of old-age: otherwise entitled, the Elder CATO: written Dialoguewise, by M. T. Cicero, unto Titus Pomponius Atticus.  

The Preface.  
O Titus, if I ease thee of that pain,  
And heavy care, which doth thee nòw annoy,  
And makes thine heart, full pensive to remain,  
Shall I herein my labour well employ?  
FOR in speaking unto thee (Friend Atticus) I dare be bold to use the same verses, which that worthye* Poet, 
Ennius.  (not greatly wallowing in wealth, but fully fraught with faithfulness) useth in speaking to Flaminius: albeit I am well assured (friend Atticus) that thou art not so disquieted night and day, as Flaminius was: for I do know the moderation, and quiet stay of thy mind. And that thou hast brought home with thee from Athens, not only thy* surname, but courtesy also, and Prudence. 
Because he was called Atticus.  And yet I suspect, that now and then, thou art sore troubled in mind, for the same* matters that I myself am.  
The Consolation whereof is great & therefore 
For the Civil descension.  to be differred till another time. At this present, I thought it best to write some little Treatise unto thee, concerning old-age: because I would have, both thee & myself eased of this heavy burden of old-age, which is common and indifferent to me, aswell as to thee, and hath now either catched hold of us already, or else ere it be long, will come upon us.  
Notwithstanding, I well know that thou dost and wilt take the same modestly, and wisely as thou dost all other things.  
But when as I purposed with myself to write somewhat of old-age, thou camest into my remembrance, as a man worthy of such a gift, which both of us, might jointly and commonly enjoy.  
As for my part I promise' thee, the penninge of this Book, was such a delectation unto me, that it did not only clean wipe away all the encumbrances and discommodities of mine old-age from me: but rather made mine old-age unto me, pleasant, and delectable. Therefore Philosophy can never be sufficiently praised: whose Precepts and Rules, who so ever obeyeth, may pass the whole time of his Age, without any grief or trouble. But of those other points, we have heretofore, and shall hereafter speak.  
And we do attribute the whole discourse, not to Tithonus, as Aristo Chius did, lest as in a feigned Fable the whole Discourse should carry the less credit: but unto Old Marcus Cato: to the end the Treatise might carry the greater Authority. With whom we do introduce Laelius and Scipio, meruaylinge to see him so patiently to tolerate his old-age, and his answer to them again. Whom if thou think more learnedly here to dispute, then in his own works he was accustomed, impute the cause to his skilfulness in the Greek Tongue, whereof it is well known that in his old-age he was very studious,  
But to what purpose, should we make any more words? For all that we have to say concerning old-age, the Discourse of Cato himself shall manifestly declare.   


The Speakers Names.  
Publius Scipio.  
Caius Laelius.  
Marcus Cato.   SCIPIO. 
OFtentimes both I, & my friend Caius Laelius here also, are wont much to marvel at thy excellent & absolute wisdom O Cato, aswell in all other matters: as namely & specially, because I never yet perceived thine old-age to be burdenous unto thee: which to the most part of Oldmen is so odious, that they say they carry a burden heavier than the Mount AEtna.  CATO. 
It is no great hard matter, (Scipio and Laelius) which you seem so much to marvel at. For they that have in themselves no help to live well and blessedly: unto such, every Age is cumbersome: but unto such, as seek all things at themselves, nothing can seem evil, which cometh by the necessity of Nature.  
Of the which sort is old-age principally, whereunto to come, all men do desire, and yet when they have their wish, do accuse it: such is their unconstancy, folly and overthwartness: They say it creepeth upon them sooner than they thought it would. First, who caused them to imagine an untruth? For why doth old-age sooner steal upon Adolescency, than Adolescency doth after Childhood? Furthermore, why should old-age be less troublesome unto them, if they might reach to the Age of eight hundred years than it is when they be but eighty? For the age passed be it never so long, when it is once gone, can with no manner of consolation mitigate foolish old-age.  
Therefore if you be wont to have my wisdom in admiration (which I would God were correspondent to your opinion, and also answerable to my * surname) surely we are in this only 
For Cato by interpretation signifieth a witty man  point wise, because we follow Nature being our best guide, as a god, & obey her. Of whom, it is not like to be true, when all other parts of age are well described & set out, that the last Act of all should (as it were of a drowsy Poet) be negligently handled. But in Age there must needs be some extreme or last End (& as in berries of trees & fruits of the earth) when they come to their full ripeness) a drooping downward and readiness to fall: which every Wiseman must patiently tolerate.  
For what other thing is it, to war 
To resist against Nature, is to keep war against the Gods.  with the Gods, as the Giants did, but to repugn and go against Nature?  LAEL. 
But you shall do a singular great pleasure unto us both, for I dare also in this case undertake for Scipio (because we both desire, & also hope to lyvetyl we be Oldmen) if we might learn a good while before hand of you, by what means we may most easily suffer & bear out our old Age when it cometh.  CATO. 
I will (Laelie) with all my heart fulfil your request, especially if I shall thereby do such pleasure unto you both, as you say I shall.  SCIP. 
Right glad would we be, if it be not too much pains and trouble for you, O Cato, sith you have (as it were run a great race, & made a long journey which path also we must go) to hear & understand what kind of thing that is, whereunto you are already arrived.  CATO. 
I will do herein O Laelie, what I am able: for I have oftentimes been in place where I have heard the complaints of my equals & familiars (for, Like with Like, according to the old proverb 
Like to like.  will keep company & best agreed together) when as C. Salinator, and Sp. Albinus, men of Consular calling, and in manner of the same age that I myself am, were wont greatly to be wail their cases, both because they lacked pleasures, without which, they accounted their life as none: & also because they were despised of those, of whom they had erst been reverenced.  
But in mine opinion, they blamed not that, which was blame worthy. For if the cause and blame thereof, were in old-age, than should the same discommodities, happen also unto me, & to all other elderly men besides: of whom I have known a great mainye, that have lived in their Old age without any whining or complaint: who were well pleased to be loosed and delivered, out of the yoke of their Sensual Lusts: and were never despised of their Friends and acquaintance. But the fault of all this repining, is in the Manners & not in the Age. For discreet & temperate old men, being not stern and churlish, do live in their old-age tolerably and well. But way wardness and inhumanity is unto every Age tedious and irksome.  LAEL. 
It is even so, as you say O Cato: but there will some peradventure say unto you, that your old-age, seemeth unto you tolerable enough, because of your great wealth, riches & dignity: but many cannot have such good hap.  CATO. 
In deed Laelie, that which you say, is somewhat, but all things do not rest therein. As, the report goeth that Themistocles, nippinglye answered a 
Themistocles.  certain Seriphian Paisaunt, objecting, that he had not gotten such great glory, and same by himself, but rather through that renown of his noble country: thou sayest even truth (said he) for neither should I ever have been ennobled. if I had been a Seriphian, neither thou renowned, if thou hadst been an Athenian.  
Which thing may even in like manner be said of old-age. For neither in extreme penury, and want, can old-age be easy, not not to a Wiseman: neither can it be but cumbersome to an unwise person, although he have never so great plenty.  
The fittest weapons for old-age (O Scipio and Laelie) are Arts and exercises of Virtues: which being all the 
Fittest weapons for old-age.  time of man's age embraced, bring unto him, when he hath lived a long while, marvelous fruits & commodities. Not only, because they never forsake or start from him, not, not in the very last push of his age (which surely is a most excellent thing) but also because the Conscience of our former life, well and virtuously led, and the remembrance of our many good deeds, is most pleasant.  
Certes, I being a young Striplinge, did so love Quintus Maximus (even be that recovered Tarento) being an Old man, as though he had been mine Equal and of like Age unto myself. For in that worthy man, there was a certain Gravity, seasoned with Courtesy: neither had his old-age altered his manners: Albeit when I first began to honour & reverence him, he was not very old, but yet prettily stricken in years.  
For I was borne a year after that he had been the first time Consul: And in that year that he was the fourth time Consul, I being a very young man went with him as a Soldier unto Capua: the fift year after that, I was made Treasurer at Tarento: Then I was chosen Aedile, & four years after that, Praetor: which office I bore and executed, when Tuditanus and Cethegus were Consuls. At that time he being a very aged man, was a persuader of the Law 
* By this Law, professors of Rhetorik and pleaders of law might take no money for their labour, but do it of a certes nobleness of mind.  Cincia, touching Gifts and Rewards.  
And be being a man far grown in years, was both a lusty warrior, as though he had been still young, and with his forbearing cooled the courage of Hannibal, being all upon the hoy, like a dapper younker, whose commendation our familer trend Ennius excellently blazeth out, thus:  
One man by protracting the time with delay:  
Hath saved our weal-public and restored it again. 
Ennius.   
For he never forced what ill tongues did say  
So that his country still safe might remain.  
Therefore his renown and illustrious name,  
For ay is enrollde within the Book of Fame.  
What vigilancy and what wisdom used he, when he recovered Tarento? when as in my hearing he spoke these words to Salinator (who after the loss of the Town, fled into the Castle) making his vaunt & saying thus: By my means (O Fabius) hast thou regayned Tarento: * Your Mastership saith even true (qd Fabius) to him again, smile: 
A taunt prettily rebounded back again.  for if thou hadst not lost the Town, I could not have regained it.  
Neither was he any whit excellenter in wars abroad then in peace at home. For being the second time Consul, while his fellow in Office Sp. Caruilius, sat still & would do nothing, he withstood as much as ever he could, C. Flaminius the Plebeian Tribune, sharing out to every one, man by man, against the Authority of the Senate, all the ground called 
Now called Marca Anconitana. Gallia Cisalpina, now Lombary.  * Picaenun & * Gallicum. And when he was Augur, he durst to say, that all those things were with most fortunate luck taken in hand, which were done for the safety and preservation of the common wealth: & that all those things, which were prejudicially attempted against the commonwealth, were unluckily done, and enterprised.  
Many and sundry notable qualities have I known in this man, but none is more to be marveled at, then how Bee took the death of his son Marcus, a noble Gentleman, & one that had been Consul. We have extant abroad an Oration of the praise of that man: which when we read, what Philosopher do we not contemn? 
Praise of Fabius  Neither was he only renowned in the open sight of all men abroad: but domestically within his own doors at home, he was more noble. What profound talk used he? what worthy precepts? what great skill had he in Antiquity? what exact knowledge in the Art of Divination? There was also in him, as in a Roman, very great learning: he perfectly remembered & that by heart could recoumpt all the Wars, aswell Civil and Domestical, as foreign and external. Whose talk and conference I so desirously enjoyed as though I had already divined and guessed that thing, which afterward chanced: that he being dead, there would be none, at whose hands, I might learn aught.  
But to what end speak I so much of Maximus? Truly, because you see that it is an horrible villainy, to say that such an old-age was wretched or miserable.  
But all men cannot be Scipio's or Maximi, to recoumpte what Cities they have sacked? what conflicts they have had, both by Sea, and Land: what wars they have achieved: nor what Victorsouse Triumphs they have solemnized.  
For when a man hath led his former life quietly, uprightly, and laudably, 
Plato died as he sat writing.  his old-age is mild & gentle, such as we have heard that the old-age of Plato was, who in the Lxxxi. year of his age, died as he sat writing. And such, as was the old-age of Isocrates, who is reported, 
Which contained the praises of Minerva her feasts at Athens, wherein all learned men showed forth their Cunning  that he wrote his Book entitled * Panathenaicus, in the ninety & fourth year of his Age, and lived five years after: whose Schoolmaster Leontinus Gorgias, lived fully an hundred and seven years, and never fainted, nor gave over his study and labour which he had in hand. And when it was demanded of him, why he would wish to live so long: * I have (said he) no cause where 
A worthy answer.  by to accuse or mislike mine old-age. A notable answer and worthy to proceed out of the mouth of a famous and learned man. For doltish fools do say all their own faults and blame upon old-age: which thing the Poet Ennius (of whom I ere while made mention) did not.  
As Horse which at Olympian Games, 
Ennius.   
full often hath borne the Bell,  
And won the Price: in aged years,  
now rests himself full well.  
Lo, this man, whom you can very well remember, compareth his old-age, to the old-age of a valiant & Victorious borse. For the ninth year after his Death, these twain, T. Flaminius, & M. Attilius were created Consuls, & he himself died when Caepio & Philip were the second time Consuls, being Lxx. years old (for so long did Ennius live) at which time I being lxv. years old, with a loud voice & earnest suit was a persuader, that the law 
* By this la a man having no Children but daughters, had his limitation how much he aught at his death to be queathe unto them, and all the rest of his inheritance & goods to descend to the next Issue male of his kin.  Voconia might be enacted.  
Thus he carried two such burdens as are supposed the greatest that can be: to wit, Poverty and old-age, and that in such sort, that he seemed in a manner to be highly delighted therein.  
For as far as I do remember I find Four principal causes, why old-age seemeth wretched and miserable. One is, because it impeacheth and hindereth a man from dealing in matters: an other is, because it enfeebleth and weakeneth 
Four causes why old age seemeth miserable.  the body: the third, because it almost taketh away all pleasures: & the fourth, because it is not far of from death.  
Now let us (if you please) see of what force, every one of these causes be, & how just, the allegation of every of them is.  
old-age hindereth, and draweth a man 
* The j dispraise of old-age. old-age is no let or hindrance to a man from dealing in offices or functions in the Common well the.  back (for sooth) from taking a charge or function upon him: from what charge or function I pray you? from such as are by lustiness of youth, & bodily strength acchieved? Are there no things appertaining to Old men, which although their bodies be weak & feeble, yet may by the mind be done, and administered? Did Q. Fabius (I pray you) nothing? Did L. Paulus thy father, O Scipio, & father in Law to that worthy man my Son, nothing? and a great sort of Oldmen 
Grave & wise counsellors the chief stay of a Common wealths.  more. The Fabritij, the Curii, the Coruncani, when they meinteyned and defended the weal public, with their grave counsels, and authorities, did they nothing? Appius Claudius besides, his 
Appius Claudius  old-age, was also blind: yet he when all the Senate was of mind to incline to a peace & league to be made with Pyrrhus, was not afraid to speak those words unto them, which Ennius in his Verses recited:  
How are your minds which erst with wit were fraught  
Thus fond bend to bring all things to nought?  
And much more right gravely: for the Verses are known well enough: And yet Appius his Oration is to be seen, which he made leventeene years after his second consulship: and between his two Consulships, there were ten years, and he had borne the office of Censor before his first Consulate.  
Whereby it is well to be perceived, that in the wars which we had with Pyrrhus, he was a man well stricken in years, & yet have we so heard our father's report.  
Therefore their reasons are nothing worth, which deny that Old age is occupied in exploiting affairs of great importance. And they do much like, unto such as say that the Pilot or Master of a Ship, helpeth nothing in Sailing, when as some climb up into the 
Master of a Ship.  Mast cop, some walk upon the Hatches, & some cleanse that Pump: but he holding the Helm, sitteth quietly in the stern or Puppe: and although he do not the same things, which young men do, yet doth he far better & greater service than they.  
For weighty matters are not done with the strength, nimbleness, and celerity of body, but with counsel, authority & advise: whereof old-age is want not only not to be deprived, but rather the better therewith increased, & stored. Unless peradventure you think, that I who have been both a Soldier, a Tribune, a General, an Ambassador and a Consul, and thoroughly tried in divers brunts of Wars, do now seem altogether to loiter, because I practise not the wars, as I was wont to do.  
But I do prescribe unto the Senate, what things are most expedient to be done, and give certain information to them before hand, how war may be made upon Carthage, which hath borne a cankered stomach a great while towards us: of whom I shall never cease to stand in fear, until I perfectly know it to be utterly subverted.  
Which victorious conquest I pray the Gods immortal to reserve for thee (O Scipio) that thou mayest fully finish & pursue that which thy 
* Who made Carthage Tributary to Rome: & this Scipio utterly destroyed, it.  Grandfather left behind him undone.  
Since whose death, there are passed. 33. years: but the memorial of that worthy man, God grant that all posterity may embrace and receive mindfully.  
He died the year before I was Censor, nine years after my consulship, 
There were always 4. Consuls: 2. in Office for the year present: & the other elected to succeed the next year following.  when he had been created Consul the second time, myself then being Consul. Think you that if he had lived till he had been an hundredth year old, he would have been weary of his old-age?  
I grant he would neither practise Skirmishing, nor nimble leaping, neither tossing the pikes a far of, nor slashing with sword, hand to hand: but he would use grave counsel, reason, and advisement. Which points if they were not in Oldmen, our Ancestors would never have termed their high & most 
The Senate hath his name of Old men.  honourable counsel, by the name of Senate. And among the* Lacedæmonians, they that bore the highest Offices (as they be) so also are they called ancients 
Lacedæmonians.  or Sages.  
Now, if you be disposed, to hear and read foreign Examples, you shall found that noble and flourishing common wealths, have been utterly spoiled by young youthful heads. And the same by Old sage fathers, to have been maintained & recovered.  
Tell me this, how came it to pass that you lost your mighty and noble common wealth in such a short space? for to one that moved this Question (as it is to be seen in the Book of the Poet Nevius, entitled Ludus) many answers were made and namely this: Forsooth, because there stepped into office, new upstart Orators, foolish & light headed Yonckers. Lo, Rashness is incident to youthful years, but prudence and wisdom to old-age.  
But the Memory is impaired. I believe 
Memory not minished in Oldmen.  it well, unless a man do exercise it: or if a man be of nature slow and blockish. Themistocles perfectly knew the names of every person in the City. Do 
Memory of Themistocles.  you think that he, when he grew into years, used to call Aristides, by that name of Lysimachus? Surely I do know not only them that be yet alive, but their Fahers & grandfathers also.  
Neither fear I any whit lest when I read * Epitaphs upon Tombs, I should 
A foolish persuasion that was in people of old time.  (as they say) loose my memory. For by the reading of them, I am brought into remembrance of them that are dead. Neither have I heard of any * Oldman, that ever forgot in what place he had laid up his Treasure. They remember 
Not old man so oblivious, to forget where he layeth his purse.  well enough all such things as they make any account of: their Suretyshippes, & Obligations of appearance at certain days: to whom they be indebted, and who to them.  
What say we to Lawyers? what to bishops? what to the Augurs? what to Philosophers that are Oldmen? How many things do they remember?  
Their wits still remain in oldmen, fresh enough, so that their study & industry continued still. And this not only in noble and honourable personages, but in private and quiet life also.  
Sophocles made Tragedies, even till he was a very Oldman: who being so earnestly vent to his studies, that he was supposed not to take any care of his household affairs, was cited to appear 
Sophocles accused by his own sons, for do tag  before the judges, by his own sons. That, as our manner and custom is, when any Parents do negligently look to their domestical dealings, to sequester and defeact them, from the use of their goods: so also that the judges should displace him from the use and occupation of his own goods, as an Old doting Idiot. Then lo, the Oldeman is said to have openly recited before the judges a certain Tragedy, which he then had in hand, and had lately written, entitled Oedipus Coloneus: and after he had read the same, to have demanded of them, whether they thought that Poetical piece of work seemed to be of any doatinge fools doing? After the recital whereof, he was by all the judges Sentences acquit and discharged.  
Did old-age 'cause this man, or Hesiodus, or Simonides, or Sthesicorus, or (those whom I named afore) Isocrates, or Gorgias, or Homer: or the Prince of Philosophers, Pythagoras: or Democritus, or Plato, or Socrates, or afterward Zeno, Cleanthes, (or him whom you also saw at Rome) Diogenes the Stoic, to be nonsuited, or to quail and fumble in their matters? was not the practice of the studies in all these men, Equal to their life?  
Go too: Let us omit and pass over these divine Studies. I can name unto you, out of the coast of Sabine, husbandmen my Neighbours and Familiars: whom being absent, there is never lightly, any great work of husbandry done in their fields, neither in sowing, in reaping, nor yet in inninge of their fruits. Albeit in them, this thing is not so greatly to be marveled at. For there is no man so old, but thinketh that he may 
No man so old but hopeth to live one year longer.  live one year longer. But they also toil about such things, as they know doth nothing at all pertain unto them. They graff Trees, which shall yield Fruit, after a great while, to them that 
Men must do good for them that come after.  shall come after them: as our Statius in his work, entitled Synephoebis, declareth. Neither would an Husband man (be he never so old) stick to make this aunsweer to one, that should ask him for whom he planteth & soweth: I do it for the Immortal Gods: whose pleasure it was, that I should not only receive these things, at the hands of my Predecessors, but should also surrender & deliver the same again to my Successors. Better a great deal hath Cecilius spoken, of an Old man, labouring & providing for his Sequel and posterity, than he doth in this following: Certes, although old-age when it cometh had none other inconvenience or mishap joined with it, yet is this one enough, that by living long, a man seeth many things, which he would not see.  
Yea, and peradventure he seeth many things, which he is right willing to see. And Adolescency many times happeneth to see such things, as it would not see.  
But this next saying of the same Cecilius is a great deal worse. This also (saith he) do I account in old-age most miserable, because in that Age, a Man doth feel himself to be odious unto others. Nay pleasant rather then odious. For even 
Old men take delight in towardly youngmen  as Wise Oldmen take great delight in towardly and virtuous Young men: & their old-age made a great deal easier, which are reverenced & loved of Young men: so again young men take great 
An Old man's good advertisement, very profitable and pleasant to a young man.  joy and contentment in the good lessons and Precepts of oldmen, whereby they are induced to the studies of Virtue. Neither do I perceive myself to be any whytlesse welcome and pleasant unto you, than you are unto me.  
But now you see, how that old-age is not only not saint, sluggish, nor drowsy, but is rather still busied & ever doing and devising of some what: such things (I mean) as every one his delight hath been unto, in his former life.  
Nay, how say we to this moreover? that they are every day learning somewhat. 
Solon waxed Old, by learning every day somuhat  As we have seen by Solon, who glorying in certain verses, said, that be waxed an Oldman, by learning every day somewhat: as I myself also did: for I learned the Greek tongue when I 
Cato learned thee  was an aged man: which I did so greedily 
Greek tongue when he was an Oldman  rake and snatch unto me, as one desirous to staunch and quench a long thirst: to the intent that I might attain to the knowledge of those things, which you now see me to use for Examples. Which thing when I heard say that Socrates had likewise done in musical Instruments, I was (verily) willing to have done therein semblably: (for men in the old time learned to play upon Instruments) but in Learning (doubtless) I took very great pains, and Diligence.  
NEither do I now any whit more 
The Second dispraise of old-age: alleged by them that say old-age is miserable, because it maketh the body weak and feeble  desire or long to have the lustiness & strength of a young man (for this was that second point of the discommodities belonging to old-age) than I did being a young man, desire or long to have the strength of a Bull, or of an Olyphant. For that thing which naturally is engrafted in man, it is convenient and meet for him to use: & what soever he taketh in hand, to go through stitch with it, & to do it effectuously.  
For what more contemptible word can there be, then that of Milo Crotoniata? who being now old, and seeing certain Champions, & Wrestlers trying themselves, in the place or field of Exercise, is reported, that he looked upon his own Arms, and spoke these words, weeping: Ah 'las, these Arms of mine are now dead. Ah thou prattling 
Milo reprehended because he bewailed his lack of strength in his old age.  Fool: thy arms are not so much dead, as thou art thyself: for thou never gottest any renown of thyself, but by thy strong Sides, and brawny Arms. Sext. AElius never played the like part, nor many years after that, T. Coruncanus: yea of late days P. Crassus, never showed the like prank: by which men, Laws were prescribed to the Citizens: and whose Prudence continued with them, even till the last gasp of their life.  
But I fear, lest an Orator or Pleader, 
another objection  droop and faint in old-age. For why: to his Function is requisite, not only wit, but durableness also, and strength. Assuredly, this same shrillness of voice, doth gallantly shine and appear (I know not how) even in old-age: which I myself have not yet lost, and yet you see my boarye hairs. But yet not withstanding, a quiet and mild Speech is comely in an Oldman: and the very neat and calm talk of an eloquent Sage, doth oftentimes of itself, cause Audience and ear to be geeven unto it.  
Which thing if a man cannot throughly do himself, yet may he instruct and direct Scipio and Laelius. For what 
To instruct & teach youth is a necessary and excellent Function  thing is pleasant than old-age guarded with the zealous affections of young men? Shall we not leave unto old-age such strength and power as to teach and instruct young men, and to train them to know every part of their Duties? Then which office, what can be more excellent? Verily, me thought that C. and P. Scipio. and thy two grandfathers, L. Aemilius and P. Aphricanus were happy and Fortunate, through the attendance and company of young Gentlemen.  
All Masters of Liberal Arts, are 
Learned men.  also to be accounted happy, although their strength be decayed and gone: albeit this same decay and failing of the 
Youth inordinate lie led maketh a feeble & impotent old-age.  strength is oftener caused through the defaults of Adolescency, then of old-age. For libidinous & dissolute Adolescency, bringeth unto old-age, a body feeble and impotent.  
Cyrus' in that talk which he had upon his death Bed, being a very Did man, 
Lusty Old-age of Cyrus.  (as Xenophon writeth) denieth that ever he perceived or felt his old-age, any whit weaker than his Adolescencye was.  
I myself being a Boy, remember that L. Metellus, who was made high bishop four years after his second 
Perfect strength of Metellus in Old-age.  Consulship, and executed that room of Priesthood xxii years, was of such perfect strength in the very latter end of his Age, that he never wished for his Adolescencye again, I need not to speak any thing of myself: albeit it is an Oldmans' part so to do, & allowed unto us, by the privilege of our Age.  
Do ye not see, how often Nestor in Homer maketh vaunt of his own virtues? 
Nestor lived three hundred years.  For he had now lived three men's Ages, and therefore needed not to fear, lest in telling of himself, that, which was true, he should either seem too arrogant or too talkative. For there flowed from his tongue (as Homer saith) words 
Iliad. j Agamemnon.  and reasons, sweeter than honey: unto which sweetness, he needed not any bodily strength, and yet that renowned * General of Greece, never wished to have ten persons like Ajax: but he many times wished to have ten 
Wisdom excelleth strength.  such as Nestor. Which if it might so hap: he doubted not, but Troy should in short time be ruinated. But now I return to myself.  
I am now going on the Lxxxiiii. year of mine Age: and glad would I be, if I might glory and vaunt of that thing which Cyrus did: but yet this can I say, that (in deed) I have not that strength which I had at the * Punic wars, 
Between the romans & the Carthaginians.  or when I was Lieutenant in the same Wars, or when I was Consul in Spain, or as I had iiii. years after, when as I being Tribune or Marshal of the field, fought a Battle at* Thermopylę, 
A mountain in Greece through which is a very straight and narrow passage.  in the time that M. Attilius, and C. Labeo were Consuls. And yet as you see, old-age hath not altogether soaked away my strength, nor weakened me: the Senate house findeth no lack of it in me: the judicial place of Pleas misseth it not: my Friends, Clientes, & Strangers, see no such want in me.  
Neither did I ever assent unto that old and much praised Proverb: which wisheth a man to begin to be Old 
Enough such Cockneyes now a days.  quickly, if he desire to be Old long. But I (truly) had liefer, not to be an Old man long, then to be an Oldman before I were old in deed. And therefore there never yet came any man to talk with me, but I was occupied.  
But (in deed) I have not so much Strength, as either of you twain hath: And again, neither of you have the Strength of T. Pontius the Centurion. What then? is he therefore better than you?  
Let there only be a measurable moderation of Strength, and let every 
Let every man meddle with no more than he can well compass  man attempt so much as he is able to compass: and then I warrant him, he shall not feel himself greatly aggrieved for the lack of his strength.  
It is said that Milo at the famous Games of Olympia, carried an Ox alive, 
Milo carried an Ox alive, upon his shoulders, the space of a furlong.  upon his shoulders, the space of a furlong. Now therefore, whether hadst thou liefer have the bodily strength of this Milo, or the notable fine wit and knowledge, that was in Pythagoras?  
To be short: use & take well in worth this gift of Bodily strength, while it lasteth: and when it is gone, seek not after it to have it again: unless peradventure, you will say, that young striplings should desire to be in their swathing bands and Childhood again: or being somewhat further stepped in years, should wish to be in their Adolescencye again.  
The course of Age is certain, and that 
Every age hath his proper season.  way of Nature is one, and the same simple: and to every part of Age is his due tempestivitie appointed.  
For even as weakness is naturally in young Children: wyeldenes in Youngmen: and Gravity in full consistent age: so is there naturally in old-age, a certain ripeness, which aught to be taken in his due time and season.  
I think Scipio, that you hear what your Host Masinissa doth now days being 90. years old: who, if he begin 
Masinissa king of Mauritani at a worthy and a painful Prince.  any journey on foot, will not in all that journey come on horseback: and when he rideth forth, on horseback, will not alight: no Rain, nor Cold can make him to cover his head: his Body is very dry: and therefore doth he in his own person, execute all the offices and functions that appertain to a King. Therefore Exercise and temperance is able yet to conserve in old-age, somewhat of that former strength, and youthful lustiness.  
In old-age there is no great strength. Why: Strength is not looked for nor required in old-age. And therefore by the 
Objection  Laws and Ordinances, our Age is exempt and dispensed withal, from those affairs, & functions, which cannot without strength, be discharged. And therefore, we are not compelled to do that thing, which we cannot do: nay, we are not charged to do so much as we are able to do.  
But many Oldmen be so weak and feeble, that they are not able to execute 
Objection  any office or function, belonging to human Duty, or respecting man's life. But surely this is not the proper fault of old-age, but the common fault of lack of Health. How wearish & weak, was the son of P. Aphricanus, even he, that adopted thee? what slender health or rather none at all had be? which if it had not so been, he (surely) would have proved the second Light of our city. For besides his father's haughtiness and glory, he was also better furnished with learning & 
Youngmen subject to infirmities aswell as old  qualities of the mind. What marvel is it therefore in Oldmen, if they be sometime weakishe and feeble, sithence even young men cannot escape it? We must resist old-age (O Scipio and Laelie) and the faults that be in it, must by diligence be recompensed. And as we would fight against Sickness, so must we also against old-age: we must have a special regard to our health we must use moderate Exercises: we 
Good lessons to resist Oldeage.  must take so much meat and drink, that the powers of the body may be refreshed, and not utterly oppressed. And not only must we have this special care to our Body, but also to our Soul, & mind much more. For, these also 
The diet of the body, aptly resembled to a Lamp  (unless a man do observe a measure, as in feeding a Lamp with Oil) are quenched by old-age, & entinguished.  
And the Bodies by defatigation and 
Difference between the powers of the mind and the body.  Exercise, decay and grow worse, but the Minds by being exercised, are holpen and bettered.  
For those, whom the Comical Poet Caecilius calleth foolish Oldmen, he meaneth to be such as are credulous, forgetful, and dissolute: which are the faults, not of right old-age, but of such an old-age, as is sluggish, slothful, and drowsy.  
And as malapertness and Sensuality, is more incidence to young men then to Old: and yet not to all young men, but unto such as be not of good disposition: so this Oldmanlye foolishness 
Dotage.  (which is commonly called Dotage) is not in all oldmen, but in them only which be lewd, and of small account.  
Appius being both old & also blind, governed and ruled his four tall Sons, 
Blind Appius a pattern of a noble Gentleman and good householder.  his five Daughters, his family & household, which was great, besides his Patronage of a great maignye of Clientes. He had his mind bend as it were a Bow, and neither did he shrink nor yield to old-age. He reserved and executed not only Authority, but also an imperious commandment over all them, that were under his charge. For his servants feared him: his Children reverenced him: all men tenderly loved him: in that house of his, there was a perfect pattern of the ancient fashion, and discipline of our Country.  
For herein is old-age honourable, if it defend & maintain itself if it still retain his authority, if it be not in Bondage 
What maketh Old age, honourable.  to any man: if even to the last breath, it exercise Rule and Commandment over them that depend upon it.  
For as we commend that Young man, in whom there be some points of 
Youthful old-age.  an Oldman: so also do we praise that Oldman, in whom, there is any of the properties of an honest Youngman. Which 
Old young age.  thing who soever followeth, may be old in Body, but never in mind.  
I am now in hand with my seventh Book of originals: I am collecting all the Monuments of Antiquity: & now am I earnestly busied with penning the Orations of all such famous & notable causes as I have in my time defended. I study the augural, Canon, and Civil law: I give myself much to the study of the Greek tongue: and (as Pythagoras his Scholars were wont to do) to exercise my memory withal, I recoumpt every Evening, all that 
The custom of the Pytha thagorians  I have said, heard, or done, day by day.  
These be the Exercises of the wit, these are the feats, wherein the mind is occupied. In these I paynfullye travailing & studying, find no great lack of the strength of body. I am ready & able to help my friends, I come often into the Senate house, and of mine own accord, I carry thither with me, matters throughly debated and canvased: and them do I defend and maintain with the strength, not of Body, but of Mind. Which things if I were not able in person to execute, yet should I take great delectation lying in my Bed, to think upon those matters, which I could not do. But my age passed is such, that I can do them. For he that giveth himself continually to these studies and labours, feeleth not when, nor how old-age creepeth upon him.  
Thus doth Age, by little and little, & without feeling, wax old, and grow to an end: neither is it suddenly broken of, but by continuance, and tract of time quenched.  
NOW followeth the third dispraise 
The third Dispraise of Olage: alleged  or fault that is found in old-age: because they say it lacketh Pleasures. 
by them that say it is with out all pleasures.  O worthy gift of Age, if it take that thing from us, which even in Adolescency is most beastly. For give ye ear (my good Gentlemen) and mark ye well an Old Oration or discourse of Architas Tarentinus, a right noble and excellent man, which was lent unto me, when I was a very youngman at Tarento with 
bodily pleasure notably inveighed against by Atchitas.  Q. Maximus. He said that there was not any more pernicious plague, ever geeven unto men by Nature, than was this Pleasure of the Body. Which Pleasure, mens libidinous lusts, inordinately desiring, are rashly and unadvisedly incited, and stirred to ensue and follow. Hence (said he) spring all Treasons, & Treacheries against our Country, hence begin all the eversions of Common wealths: hence are hatched all secret conspiracies, and privy conserences with our Enemies. Finally, that there is no villainy, nor any notable enormity, which the inordinate desire of Pleasure did not egg, and incense a man 
Pleasures the Wellspring of all Mischiefs.  to enterprise. And that Whoredom, Adultery, and all such kind of detestable deeds, were by none other lures, & enticements, procured, but by Pleasure.  
And whereas either Nature, or some God, hath geeven nothing unto man, of more excellency, than the mind, 
Dignity of the mind.  or reasonable Soul:, there is no thing so much against this divine Gift and bounty, as is Pleasure. For where Pleasure beareth sway, Tempenraunce hath no place at all: neither can Virtue abide within Pleasure's kingdom.  
For the plainer understanding of which thing, he willed, and bade us to 
A man addicted to pleasure, most un meet for all virtuous actions  imagine & in mind to presuppose some man, so greatly plunged in this bodily Pleasure, as possibly might be: he thought no man would doubt, but that so long as any such man, wallowed in this sensuality, he should neither be able by wit, reason, devise, nor cogitation, to contrive & compass, any thing that were good. And therefore he said that nothing was so detestable & pestiferous as Pleasure.  
For it being great and continuing long, would soon mar, and extinguish all the light of the Mind.  
Nęarchus our Host of Tarento (a man who had still continued in Friendship with the People of Rome) did then tell me, that he had heard his Elders report, that Architas had all this discourse with C. Pontius, the Samnite, father unto him, by whom our two consuls, P. Posthumius, and T. Veturius were foiled & 
A shameful and reproachful overthrow.  overcome in the Battle at Caudium. At which Discourse, Plato of Athens was also present: who (as I find) came to Tarento, when L. Aemilius. and Appius Claudius were Consuls.  
But to what end speak I all this? Forsooth, to give you to understand, that if we cannot by wisdom and reason, set 
old-age qualifieth all ill motions.  at nought and despise Pleasure: yet that we may say Gramercy to old-age, by whose means it cometh to pass that we have no lust to do that thing, which we aught not to do. For Pleasure being a deadly Enemy to Reason, hindereth 
Pleasure and Virtue are contraries.  consultation, and (as I may say) dazzleth & bewitcheth the eyes of the mind, neither hath it any Fellowship with Virtue.  
Sore against my will was it, that I disgraded and displaced L. Flaminius, 
Vice punished without any parciahtie or respect of persons  brother of that right valiant T. Flaminius, out of the Senate, seven years after that he had been Consul: but I deemed it convenient that his inordinate Lust should by such open punishment be accordingly met withal & reproved. For being Consul in Gallia, he was at a Banquet entreated 
A dissolute part committed by Flaminius to fulfil an whores request  by a common Brothel or Courtesan, to behead some one of them, which were in Prison, and condemned to die. He, so long as his brother Titus was Censor (which was next afore me) escaped unpunished: But I and Flaccus could not in any wise allow of such a Villainous and lewd Lust, which besides his own private shame, and reproach, emblemished also the Honour of our Empire.  
I have oftentimes heard mine Ancestors tell, (who likewise said that they had heard the same at Oldemen hands afore) that HUNDRED Fabritius was wont much to marvel: because being Ambassador to King Pyrrhus, be had heard Cyneas the Thessalian, report, that at Athens there was a * certain fellow, 
Epicure.  professing himself to be a wiseman, who affirmed, that all things which we go about, ought to be referred unto Pleasure. Which tale, M. Curius, and T. Coruncanus hearing him report, were wont to wish that the Samnites, and King Pyrrhus himself, were fully persuaded to believe, and creedite the same: to th'end they might be a great deal more easily vanquished, when as they once addicted themselves wholly to Pleasures.  
This M. Curius. lived with * P. Decius, 
This man valiantly died in the defence his Country.  who in his fourth consulship, five years before the other was Consul, voluntarily offered himself to death for his Country. Fabritius knew him well, and so did Coruncanus: who aswell by their own lives, as by the deed of this P. Decius (whom even now I named) judged that there was something naturally good and excellent: which was to be desired, even for itself, and which every good and virtuous person (abandoning & concemning pleasures) aught to ensue.  
But, to what end speak I so much of Pleasure? because (forsooth) it is not only no Dispraise at all, nay rather a most high praise & commendation for old-age, because it greatly careth not, for any Pleasures. It lacketh dainty fare, curious dishes, and sundry drinckes. It 
Objection  therefore lacketh Drunkenness, Indigestion, and fantastical dreams.  
But if we must needs yield some 
Hard to resist pleasures allurements  what to Pleasure, because we cannot easily withstand her allurements (for the Divine Philosopher Plato calleth Pleasure, the Bait of all Mischief, because men are ensnared & caught therewith, as fishes with the Hook) I say all though old-age lack imoderat glutting 
Moderate Banqueting commedable and tolerable for Old-age.  cheer, yet may it be delighted in moderate Banqueting.  
When I was a Boy, I oftentimes saw C. Duillius, the Son of M. even he that first vanquished the Carthaginians by Sea) being an old man, coming home from Supper. He loved many times to have a Torch or Lyncke carried before him, and a Musician also playing: which example or precedent, no private person before him ever showed: his Glory & renown emboldened him so far, licentiously to deal. But what speak I so much of others? Now come I again to myself. First I always had Company & fellowship. And fellowships were first instituted when I was Treasurer, at such time as we received the sacred Rites of the Ladye* Great mother of the Gods, out of 
Cybele  Phrygia.  
I banqueted therefore with my Mates, but yet always moderately. But there was in me then, a certain galantise and heat of Age: which Age growing 
banqueting and making merry with honest company.  forward, all things are every day, more and more qualified. For I never measured my delight in those Banquets, for any pleasures of the body: but rather for the Company sake and talk of my Friends, and well willers.  
And therefore our Ancestors did very well, in terming a feasting assembly of Friends (because it bathe a conjunction of living together) by the name of Conuivium: a great deal better 
Conuivium  then do the greeks, who call the self same thing, sometime a * Compotation, 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  and sometime a * Concenation: wherein they seem to allow of that, which in this kind, is lest of all to be made account of.  
Verily I do take delight in seasonable Banqueting, even for the delight that I take in the talking & conferemece: and not with my Equals only, who are now very few, but with your Age also, & even with you yourselves. And I heartily thank old-age, for that, it hath increased in me a greediness of talk, and taken away the desire of Meat and Drink. Now yet, if any man take special delight in these things (because I 
Oldage not altogether without vulgar pleasures.  will not seem altogether to be at open war and defiance with Pleasure, whereof there is peradventure a certain measure Natural) I do not perceive that old-age lacketh a fruition and feeling, not not in these Pleasures themselves. The Prerogatives, and superiorities at Feasts, instituted by our Ancestors, do wonderfully content me: and those points or cases, which by an ancient custom among our Elders, are propounded at the Table by the chief Master of the feast: and the Cups as in Xenophons Treatise, entitled Symposium) 
Xenophon  pretty, small, and cleanly rynsed: & in Summer season a pleasant cooling, & likewise in Winter, either the warm Son, or a good Fire, is unto me singular delight. Which things when I lie at my Manor of Sabine, I am usually wont to put in practice: and every day I thoroughly furnish my Board with my Neighbours: where we pass away the time together in talking of many and sundry matters, even till it be far in the night.  
But there is not so great tickling, & 
Objection.  as it were an itch of Pleasures in Old men. I believe it well: nay, there is not so much, as any desire thereto. For nothing is grievous or beavilye taken of a man, which he neither desireth nor careth for.  
Very well did Sophocles answer a certain man, which asked him being 
Sophocles answer touching carnal cocupiscence  now greatly stricken in years, whether he used Venereal act or Carnal company with women? God forbidden (que he) that I should use any such thing: for I have willingly renounced and fled from all such lasciviousness, as from a beastly and furious Master.  
For to them that are desirous of such things, the lack and want thereof is peradventure odious and grievous. But to them which are fully glutted, and satisfied therewith, it is more pleasure to want, then to have them: how be it, he that forceth not for a thing, lacketh 
He that careth not for a thing, cannot be said to lack it.  it not. And therefore not to care for it, I say, is greater pleasure, then to have that fruition of it.  
Now if youthful Age, delight & enjoy these foresaid Pleasures, the reason is, first because it is more willing to ensue small matters, & of light importance, as afore we have said: and afterwards such things as old-age, if it fully enjoy not, yet doth it not altogether lack.  
And like as he which sitteth upon the first and chiefest Bench, doth better behold and is more delighted to see* Ambivius Turpio: 
An excellent player of Comaedies and counterfeicter of men's gestures.  and yet is be also delighted, which sitteth upon the hyndermost and last Bench of all: even so Adolescency more nearly beholding Pleasures, doth perhaps more frolicklye delight, and joy in them. But yet old-age beholding the same aloof and far of, hath as much delectation therein, as is sufficient.  
But what a singular commodity is this, that the Mind being as it were freed, and worn out of the service & thraldom of Sensuality, Ambition, Contention, quarreling, and all filthy Affections, keepeth itself within his bounds, and liveth (as the Proverb saith) with itself? But if it be furnished & as it were nourished with the food of some Study and learning: then truly is there 
What old age is plesauntest.  nothing more pleasant than is a quiet old-age.  
We saw C. Gallus, the Familiar 
C. Gallus  Friend of thy father, O Scipio, continually to apply, and as it were to die, in 
Oldman studious  his earnest study of measuring of Heaven and* Earth: How often hath that next 
Astronomy.  Morning, come upon him ere he had fully finished that thing which he had begun 
Geometye.  to describe the night before? How often did night surprise him, when as he had begun any thing in the morning? What a singular delight was it unto him, when as be long before prognosticated, and foretold unto us, the Eclipses, both of the Sun and Moon? What diligence bestowed he in lighter matters and of less importance, but yet very quick, and witty?  
How greatly did Naevius rejoice in 
Naevius.  his Comedy, called the Punic Wars? How joyed Plautus in his Comedy Truculentus? How in his Pseudolus? 
Plautus   
I also, saw old* Livius, who having set forth a Comedy, seven years before 
Livius Andronicus  I was borne, when Cethegus, and Tuditanus were consuls, lived fill I was a pretty Stripling.  
What should I speak of the profound study of P. Licinius Crassus, 
Licinius Crassus.  both in the Canon, and also in the civil Law? Or of this our P. Scipio, who was this other day created high 
Scipio.  Priest? But yet all these whom I have named, we saw to be Oldmen, & most earnestly inflamed with these kind of studies.  
As for M. Cethegus, (whom Ennius doth very well term the Marrow or Pythias of Lady * Suada) how studiously 
The God desk of Eloquence and gallant speech called in Greek Pitho.  did we see him busied in Oratory, being even an Oldman.  
What Pleasures therefore of banquets, or Plays, or harlots, are comparable to these Pleasures? And these are the studies of learning, which in men of wisdom, and good inclination do grow, even as they themselves do, in Age: so that, that saying of Solon is verified, which he uttered in a certain Verse, as before I have declared, That 
We wax older by being wiser.  he waxed older and older by learning every day more and more. Then which Pleasure of the mind, there can none (doubtless) be greater.  
I come now to the Pleasures which Husbandmen have, wherewith surely 
husbandry.  I am incredibly delighted: which neither are impeached, nor hindered with any old-age, and in my fancy, do approach nearest unto the life of a Wiseman. For their dealing & trade is with the Earth, with never refuseth to be under their commandment & subjection: and ever repayeth that which it afore received, with asurplusage & usury: albeit sometimes with less, but for that most part with greater gain & increase. Albeit (in deed) not that fruits only, but that power & nature of the Earth itself, is it, with delighteth me: which when it hath received that Seed cast upon it, into her lap, being by tillage well ploughed, & manured, doth first for a time keep it closely covered over with barowing, with is thereupon called Occatio: and afterwards being warmed with moisture, & her therishment, she maketh it to sprout and shoot up. & bringeth out of it a green blade, which being strengthened & stayed with the small strings at that rote of the stems doth by little and little, grow up to a convenient bigness: and standing upright upon a knotty straw full of joints, is, when it draweth toward ripeness, enclosed within Husks. Out of the which when it peepeth, it bringeth forth the corn handsomely set in thorder of an Ear: and to save it from being pecked out by small Birds, it is rampyered & fenced with a Trench or Wall of the Awnes, or Beards.  
What should I speak of the Graffinge, springing up, and increase of wines? I cannot be enough delighted therein: because I would you should know the quietness and delectation of mine Old-age. I do omit the force and Virtue of all these things, which the Earth bringeth forth: how, out of one poor kernel of a Fig, or out of one silly grain of a Grape, or out of the smallest seeds of other Fruits and plants, it doth procreate and bring forth, such great Bowls, and Stems. The small twygs, the Gryftes, the Stalks, the plantable wines, the plaited stays, for them to run along upon, & the old Wine stocks, do not these cause any man to delight therein with a kind of admiration?  
The Vine which naturally is falling, if it be not under propped, & shoared up, lieth flat upon the ground: but the same, to raise up itself, claspeth and with his tendrils (as it were with hands) holdeth fast what soever it catcheth. The which creeping and spreading itself sundry ways, that Husbandman's skilful Art, doth with his pruning tool restrain and cut of, lest it should with superfluous Branches, be over grown & spread too much every way.  
And therefore at the beginning of the Spring, in that which was left at the joints where those twigs were cut of, there sprouteth out a young Burgen or Bud: out of the which, the Grape coming forth, doth show itself: which 
Buds.  increasing in bigness, partly with the moisture of the Earth, and partly with the heat of the Sun, is at the first very bitter in cast, but afterwards being ripened, waxeth sweet & toothsome: and being clad and shrouded with leaves, lacketh neither moderate warmth, and also defendeth the too much parthing heat of the sun. Then the which what thing can there be, either for the fruit, pleasanter, or for the Eye, gorgeouser and trimmer? whereof, not the profit only, (as before I said) but that manuraunce and the self nature of the thing highly delighteth me. The orders of the shores or props, the tying & binding them together at the tops, the shreadinge of the old Vines and the superfluous Branches (which before I mentioned) and the placing of others in their steeds.  
To what end should I rehearse the watering of the plants, the Dygginge and new renewing of the ground, whereby the Earth is made a great deal ranker and fruitfuller? What 
Dygging  should I speak of the profit that cometh by the Dunginge and Compostinge of Land? I have said sufficiently 
Dunging  of it, in that Book which I wrote of Husbandry: whereof the Learned Hesiodus in his Work which he wrote of tillage, spoke never a word? But Homer who was (as I take it) many hundredth yeaces before him: introduceth and maketh Laertes, longing 
Odyss. ●  and languishing for the absence of his Son, as an Husbandman, tilling yea & Dunging also of the ground.  
Neither are Husbandlye affairs 
Sundry delights of husbandry.  only delectable and plentifully stored with green Corn, Meadows, Vineyards and Copsees: but with Orchards also and gardens, Grasinge of cattle, Swarms of Bees and variety of all sorts of Flowers. And not only Planting, but Engraffinge 
Planting Graffinge  also is delightful, which are as witty, and as fine posates, as any be in husbandry.  
Many delights of Husbandry can I reckon up: but I suppose that these which I have already named, be unto you somewhat tedious. But you shall pardon me: for that great goodwill with I bear to Husbandry, hath carried me somewhat far in the discourse thereof: and also old-age is by nature, talkative and geeven to many words: because I will not seem to clear it from all faults.  
And therefore M. Curius after he had 
Noblemen have delighted to spend their time in husbandry  triumphed over the Samnites, and Sabines, and over Pyrrhus, spent the later end of his Age in this kind of life. Whose Farm or country House, as often as I behold (for it is not far from mine) I cannot but greatly wonder to consider either the continency of this noble Gentleman, or the Discipline that was in those days.  
For upon a time the Samnites bringing unto this Curius sitting by the fire a huge sum of Gold, were by him 
A noble answer of a worthy man Enemy to all bribery.  put back and rejected; saying, he thought it more honourable to have dominion and to be Lord over them that be full of Gold, then to have Gold himself. Could such a Noble mind otherwise choose, but lead a pleasant old-age?  
But now come I again to Husbandmen, because I reckon myself one of their order and fellowship. Senators, that is to say, Sage Seniors and Did 
Senator's Oldmen.  men, were in those days Husbandmen. For as L. Quintius Cincinnatus was 
The highest office in the common wealth called also the Master of the people: & for the time had the office of a king.  holding the Plough in the field, news was brought to him that he was made Lord * Dictator. By the commandment of which Lord Dictator, the master of the Horsemen, C. Servilius Hala, slew Sp. Melius a spiring to be king, and going about by intrusion to get the Crown.  
Out of their Fermes and Country Houses, was Curius, and many other Oldmen sent for, and called into the Senate: whereupon they that went to Summon 
Noble councillors chosen out of the country.  and call them were named * Viatores, pursuivants, or common Messengers. Was therefore the old-age of these men miserable, which thus delighted in tillage and husbandry? 
Couriers or pursuivants.  Certes in my judgement. I doubt whether there can be any blessedder life than this is: and not only for common Duties sake, because Tillage is expedient and commodious for all sources of men in general, but also for the delectation (which I speak of) and for the plentifulness and abundance, which both for 
In Husbandry is both profit & pleasure.  the sustenance of men, and honour of the Gods are requisitely belonging. And sithence some do desire this, let us now reconcile ourselves unto Pleasures.  
For a good and substantial Husband hath always his Cellors for Wine, Oil, Honey, and household provision, well stored, and his whole House well furnished. He hath store of Hog, kid, Lamb, Hen, Milk, Cheese and Honey.  
Now, Husbandmen themselves do call and term a garden, by the name 
Hortus altera Succidia.  of an other Larder: and Hawkinge and hunting being superuacuous & vain exercises, doth season the same things a great deal better, and maketh them more toothsome.  
What should I speak of the green verdure and hue of Meadows, of the orderly setting of Trees, or of the goodly beauty, and fashion of their Vineyards, and Olyveyardes?  
I will in few Words declare my mind. I say there can be nothing, either profitabler for use, either ttymmer for show, then is Ground, well manured and tilled: from the fruition whereof, old-age doth not only not hinder a man, but also rather inviteth and allureth him thereunto.  
For where may that Age better, yea or so well, warm itself, either by sitting in the Sun, or by a good fire: or concrarye wise as the Season of the year serveth, be so holsomlye cooled either in shady places, or pleasant waters?  
Let younger folks therefore take to themselves their exercises of deeds of 
Exercises for Young men.  Arms, of Horsemanshippe, of tossing the Pike and Spear, of handling the Club, and Ball, their Practice of swiming and running: to us oldmen, of many other Games let them leave the Tables, and Chess, 
Disports for Old men.  (yea and that no further than a man is disposed) because old-age without these may be happy.  
The Books of Xenophon are very 
Xenophon his book of Household.  profitable for sundry purposes, that which (I pray you) viligently peruse & read, as you do. How copiously doth he praise Husbandry in his book of Household, entitled Oeconomicus? And that you may well understand how that nothing seemeth unto him so Princely and fit for a King, as is the study of tillage and practise of husbandry, he introduceth Socrates in that Book, reasoning with Critobulus, and telling him that Cyrus the younger, King of Persia, 
Cyrus.  (a Prince both for profoundness of Wit, and for glorious Soveraigntye of Empire, renowned) when as Lysander 
Lysander  the valiant captain of the Lacedæmonians, upon a time came unto him at his City of Sardis, & had brought unto him from his confederates and friends certain Presents and Rewards, did show himself in all points generally courteous and friendly towards the said Lysander, and namely that he showed unto him a certain enclosed field set and planted with Trees right orderly.  
Now when Lysander had thoroughly viewed, and with admiration beheld both the height of the Trees, and the exact order, precisely observed in the placing and setting of them in a perfect * Quincuncie, the ground well manured and pure withal, and the sweet 
When Trees are so exactly set, that which way so ever a man look they stand directly one against another.  smells which the flowers yielded: he told the king, that he wondered not only at the diligence, but also at the fine wit of him, by whom those things were measured out and described. Unto whom Cyrus thus answered. It is even I myself, which have by measure planted and set these Trees: the order of the Rows wherein they stand, is my only device, and no other man's: the platform also & the description hereof is mine: yea many of these Trees were planted and set with mine own hands. Then Lysander well eyinge his purple rob, and the rich Apparel of his Bodies, and the rest of his gallant Braverye after the Persian guise, wrought & garnished with much Gold and many precious Stones further said this: Now do I well see (O Cyrus) that for very good cause, thou art reported a Prince, Fortunate: because unto thy Virtue, Fortune also is 
Virtuti Fortuna comes.  conjoined. This therefore may Old men lawfully enjoy. Neither is age any such let or Obstacle, but that in other things also, and namely in husbandry and tillage, we may continued our Practice, even till, the last point of our old-age.  
We have heard say, that M. Valerius corvinus lived till he was an 
Valerius corvinus  hundredth years old: and that when he was very aged, he dwelled in the Country, and fell to tilling of his Land.  
Between whose First and sixth consulship, there were Forty and sixth years. Therefore so long time of Age, as our Ancestors appointed & would have to the beginning of old-age, did he bear Office and Authority 
Authority the chiefest honour and ornament of old-age  in the Common Wealth. And herein was his extreme and last Age blessedder than his middle age, because it was honoured with more Authority: and of Labour and Travail had less than afore.  
The highest Title and Honourablest perfection of old-age, is Authority. O, how great was it in L. Caecilius Metellus? how honourable in Attilius Calatinus? whose Praise and commendation is sounded out in this Honourable Testification: Many Nations with one mouth do agree, that he was the chiefest man of all the City. The Epitaph that was engraven upon his Tomb is well known. worthily therefore and by good right was he called a grave parsonage, of whose Praises all men by one consent gave so good a report generally.  
What a worthy man saw we P. Crassus, of late the high Bishop to be? what a noble fellow was M. Lepidus, who afterwards was in the same Office of Priesthood? What shall I speak of Paulus or Aphricanus, or (as afore) of Maximus? not only in whose discrete Counsels & Directions, but also in whose becks there rested Authority?  
old-age (namely that, which is reverenced and honoured) hath so great 
What manner of old-age is commendable  Authority, that it is much more worth than all the Pleasures of Adolescency.  
But in all this my discourse, remember ye, that I praise that old-age, whose foundation was laid and grounded in Adolescency. Whereupon that, which I with all men's well liking have so often spoken, is verified: That the old-age which defendeth itself only with talk, is miserable.  
It is not the grey hairs, nor the wrinkled face, that straightways can bring Authority & Estimation: but a former life virtuously and honestly spent, yieldeth the fruits of Authority in the end. For these things which seem light and of small account, are (in deed) very honourable: to be saluted, to be desired into company, to have the wall geeven, to be reverented and risen up unto, to be waited on, home & from home, and to be sought unto for counsel: which things both among us, and in all other well governed & nurtured Cities also, are most diligently observed.  
The report goeth, that Lysander (of 
The best dwelling for Old age was at Lacedaemon.  whom I ere while made mention) was wont to say, that, The honestest Lodging & honourablest Mansion for Old age to devil in, was in Lacedęmonia. For in no place else in the world, is so much reverence showed to Age as there: in no place is Oldeage more honourable.  
It is also left in written Histories, that 
Great reverence among the Heathen showed to Old age.  a certain Elderly man coming into the Theatre at Athens to see a Play, had no room at all allowed unto him, to sit in, among his Countrymen in that great assembly: who afterwards coming to the Lacedæmonians (which were there at that time Ambassadors, and in respect thereof had a place accordingly appointed them where to sit) it is said that they all arose, and received the Oldman to sit among them.  
Whereat when as all the whole assembly for joy, a great while together clapped their hands, it is reported that one of the Ambassadors spoke these words * The Athenians know what is honest, but to do the same, they will 
Too many of the same stamp now a days.  not.  
Many excellent good orders have we in our College: but namely this, that as every one is in Senioritye and Eldership of Age, so hath he a prerogative to utter his mind first. For the Ancient and Aged Augurs are preferred and esteemed, not only before them which be in higher Office than they: but before them also, which bear the chief Sway, Authority, and Office, in the Weal Public.  
What bodily Pleasures are there comparable to the rewards and advance mentes of Authority? Wherein who so ever have honourably behaved themselves, they in mine Opinion have notably well played the pageant of their Age: and not like bungling Stagiers, in the last Act of all, to have fumbled and geeven it over in the plain field.  
But many Oldmen be wayward, 
Objection  careful, testy and ill to please: and if we throughly siste the matter, covetous 
Faults of manners & not of age  and nygardlye also. But these are the faults of Manners, & not of old-age.  
But yet this way wardness, and the other faults before rehearsed, have some colour of excuse, which although not just & rightful, yet such as seemeth may be allowed of.  
They think themselves to be contemned, despised, flouted and mocked: and furthermore in that frail body of theirs, every small Offence is odious & captiously taken. All which (notwithstanding) through good manners & disciplines are qualified and sweetened: which to be true, may be perceived aswell by the common course of Man's life, as also by the two Brothers in the Comedy Adelphi. What churlishness 
Terence.  & rude behaviour is there in the one? what gentleness and courtesy in the other? The case standeth even so. For as every Wine by Age is not soured into Vyneiger: so neither is every Old-age crabbed and elvish.  
Severity in old-age I well allow, but 
Severity in measure allowable in Oldmen  yet (as I do of all other things) measurable: but spiteful bitterness I can not in any wise broke nor away withal.  
And as concerning Covetousness in oldmen, I am nothing acquainted 
Covetousness in old-men.  their with, neither understand I what it meaneth. For can there be any thing more absurd, or more repugnant to reason, than the less way that a man hath to go, the more provision and costage to make and purueighe?  
THE fowerth cause which seemeth most of all to grieve & disquiet our 
The iiii. dispraise of Old-age surmised by them  Age, remaineth yet behind to be discussed: & that is, the nearness of Death: which (certes) cannot be far of from old-age. O miserable old Caitiff, which 
which say it is miserable because it is near unto Death  in so long a time as he hath lived, hath not perceived and learned that Death is to be contemned: which either is utterly to be despised, if it altogether kill and extinguish the Mind or 
Death not to be feared: & the reasons why  Soul: or else is greatly to be desired, if it conduct and carry the same to some place, where it shallbe eternal. For (certes) there can no * third be found.  
Therefore what should I fear, if after 
For either the Soul liveth or else dieth  death I shall be either not miserable, or else blessed? howbeit who is so foolish, to a warrant himself (although he were never so young) that he shall live till the next evening?  
Furthermore that same Age is subject to a great maigny more casualties of 
Youngmen more subject to sickness than Oldmen  Death then our Age is. Youngemen sooner fall into Sickness: they are sorer sick, and are hardlyer recured: & therefore few live till they come to Old-age: which if it were not so, we should live together a great deal better and wiselyer. For Discretion, Reason, and wise Advice resteth in Oldmen: and therefore if there were no Oldmen, 
Common wealths & City's governed and maintained by Oldmen.  there would be no Cities at all. But now come I again to talk of imminent Death.  
What fault of old-age is this, sithence you see that same also common to Young age? I myself by proof have felt, aswell in that worthy man my Son, as also in thy Brothers (Scipio) of whom great hope was generally conceived to have seen them advanced to most honourable 
Death spareth no Age.  Dignities, that Death is alike common to all Ages.  
But a Youngeman hopeth to live a great while: which an Oldman may 
Objection  not look to do. He (truly hopeth foolishly. For what folisher thing is there, 
Answer  then to account things uncertain for certain, and things false for true?  
An Oldeman hath nothing to hope for. But he is therefore in far better 
Objection  case than a Youngeman: because 
Answer  he hath already enjoyed and obtained that, which the Yongmanne doth 
Old men have already enjoyed that  but hope for. The one desireth to live long: the other hath already lived long. Howbeit (O Lord) what is 
which young men do but hope for.  there in Man's life, long, or of any lastting continuance?  
For admit and grant, that we live even till the uttermost of our Age. Let us hope to live as long as ever 
Argantonius lived 120. years  did the King of the Tartessians. For there was (as I find in Histories) one Argantonius Prince of the Isles called Gades, who reigned Fourscore years, and lived an hundred and twenty.  
But to me, there seemeth nothing long. wherein is any Extreme, or End. For when that End is once come, then is that which is passed, quite gone: and nothing remaineth but only that, which a man hath by his Virtues and good deeds achieved.  
Hours pass away apace, and so do Days, Months, and Years: neither doth the time once passed ever return: neither can that, which is to come, 
Time passeth  be precisely known.  
Therefore, every one aught to be contented with that time, which is granted him to live. For neither needeth a Stageplayer, necessarily to play out the Interlude, till the very last end thereof, 
We must have a greater care to live well then to live long  to be commended therefore: but in what Act soever of the same he be, he must so handle his part, that he may be praised: neither should a Wiseman live till the Plaudite be stricken up.  
For a short time of Age is long enough to live well and honestly. But if you continued yet longer, you must no more be discontented thereat, than Husbandmen be, after the pleasantness of the Spring season once passed, to have 
Spring  Summer & Autumn to succeed. The Spring doth signify and represent (as it were) Adolescencye, & showeth what Fruits are like to ensue. All the other times and seasons, serve to mow & gather in, the fruits.  
Now, the fruit of old-age is (as before I have often said) the remembrance and store of Goods, before time gotten. And all things which are done according 
Fruits of old-age.  to the course of nature, are to be reckoned in the number of good things. And what is so agreeable to Nature, as for Oldmen to die? which thing happeneth unto Youngemen, even Maugre Nature's Goodwill.  
Therefore young men seem unto me so to die, as when a raging flame of fire 
Youngmen have greater pain in dying then Old-men.  is with the great quantity of water quenched. And Oldmen decease, even like as Fire, when it is all spent, is extinguished of it own accord, without using any force thereto. And as Apples when they be green and unripe, are plucked from the Tree with violence: but being ripe and mellow, they fall down from the Tree: even so, violent force and painful strugglinge, taketh away life from young men: but from Oldmen, a ripeness and maturity.  
Which is to me so pleasant and comfortable, that the nearer I draw to Death, the sooner me thinks I do (as it were) see that land, & shall at length after a long Navigation, arrive at the Haven.  
Of all other Ages, the certain term is appointed how long each lasteth: but of old-age there is no certain term limited: 
old-age hath no certain number of years a pointed how long to last.  and in it doth a man live well and laudably, so long as he is able to execute and discharge his duty and Function: and yet to contemn Death.  
Whereupon it happeneth that old-age is endued with greater Courage and animosity, than Adolescency and Youth is. 
old-age stout and full of courage.  And this is it that was answered by Solon, unto Pisistratus the Tyrant, demanding of him, upon what hope 
Solon's answer to Pisistr atus the Tyrant.  and confidence, he durst be so bold & presumptuous, so desperately to withstand and disobey his proceedings? Even upon the hope (quoth he) of mine old-age.  
But the best End of living is this: when as (the mind being whole and perfect, and all the wits and Senses sound & unappaired) that same Nature with compacted and framed the work together, doth likewise dissolve and lewse the same. For as the Ship wright which made the Ship, best knoweth how to undo and pull asunder the same again: and as none can better unjointe down a house, than the Carpenter that framed it: even so, Nature which joined and fashioned together the Body, doth best dissolve and end the same.  
For every Conglutination or glewinge, when it is new glued together is hardly pulled asunder, but being old and forworne, is easily dissevered.  
Thus, it cometh to pass, that this 
It is a wicked thing for a man to murder or kill himself.  small remnant of life, is neither gredilye to be desired of Oldmen, nor without cause to be left and forsaken. And Pythagoras chargeth us, not to departed out of the Garrison, and Wardhouse of this life, without the commandment of our high General, which is God.  
There is a notable saying of the Wiseman Solon, wherein he protesteth, that he would not have his Death to be unbewayled, and unlamented of his Friends. 
Solon wished to have his death bewailed.  His meaning (I think) is, that he would be entirely dear unto his Friends. But I know not, whether Ennius hath a great deal better thereof judged:  
Let no man at my death lament,  
Nor weep when I am laid in Grave: 
Ennius.   
For why? in life ay permanent,  
I sure am lasting Fame to have.  
Such death in his opinion, is not to be lamented and bewailed, which is 
Death not to be bewailed.  exchanged for Immortality. Now, as touching the Grief or Agonies of dying (if there be any) certes, they endure but for a small space, especially in an Oldman: and after Death the same Sense is either such as is blessed and optable, or else is it none at all. 
He that still standeth in fear of Death can never have a quiet mind.   
But Adolescency aught to enure itself in this Meditation, still to despise Death: without which Meditation no man can have a quiet mind.  
For surely die we must, and uncertain are we whether even this very present day. Therefore who is he, 
Nothing more certain than Death: Nothing more uncertain than the hour of Death.  which every hour standing in fear of Death, can have his mind in any rest and tranquillity? whereof there needeth no very long discourse to be: sith I well remember not only L. Brutus who in the quarrel of his Country was slain: the two Decii, who galloping 
Valiant knights which died for the honour & safeguard of their country  their horses, voluntarily gave themselves to Death: M. Regulus, who willingly went and yielded himself to punishment, because he would not forswear himself, but keep touch & promise' even with his very Enemies: the two Scipios, which stopped the passage and way of the * Carthaginians, 
Under the conduct of Ha●druball. Terentius Varro.  even with their own bodies: thy Grandfather L. Paulus, who through the rashness of his * Copertner and fellow in Office, was in that ignominious & dishonourable overthrow at Cannas, slain and manquelled: M. Marcellus whose dead Corpse, his most cruel * Enemy suffered not to lack honourable interrement: 
Hannibal  but also how our Legions and 
Not worthy and honourable Gentlemen only, but common soldiers & inferior persons have despised Death.  common Soldiers have courageously and stoutly adventured many times into such places whence they never thought again to return alive: as in my Book of originals, I have declared. Shall therefore Oldmen which he learned and skilful fear that thing which young striplings, and the fame not only unlearned but rude and rustical also, do contemn and set at naught?  
But a satiety of all things (in mine opinion) causeth a satiety of life.  
There be some delights peculiar to Childhood: Shall tall striplings & young men addict themselves thereunto 
Every age hath his peculiar delight and study.  semblably? There be also some, appropriate unto youthful Adolescency: Shall ripe and consistent Age (which is termed the Middle Age of man) desire the same? And there be of this same middle Age, some Studies, which old-age careth not for: And there be some, last of all, peculiar to old-age.  
Therefore as the delights of these former Ages do decay and come to an end, so do these of old-age die, and vanish away also. Which when it happeneth than doth sacietye of life, bring a ripe and convenable time to die.  
For truly I see no cause to the contrary, but that I dare be bold to declare unto you, all that I think & judge of Death: namely for that I seem the deeper to see into it, because I now approach & draw somewhat near unto it.  
And verily (OPEN. Scipio & C. Laelie) 
A true life.  I do believe that, your noble Fathers, which were Gentlemen both right honourable, and my most dear Friends, are yet still alive, and do live such a life, as (in deed) is alone to be accounted Life.  
For so long as we are enclosed with in the Prison or frame of our bodies we must needs discharge some actions even 
The Body is the prison or jail of the Soul  of necessity, and are driven to do some such Functions as are unavoidable. For the mind or Soul being heavenly, and inspired into Man from above, is depressed, & as it were forcibly thrown down to the Earth: being a place to Divine nature, & Eternity quite contrary.  
But I think that the Immortal Gods inspired Minds into human 
Why the mind was inspired into man.  Bodies, to the end there should be some, to inhabit the Earth: who beholding the Order of the Bodies Celestial, should imitate the same in the course of their lives and in Constancy.  
And not only reason and disputation enforceth me so to believe, but the nobleness also and Authority of renowned Philosophers.  
For I have been in place where I have heard that Pythagoras and his Scholars 
Pythagoras.  the Pythagorians, being dwellers here, & almost endenizoned among us, (for they were once termed Italiam Philosophers) never made any doubt in the matter, but that we had our minds or Souls, tipped, and derived from the very universal divinity of God.  
There were moreover showed unto me, those points, which Socrates (even he which by the Oracle of Apollo was adjudged the Wisest man in the world) disputed and spoke the last day of his life, concerning the Immortalirye of the Soul.  
What needeth many words? I am thus persuaded, and thus do I think, 
immortality of the soul  sith there is so great celerity of men's Minds, so good remembrance of things passed, so great insight and forecast of things to come, so many Arts, so many Sciences, and so many inventions, that the Nature which understandeth & containeth the knowledge of all these things cannot be mortal. And sith the mind is ever moving and hath no beginning of motion (because it moveth itself) so shall it never have any end of motion, because it shall never leave nor departed from itself.  
And sith the Nature of the mind is simple, and hath nothing annexed with it which is unlike or discrepante from itself, that therefore it is indivisible: & forsomuch as it is indivisible, therefore can it never die. And that this serveth for a great Argument to prove that men know sundry things, before they be borne, because young Children, learning hard Arts, do so quickly conceive and apprehended the knowledge of innumerable 
Plato his Reasons to prove the immortality of the Soul  things, in such sort, that they seem not then first to learn them, but to renew them fresh again, into memory. All these in a manner be Plato his reasons.  
In Xenophon also we read, that Cyrus the Elder lying on his death Bed, 
Lib. 8. de Cyri paedia  spoke these words: Do not think my dear children, that when I am gone from you, I shallbe no where, or brought to nothing. For in all the while that I have been with you, you did never see my Mind: but yet by those noble Acts which I have achieved, you did well enough understand, that in this Body of mine, there was a Mind.  
Believe therefore that I have the self same Mind still, although visibly with your eyes you see it not. Neither would the honourable memorials of noble Personages remain after their Deaths, if their worthy minds should achieve no such notable enterprise, for the which we should the longer celebrated the memory of them, when they be dead and gone.  
truly it would never sink in my brain, that men's Minds or Souls, only lived while they remained in mortal Bodies, and that being departed out of them, they utterly died. Neither that the mind is Doltish and foolish, when it is set at liberty, and departed out of a foolish Body: but when it being clearly rid, from all admixtion of the Body, beginneth once to be pure & sound, then is it wise. And when Man's Nature is by Death dissolved, it is apparent and plain enough, whither every one of the other parts do go. For 
All thingesreturn to that whereof they had their first beginning  all things return to that, from whence at the first they had their beginning: but that Mind only, never visibly appeareth, neither when it is in the body, neither when it goeth & departeth out of the Body. Now, you see that nothing is so like unto Death, as Sleep. And yet the Minds of them that are a sleep, do notably declare their Divinity. For when they be quiet & free, they foresee many things to come. Whereby it is to be understanded how & after what sort they shallbe, when 
Sleep an Image of Death.  they be clearly dismissed out of the Prison of the Body. Wherefore if these things be true, than reverence & honour me as a God.  
But if the Soul or Mind do die together with the body, yet you dreading the Gods, who maintain and govern all the beautiful furniture of this world, shall godly and inviolably solemnize the memorial of me. These words spoke Cyrus, lying upon his Death bed. Now if you think it good, let us suruewe and consider our own.  
No man (Scipio) shall ever persuade me, that either thy* Father Paulus, or thy 
Paulus Aemilius. Pub. Scipio. C. Scipio  two grandfathers Paulus & Aphricanus, or the * Father of the same Aphricanus, or * his Uncle, or many other excellent men, which here need not to be rehearsed, would ever have enterprised such worthy adventures and attempts (only to leave a pattern & memorial thereof to their posterity) if they had not with the eyes of their minds perceived & seen that their Posterity and Sequel might appertain unto them. Do you think that I (for I also must somewhat boast & brag of myself as Oldmens' guise 
Noble minds desire to leave a re  is to do) would ever have undertaken so many painful labours, day & night, both in time of Peace & also of War if I had thought that my glorious renown should extend no further then the bounds of my natural life? For if it should be so, were it not then much better for a man to lead an easy & quiet life, without intermeddling in any labour or contentious dealing of the world?  
But the Mind (I wots not how) raysinge up and erecting itself, had ever such a careful respect to Posterity, as though when it were departed out of this life, it should then, and never till then, live & flourish. For if it were not so, the Souls were immortal, the mind of every good & Virtuous man, would not so earnestly aspire to immortal Glory. Further more every wiseman doth right willingly and contentedly die: contrariwise, 
The God lie desire Death but the wicked fear it.  every Fool, most unwilling lie. Do you not think that the Mind which seeth more and further of, doth well perccive and know, that it goeth to a far better state? Again, that he whose insight is dymmer & duller, doth neither see nor consider so much?  
But verily I have a great desire to see your Fathers, whom I both reverenced and loved. And not them only am I so earnestly affected to see, whom I myself erst have known: but them also, of whom I have both heard, read, & also have myself written.  
From which my journey thitherward, no man shall (by my good will) bring me back, neither rebound and rebutt me backward, as it were a tennis ball: 
This place is translated according to ij sundry Latin Texts.  yea although he would undertake to parboil my old Blood and renew my youth again as Pelias was.  
Certes, if God would grant to me being now in this Age to be a Child again, and as young as a Babe that lieth crying in his Cradle, I would with all my heart, refuse the offer. Neither would I willingly (when I have as it were run the whole race) to be plucked back from the Goal or Endmarkes, to the Lists or place of first setting out.  
For what Commodity hath this life? Nay rather what moylinge 
This life full of trouble and labour.  and labour hath it not? But admit, it had some commodity: yet doubtless it hath either some full sacietye, or some final End.  
For I mean not to bewail and deplore my life past, as many and that same 
A worthy and virtuous man is not borne in vain.  right learned, Clerks have often times done. Neither do I repent that I have lived: because I have so lived and led my life, that I may judge of myself, that I have not been borne in vain. 
This life is no dwelling place of continual abode but as an Inn or lodgeinge for a time,  And I departed out of this life as out of an Inn, not as out of a dwelling house. For Nature hath lente unto us a place for to stay & abide in, for a time, and not to devil in continually.  
O noble and lucky Day, when as I shall take my voyage toward that blessed Crew, and company of Happy Souls: & when as I shall depart out of this trouble some world, and common sink of all mischief. For I shall not only go to those worthy men (of whom I spoke before) but also to mine own Son Cato, a man of such Virtue, & goodness, as none more, of such piety and sincerity, as none better: whose Body was * Burned by me, whereas 
The fashion then among the Romans was to burn their dead Bodies.  it had been, more agreeable to Nature, that my Body should rather have been burned and interred by him. But his Mind or Soul not clearly forsaking me, but ever loooking back and expecting my coming, is assuredly gone before into those places, whither he perceived that I also must come.  
Which my hap and chance I have seemed stoutly to bear: not because I did take it so patiently in deed: but I ever comforted myself, thinking that our absence and being asunder, should not continued long.  
These he the very causes O Scipio, (for you told me ere while, that you and Laelie were wont much to marvel thereat) which make mine old-age unto me easy, and to be not only without all greeveunce but rather very pleasant and delectable.  
And if I do err in this point, because I am of opinion that the Souls of men are immortal, verily I am well contented, in the same error still to continued: neither will I recant this error (wherein I am so singularly delighted) so long as I live. And if the case were so, that when I am dead I should feel nothing (as certain petite Philosophers hold opinion) I fear not a whit, lest those Philosophers being dead, should flout and deride this mine error.  
Nay, admit, that we should not be immortal: yet is it good and optable for a man, in his convenient time to die. For Nature, as she hath of all other things, so also hath she her limitation & end of living. Now, old-age is the final end or last part of Age, much like unto the Conclusion or last knitting up of an Interlude: the wearysomnesse whereof, we aught to eschew, specially when we are, even cloyed with satiety.  
Thus much have I had to say touching old-age: whereunto (I pray God) that you may arrive: that those things which you have heard of me by month, you may by deed and trial found true accordingly.   
Thomas Newton.  
FINIS.   

Six several Themes of Stoical Philosophy, written by M. T. Cicero, unto Marcus Brutus: and Entitled Paradox.  

The Preface.  
SUNDRY times (friend Brutus) have I marked thine uncle Cato, that whensoever he uttered his mind in the Senate, he entreated of weighty matters taken out of Philosophy, much dyffering from the judicial and public use, which we use in our common Pleading. But yet not with standing, he prevailed so much by Oratorious persuasion, that his words seemed unto the people probable and allowable. Which was a thing far harder and busier for him to compass, than it is either for thee, or for me: because we are better enured and more use that kind of Philosophy, which bringeth copy of Eloquence, & wherein those things are declared, which do not greatly disagree from the minds of the People.  
But CATO being (in mine Opinion) a perfect Stoic, doth both think those things which of the Vulgar People are not greatly allowed: and is also of that Sect, which seeketh no brave gallantise of Speech, nor Flowers of Eloquence, neither dilateth their Arguments: but with little brief Questions, and (as it were short points) bringeth to pass that thing which he purposed.  
But there is nothing so incredible, but by artificial handling may be made probable: nothing so rugged and rusty, but by Eloquence may be polished 
What learning and Eloquence is able to do.  (and as it were glitteringly burnished.  
Which thing when I with myself considered, I adventured somewhat further, and went boldelyer to work than he, of whom I now speak.  
For Cato his wont is, after the Stoics guise, only to reason of Magnanimity, of Continency, of Death, of the whole praise of Virtue, of the immortal Gods, of the Love that a man ought to bear to his Country, without using any colours or ornaments of Rhetoric.  
But I, as it were in sporting sort, have comprised and brought in to Common Places those things which the Stoics do scarcely permit and allow in their Schools of Exercise and private Studies.  
Which points because they be marvelous, and contrary to the opinion of all men, are also by them called* Paradoxa: and thereupon 
Paradoxa signifieth  was I desirous to assay, whether they might be published and 
Sentemces' contrary to the common opinion of most men  brought into the Light, that is to say, into the Forum or place of judicial Pleas: and so to be handled, that they might be allowed and liked: or whether I might use a learned kind of reasoning, proper to the skilful sort, or else an other vulgar, after the capacity of the Common People.  
And the willinger was I to writ these things, because these Conclusions and Points, which are called Paradoxa, do specially seem in mine opinion, to be Socratical, & most true.  
Thou shalt therefore. receive at my hands, this small piece of work by me compiled by Candle light these short nights: because that same * other work of mine, of 
Tusculane Questions  greater pains and study, was published and went abroad in thy name.  
And herein shalt thou have a taste of those kinds of Exercises, which I customably use, when soever I transpose and bring those Positive Grounds and Arguments, which in Scholes be termed Thetica, unto this our Rhetorical kind of Pleading and Oratory.  
Howbeit, I do not desire that thou shouldst publish abroad this piece of work: (for it is not of any such excellency, that it deserveth to be set on some high Pinnacle in the Castle, as that notable Image of Minerva was, which Phidias made: but yet, that it may appear, that it came out of the same shop, whence that other did: and that the Author of the one, was Author also of the other.   

The first Paradox, wherein is proved, that nothing is good, but only that, which is honest.  
I Fear, some of you will deem, that this my Discourse is not devised and invented by me of mine own Brain, but borrowed and fetched out of the Disputations of the Stoics.  
Yet nevertheless I will frankly say, what I think, and that in fewer words, than so great a thing can well be declared.  
truly I never judged nor thought, that these men's Money, Sumptuous Buildings, Wealth, Dominions & Bodily Pleasures (wherein foolish Worldlings set their chief delight) were worthy to be reckoned in that number of such things, as are good and expetible. For I do see, that although they have great plenty 
Money, Riches, and such like, are not to  and foison of such transitory things, yet they be ever coveting and hunting after more, lacking even these things 
be reckoned in the number of Good things.  wherein they do abound: for never is their greedy thirst of covetousness stenched: neither are they only afflicted with an inward lust and desire to increase & augment that Substance which they already possess, but also with a Dread and fear of losing the same.  
And in this point, I oftentimes found alack of discretion, in our Ancestors, men of virtuous and continente life: who by the bore and only name, deemed and called this uncertain Pelf, and transitory chaffer (which is commutable between man and man: by the name of Good things whereas in very deed. and in their dealings, they thought far otherwise.  
Can a thing that is simply good, be in an evil man? Or can any man, having great store of good things, be other than a good man? But all these we see to be such, that both naughty men may possess them, and good men by them, may be hurt and damnified. Therefore let him the lust, mock me and spare not: yet shall truth and sound reason with me be ever preferred before the rash judgements of the multitude. Neither will I say, that any man hath lost his Good things, when he hath lost his Cattal or Household stuff. Neither can I chose, but oftentimes to praise and greatly commend the wiseman Bias, who (as I think) was reckoned and accounted one the seven wise Sages of Greece. For when his City Priene was by the Enemy taken and ransacked, all the Inhabitants shifting for themselves, & carrying with them much of their Goods & Stuff, he also was advised and counseled by one of his Friends to do semblably: I do (quoth he) even aswell as they. For I carry away 
Bias his wise answer.  with me, all such Goods & Possessions, as are mine. This man thought not that the worldly Pelf and transitory Goods, which are subject to variable chance & hazard of blind dalyinge Fortune, were any of his: which (notwithstanding) we do call and term Good.  
What is Good then (will some say?) If whatsoever is done rightly, honestly, and according to Virtue, be said to be done well and laudably: than it followeth, that whatsoever is right, honest & according to virtue, is (as I think) only Good.  
But these things may seem to be somewhat obscure, & not able to be understood of every weak capacity, forasmuch as they are but coldelye and superficially disputed without any examples: these therefore must be illustrated and beautified, with the lives and worthy acts of noble Personages, sith they seem to be disputed more subtly with words, then is thought sufficient.  
For I demand of you, whether you think that those noble and excellent men, which were the first founders of our Common wealth, & so left the same unto us, did seem to have any care or mind upon the greedy and insatiable 
The world is now changed from that it was then  desire of Gold and Silver, which tended only to avarice? or upon pleasures, leruing only to consent the fantasy: or upon newe fangled tricks of household stuff, being instruments of nycenes? or upon sumptuous fare and belly 
Covetousness in old time abhorred.  cheer, being the ministers & occasions of voluptuousness?  
Set before your eyes every one of the Kings: will you that I shall begin with Romulus? Or else with those valiant Gentlemen which delivered our City from miserable thraldom and slavery? By 
Romulus for his valiancy & Virtue made a God.  what degrees (I pray you) did Romulus ascend into heaven & become Deified? by such vain Pleasures as these gross Beetleheades call Good? or else by his valiant acts and worthy Virtues?  
What say we to Numa Pompilius? do we not think that the Gods were 
Numa Pompilius.  aswell pleased with his homely * Cruses and earthen Pitchers, as with the rich 
Wherein he offered Sacrifice.  Goblets, & delicate Cups of others?  
I omit the rest: for they were all equal one with an other, except Tarqvinius Superbus.  
But if a man should ask Brutus, what he did, or whereabout he went, when he restored his Country to liberty: if a man should ask the rest of his Fellows and Confederates, what mark they shot at, and whereunto they had respect in thenterpriseing thereof: can it be thought that any of them did it for Pleasure sake, or for riches, or for any other purpose, otherwise than become men of approved Fortitude & Magnanimity?  
What thing animated Quintus Mutius 
Mutius Scęuola, privily conveying himself into Porsenna his camp, and minding to have slain the king miss him and killed an other in his stead  to hazard his life without all hope ever to escape, in giving the attempt to have slain King Porsenna?  
What valiance caused Horatius Cocles alone to defend the Bridge against all the armed rout of his Enemies?  
What invincible Courage made Decius the father, & Decius the Son, voluntarily to bow & object themselves to death, by pressing into the middle of their enemy's hosts? What pretended the continency of C. Fabritius? What meant the homlye far & slender there of M. Curius?  
What say we to our two. sure & invincible Buttresses at the Carthaginian wars, C. & P. Scipio? who sticked not even with their own bodies to stop the passage of the 
Scipio.  army, that came to aid & secure the Carthaginians? What sought the younger Aphricanus? what desired the Elder? What coveted Cato, who lived between these two men's times? and innumerable 
Cato.  others? For we have store enough of Domestical examples.  
Do we think that any of these were ever in that opinion, to desire or seek for any thing in their life, but only that which they supposed & deemed to be good, virtuous, and laudable?  
Therefore let all such as mock & deride this opinion step forth and show their faces: let them even themselves 
Virtue much more to be desired then all pelf or worldly Riches.  judge, whether they had leifer be like to some of these rich & fat Chuffs, which have store of gorgeous houses & Buildings, garnished with the finest Marble stones, burnished and beset with Yuorye and Gold, beautified and adorned with Pictures, Cables, Plenty 
One virtuous man more to be accounted of and esteemed then many rich and weal thy Cobs that are evil.  of Gold and silver Plate, curiously chased and engraven, and other precious, & artificial Corinthian works: or else be like to C. Fabritius, who never had neither would ever have any of all these?  
And these men commonly are persuaded to confess, that these uncertain Goods, which are posted and turmoiled over from one man to an other, are not worthy to be reckoned among those things, that are Good.  
But yet this point they do stiflye maintain and earnestly defend, that Pleasure is the greatest Goodness, & chiefest 
Sensuality & pleasure.  Felicity. Which saying in mine opinion seemeth rather to proceed out of the mouths of brute Beasts, then of Men  
Will't thou therefore so much abase & 
That is not to be reckoned good which bettereth not him in whom it resteth.  cast away thyself, seeing that God or Nature (being the common Mother of all things) hath given to the a Mind, (than which, there is nothing more excellent and divine) that thou shouldest think no difference to be between thee, and a dumb Beast? Is any thing 
Most praise due to most Virtue.  Good, that doth not make him that possesseth it to be better? For as cuerye man is most endued and garnished with Virtue, so is he worthy of most praise. 
A man may honestly rejoice and glory in himself for good things.  And there is no good thing, but he that is therewith decorated, may honestly rejoice & glory in himself for it.  
But is any of all these in Pleasure?  
Doth it make a man either better or more praisable? Is there any so shameless to extol his own lewdness, or to attribute any honest praise to himself, for ensuing Voluptuousness, & Sensual 
No man of any honesty will make vaunt and take pride in his own filthy and lewd life.  Pleasure? Seeing therefore that Pleasure (in defence whereof very many do stiffly stand) is not to be accounted among Good things: but rather that more that it is used, the more it doth alienate & remove the Mind, from the state wherein it was before: certes, to live well and happily is nothing else, but to live uprightly, and honestly.   

The second Paradox declaring that in whomsoever Virtue is, in him there lacketh nothing else to the leading of an happy life.  
Neither did I ever think Marcus Regulus to be miserable, unhappy or wretched. For his 
Marcus Regulus.  Magnanimity, and beauty Courage, was not tormented of the Carthaginians, neither his Gravity, neither his Faithfulness, neither his constancy, neither any of his noble Virtues: neither finally could his worthy Mind which was guarded and fortified with a garrison of so many Virtues, & on every side environed and accompanied with such singular qualities, be vanquished or made Captive, although his Body was taken Prisoner.  
As touching C. Marius, we saw in 
Marius a noble pattern of constancy and patience  him such a rare pattern of noble Patience, that when he was af●ote in his highest Prosperity, he seemed unto me, one of the happiest and fortunatest men in the world: & in adversity, one of the noblest and stoutest hearted men that ever was: then which, there can nothing happen unto a mortal Man more Blessed or Fortunate. 
Particularly in neighing against Antonius but generally all others of his disposition.   
Thou little knowest thou foolish and brainsick man, thou little knowest I say, what great power and efficacy Virtue hath: thou dost only usurp the bore name of Virtue, but thou knowest not the excellency, & force of Virtue.  
That man cannot be but most happy, whose Mind is wholly settled and accustomed to Virtue, and which putteth and reposeth all things in himself alone.  
But he that putteth all his hope, confidence, 
He that leaneth altogether to biind Fortune, and hap hazard, hangeth in doubtful balance.  reason, and cogitation in fickle Fortune, and altogether dependeth upon uncertain hazard, can have no certainty of any thing, neither can he assure himself, that he shall have the fruition of any thing, not so much as that space of one day.  
Terrify and affray such a one, if thou canst catch any such in thy danger, with 
He that is armed with virtue and a good conscience feareth not the threats of the wicked.  thy threatening menaces, either of Death, or else of Banishment: but for my part, what chance soever betideth me, in so churlish and ingrate City, I am fully resolved patiently to suffer it, and not to refuse it: much less not to repugn or resist it.  
For to what End have I employed all my travail, to what effect are all my deeds, or for what purpose serve all my former cares, and studious cogitations, if I have not gotten some what thereby, & learned in such sort to lead my 
Learning comforteth a manin all extremities, & armeth him against all assays.  life, that neither the rashness of fickle Fortune, nor the envious heart-burning and injurious hatred of mine Enemies, should be able once to crush, or dash me out of countenance?  
Is it Death that thou dost threaten me withal, by whose means I shall depart out of this miserable world altogether from among Men: or else it is Banishment, whereby I shallbe rid out of the company of Naughty packs & Villains?  
Death is terrible to those, whose 
Death.  life and conversation hath been such, that when they die, all other things die, & take an End, with them also: but not to them, whose praise & renown can never die, nor be forgotten.  
As touching Banishment, it is terrible and dreadful to them which, think 
banishment.  themselves to be circumscribed and enclosed within a certain limit & place of Dwelling: not unto them, which think and account the whole World as one City.  
Thou art overwhelmed in all miseries, thou art plunged in Calamities, thou art inveigled & led in a fools 
Torments of a wicked and guilty Consciens.  Paradise, thinking thyself to be a man happy & in Fortune's good grace: thine own libidinous Lusts do vex & trouble thee: thou art Night and Day tormented: thou neither thinkest that sufficient and enough, which thou presently possessest, & also thou standest in continual fear, lest that which thou hast, will not long continued with thee. The Conscience of thy wicked deeds pricketh thee: thou standest in fear of Sessions, judgements, and Laws: which way soever thou glancest thine eye, thy wrongful dealings, like hellish furies, do occur and resort into thy remembrance, and will not suffer thee to take any rest.  
Wherefore, as a naughty, foolish and dissolute person cannot be hapyye: so a 
A virtuous and wiseman can never be miserable.  good, wise, and valiant man cannot be miserable. Neither can his life be other wise then good and prayseable, whose Virtuous manners and honest conditions are Godly and commendable: neither furthermore is his life to be detested & eschewed, which deserveth praise: which were utterly to be avoided and fled, if it were wretched and miserable. And therefore I conclude, that whatsoever is laudable, the same also ought to seem blessed, flourishing and expetible.   

The third Paradox, wherein according to the opinion of the Stoics, he proveth all faults to be equal.  
THe thing (will some man 
The Stoics do not consider and respect what is done, but with what mind and intent it is done  say) is small and of little value: But verily the Offence is great. For Offences, and faults must be weighed & considered, not by the event of things, but by the vicious intent and naughty disposition of the Parties.  
One offence (I grant) may be greater or less in value, than another is: but as touching the nature of the offences, and 
By negligence he that drouneth a Ship laden with Chaff, is as much to be blamed in respect of his unskilfulness, as though it were fraught with gold.  respecting them simply, which way soever thou shiftest and turnest thyself, they are all one.  
A Pilot or chief Mariner which negligently drowneth a Ship, whether the same be fraughted with Gold, or with Chaff, is as much to be reprehended & disallowed, for the one, as for the other. For, although there be some odds and difference in the worth & value of the things, yet his Ignorance and unskilfulness is all one.  
If a man through inordinate Lust, do deslour a woman that is unknown, and 
Adultery and fornication committed with a poor maiden as heinous in itself as with a Damsel of worshipful parentage  of poor estate and Degree, the grief of that villayny doth not (in deed) appertain to so many, as if he had lasciviously constuprated a noble Damoysel, descended of some honourable House, and Pedagrewe. But the offence was of itself never a whit the less. For Sin is nothing else, but a transgressing and passing of the limits & bounds of Virtue. Which when thou hast once done, the fault or trespass is committed: and it skilleth not how far thou runneste forward in aggravating or increasing the same transgression with any more.  
Certainly, it is not lawful for any man to sin.  
And whatsoever is unlawful to be done, is in this one point contained: in challenging it not to be lawful: which can neither be made more or less: For if it be not lawful, it is Sin: which is always one, and the same: And therefore the Vices that spring and proceed out of them, must needs be equal.  
Also if Virtues be equal one with another, Vices also must be equal.  
But it may most plainly & easily be perceived & understanded, that Virtues are all equal one with another: forasmuch as there cannot be any man better than a good man: nor any more temperate, than he that is temperate: neither any stouter & valiaunter than he that is stout and valiant: nor wiser than he that is Wise.  
wilt thou call him a Good man, that whereas he might gain clearlye and with out danger of Law, detain to himself Ten pounds of Gold being committed to his keeping and custody in secret, without any witness, yet faithfully and truly redelivereth the same to the owner thereof: wouldst thou (I say) think him a good man, if he would 
as much right in a penny, as in a pound.  not do semblably in Ten thousand pounds? Or would you repute and take him to be a temperate man, which can bridle his affections, from some one 
Lusts and affections must be bridled not once but always.  licentious Lust, and letteth go the Reins of all disordered outrage in another? Only Virtue is agreeably with reason and perpetual Constancy. Nothing can be added thereunto to make it to be more a Virtue: nothing can be taken away 
Virtue a agreeable with Reason & Constancy.  from it, but the name of Virtue shall strait ways be taken away & cease.  
For if things well done, be rightly and virtuously done, and nothing can be 
Nothing can be better than good.  any thing be found that is better than Good. It followeth therefore, that vices also are equal, sithence the naughtiness and pravities of the Mind are aptly termed Vices. But sith Virtues are equal, Virtuous deeds also, (because they proceed and come of Virtue) aught to be equal. Semblably Sins because they spring and arise out of Vices, must needs be equal.  
Yea sir (will some say) you take & ground this opinion upon the Philosopher's doctrine. 
Objection  I was afraid, lest you would have said, I had borrowed & gathered it 
Answer  of Ribauds & varlets, Socrates his use and manner was to dispute after such a 
Socrates.  sort. Surely I am well paid thereof: for ancient Histories do record & witness, that be was a profoundly learned, & also a right wise man. But yet I demand this question of you (seeing we do quietly reason the matter with gentle words and not with sturdy Buffets) whether when we 
Men of profoundest wit and learning fit test to decide controversies in opinion.  dispute of good things, we aught rather to seek the Mind and Opinion of rude and ignorant Tankard bearers & drudging labourers, or else of the approved learned & famous philosophers especially, sith there is no sentence & opinion, either truer or more available to Man's life then this. For what power or force doth more terrify men, from committing all kind of Wickedness, then when they know that there is no difference in offences, & that they do offend as much and as heinously, in laying violent hands 
Equality of faults  upon private People, as they should, if they did the same to Magistrates?  
And what house soever they do pollute with bawdry and whoredom, that the dishonesty and shame of the lecherous fact is equal and all one.  
What? is there no difference (will some say) whether a man kill his own Father, or else some common Servant? If you mean these two comparisons barely and simply, it is hard to be judged of what sort they be. For if it 
Who after nine months siege, and extreme famine rather than they would yield to Hannibal and come into slavery, burned all their own goods in the market place and slewtheir own fathers, wives and children. and last of all themselves. Livius. Lib. i Dec. 3.  be of itself & simply, an horrible offence, for one to kill his Father then the * Saguntines (who had liefer their Parents should die being free and unbanquished, then to live in servitude and slavery) were Parricides. Therefore in some case the Son may vereve the Father of his life without offence: & many times a poor drudge or slave, may not be brought to his death, without great wrong and injury. The cause therefore and not the nature of the fact, maketh the difference herein: which when it is occasioned by the one, then is the same committed more readily: but if it be conjoined to both, then must the faults be needs equal.  
Notwithstanding herein they do differ, that in killing a Slave, if it be done injuriously, there is but one single offence committed: but in kill & taking away the life of a Father, there are many faults: for therein is an unnatural dealing showed to him that begat thee, that fostered and brought thee up, that instructed and taught thee, that placed 
divers reasons to strike a reverence in us to wards our Parents.  thee in good state, to live in the common Wealth, and furnished thee with houses and necessaries. He is notorious for the multitude of Offences, which taketh away from his Father, that, which he himself, received of him, and therefore deserveth a great deal more punishment.  
But in the rare and course of our life, we ought not to wayghe and consider what punishment is meet and due for every fault, but to look and perpend what is lawful and permitted for every man to do. To do that which behoveth 
To do a miss is of fensive, but to do any thing that is expressly forbidden, is heinous and detestable.  not to be done, we aught to think to be an offence: but to do any thing which is prohibited and unlawful, we aught to judge and account a detestable and cursed deed.  
Is this to be so precisely taken, for every light matter and small trespass? Yea truly, for we cannot imagine a mean of the things: but we may bridle our affections, and keep our Minds in a mean and measure.  
If a Stage player do never so little in his gesture miss and transgress the notes of measure, or err in pronouncing some one syllable in a Verse, long, which should be short: or contrary wise that, short, which should be long, he is hissed at, and with clapping of hands driven from the Stage: and wilt thou say, that thou shouldest err and offend so much as in one syllable, in thy life, 
We must be so precise in the direction of our life that we should not trip so much as in a Syllable.  which aught to be more moderate than any gesture, and more inculpable, than any Verse?  
I cannot abide to hear a Poet make a fault in his Verse, though it be but a trifling matter, and shall I hear a Citizen skanne upon his fingers, his faults, which in the society of Life he hath committed? Which if they seem to be shorter, yet how can they seem to be lighter, sithence every offence and sin cometh by the perturbation of 
Reason & order being perturbed, all virtue goeth to havoc.  reason and order? For Reason & Order being once broken and perturbed, there can nothing be added, whereby it may seem that the Offence may any whit more be increased.   

The Fourth Paradox, wherein is proved, that all Fools be mad and distraught from their right minds: covertly taunting Clodius, and by him all others of like manners and conditions.  
But I will manifestly & by necessary Arguments prove thee, not a Fool as thou art often: not a wicked villain, as thou art always: but a frantic Sot & a stark mad Idiot.  
Shall the mind of a Wiseman which is guarded and on every side fenced in, with 
The mind of a wiseman, unconquerable.  grave counsel, and advice, patiented bearing & suffering all such chances, as are incident to man, contempt of Fortune, & finally with all other Virtues (as it were) with a Rampire or a wall, be vanquished and overthrown, which cannot be so much as exiled and banished out of the City?  
For what call you a City? Is it an whole assembly of savage and brutish livers? or is it a rabbling rout & multitude of runagates, and Cuthroat 
Rome.  thieves, congregated into one place? Certes, you will say, no. Then verily 
Where tyranny oppression, and contempt of Laws be practised no city nor Commonwealth can rightly be termed.  was not it to be called a City, when as the Laws were disannulled, and abrogated, when judgements were laid aside and contemned, when the ancient customs of the City were ceased and extinguished, when the Magistrates were with sword and strong hand deposed and disfraunchised, and the honourable name of Senate no more used in the Weal public.  
Was that flocking rout of thieves, and Ruffians, and that swarm of Robbers and Murderers, which under thy conduct were brought and set in the * Forum, and the residue of the Conspirators 
The common place where Courts werekept and Law matters pleaded.  which after the seditious Furies & traitorous uproars of Catiline, turned & conformed themselves unto thy ungracious villainy & madness, any city?  
Therefore I was not banished out of the City, which was then none: but I was called home, & restored into that city, when there was in the common Wealth a Consul, which* than was none at all: & 
So long as Clodius ruled the ro●t.  when there was a Senate, which while thou barest the sway, was quite decayed: when the people might frankly and freely give their voices, and consents: and finally, when the xecution of justice, Law, & Equity, which be the Links and Bonds of a City) were revived and brought again into fresh remembrance.  
But behold, how little I set by these weapons, where with thou mainteinest thy murderous and thievish lewdness. I ever made account, that thou didst mean great & mischievous injury towards me: but I never thought that it ever reached or came near to me.  
Unless peradventure when thou didst beaten down the walls of my House, or when thou didst most wickedly set my Mansion on fire, thou thoughtest that some of such things as were mine, were spoiled ransacked and burned. But 
worldly pelf and transitory goods are not rightly to be termed any of ours.  I do reckon nothing to be mine, neither can any Man else, call any thing his own, which may be taken away or stolen, or by any other means lost.  
If thou hadst bereft me of my long continued Constancy of Mind, of my provident cares, of my watchful pains, and my sage counsel, whereby the state of this public Weal is and hath been honourably conserved and maintained, or if thou hadst abolished 
Tyrants & bloodsuckers have no manner of power over the mind of the virtuous.  & blotted out the immortal Fame that shall eternally redound to me for these worthy benefits, or (which is more) if thou hadst bereft me of that Mind, out of which all these Counsels proceeded: then would I confess that I had received a Wrong, at thine hands.  
But forasmuch as thou neither didst, neither yet couldst do this: therefore hath thy injurious dealing toward 
Virescit vulnere virtus.  me, made this my return joyful and glorious, and not my departure wretched and miserable.  
Therefore I was ever a Citizen, and then especially, when the Senate did write to Foreign Nations for my safeguard, and gentle entertainment, as for one that was both a worthy and a virtuous Citizen.  
But thou even now at this present, art no Citizen, unless peradventure it be possible for one, and the same person both to be a deadly Enemy, and a friendly Citizen.  
Dost thou make the difference between a Citizen, and an Enemy by Nature and distant of place, and not by inward will, and plain deeds of the mind? Thou hast committed murder in the Forum, thou hast intruded in to the Temple, and forcibly kept that possession thereof, with thy armed cut-throats. Thou hast fired the houses of private men, and holy Churches. Why is * Spartacus proclaimed a Rebel 
A notable Fencer, who gathering an host of Bondslaves, made wars against the Romans.  and Traitor, if thou be a Citizen? Canst thou be a citizen, sithence through thy lewdness, the City was once no City? And dost thou call me (by thine own name) a banished man, sith there is no good man but he thought that at my departure the Common wealth was banished and departed also?  
O thou foolish and frantic Dolt, wilt thou never be reclaimed to goodness? wilt thou never look about thee? wilt thou never consider what thou dost and speakest? Dost thou not know that Exile is the punishment of wicked and scelerous dealing? and that this my journey was taken in hand for my most notable and noble Acts, before by me achieved?  
All mischievous and naughty persons (of whom thou dost profess thyself Captain and Ringleader) whom the 
Not the change of soil & Country which maketh the banished man  Laws will to be banished men, are Vagarauntes and banished men in deed, although they never stir foot out of their native Country. When by all order of the Laws thou art denounced an Outlawed & Banished person, wilt thou not be a Banished man?  
Is not he called an Enemy, that is found with Weapon about him, & behold thy Falchion was taken even before the Senate? Shall he that slayeth a man be punished, and thou escape, who hast murdered a great maignie? Shall he that setteth fire on the City, be adjudged an Enemy, and thou winked at, which with thine own hand hast burned Cloisters and Churches, dedicated to the Nymphs? Shall he be punishable, which forcibly surpriseth that Temples of the Gods, and thou go scotfree, who hast pitched thy Camp even in that Forum?  
But what mean I to recoumpte & declare the common Laws, by all which thou verily art a Banished man?  
Thine own familiar friend Cornificius made a special Law for thee, that if thou didst presume to come into the secret Shrouds of Bona Dea, thou shouldest be sent into exile. But thou (notwithstanding) art accustomed to make thy vaunt, that thou haste done it. Seeing therefore thou art denounced a banished man, and thrown into exile by so many laws, dost thou not tremble at, and fear this odious name of a Banished man?  
But I am here in Rome (thou wilt say) and therefore how canst thou prove me to be a Banished man? Yea marry Sir: and so were you in the Shrouds also. Therefore a man is not demaundable to have the benefit and protection of the place where he rousteth and barboureth, if the Laws do not allow him there to be, and remain.   

The fift Paradox, wherein he inveigheth against the insolency & voluptuous living of Marcus Antonius, and proveth all Wisemen to be free: and all Fools to be Slaves and Bondmen.  
Deserveth this worthy captain 
Antonius  to be praised, or to be named & thought worthy of such an honourable name? How? Or what honest 
He can ill rule another, that can not rule himself.  Freeman can he be a ruler over, which cannot rule his own affections? Let him first bridle his own Sensual Lusts, let him renounce and despise Pleasures, let him qualify his furious and fumish anger, let him forsake Covetousness, let him utterly expel & abandon all other corrupt & naughty vices: & then let him begin to exercise his rule and Authority over others, when he 
Vices specially emblemishing there nowme of noble men and magistrates.  himself hath ceased to be enthralled, as a Bond slave unto two most vile masters, to wit, Shame and Dishonesty: For so long as he is the Bondslave of those two, he shall not only be accounted no Emperor, nor commander over others, but rather not so much as a freeman.  
For this is very excellently agreed upon, among the best learned, whose authority I would not use and allege if the case so lay, that I should make this discourse before an audience of blunt & ignorant persons. But seeing that I do speak unto them, that are most wise and discreet, unto whose hearing these things are not strange, why should I dissimule, and fain that I have lost all the pains and labour which I have bestowed in these studies?  
Therefore right learned men do hold opinion, that no man is Free, but only 
Liberty what it is  a Wiseman: For what is Liberty: Forsooth, a Leave and power to live as a man lust. And who liveth as he lust, but he which embraceth and discreetly frameth to live, in an orderly and provident trade: who is obedient to Laws not for fear, but standeth in reverent 
Honest men obey Laws, not for fear but for love of Virtue  awe of them, because he thinketh it a thing expedient, and wholesome so to do: who sayeth nothing, doth nothing, thinketh nothing, but voluntarily and freely: whose whole counsels, and affairs, what soever they be that 
A freeman described  he taketh in hand, doth proceed from himself, and to the same are referred: neither is any thing of so great force with him, as is his own will and judgement: unto whom Fortune herself, who is reported to have a marvelous great power, 
Fortune.  and to bear a great sway in all things, yieldeth and giveth place: according, to the saying of that wise Poet: she is fashioned to every man after his own manners.  
Therefore only a Wiseman hath this pre-eminence and good chance, that be doth nothing against his will, nothing grudgingly, nothing by compulsion. Which thing to be true, although we must be fain in many words to discuss and declare, yet this in few words must needs be confessed, that no man is Free, saving he only, which is thus disposed and affected. And therefore 
Who be Free.  all naughty persons are Slaves, and bondmen.  
Neither is this so inopinable & marvelous, in deed, as it is in words. For they do not term and call them Slaves, after such sort as they do Bond men, who serve for drudgery and vile service, being bound to their Masters by Indentures and covenants obligatory, 
Who be Bond  or by some order of Civil law: But if the vile obedience of an effeminate and abject mind, lacking any sure stay or judgement of itself, be (as it is in deed) a Bondage, who will deny, but that all light fellows, Covetous persons, and finally all naughty Folks, be Slaves and Bondmen?  
Shall I think him to be a Free man, which is under the rule of a* Woman, submitting himself to her beck, 
Cleopatra.  and Pleasure: over whom she exerciseth Authority, and unto whom she enjoineth and prescribeth Laws: commandeth and countermaundeth, at her own pleasure? If she command any service to be done, he dare none otherwise do, but go about it: if she would have any thing, he dare not deny it: if she ask or request any thing, he must give it: if she call, he must come: if she cast him of, there is no remedy but to be packing and trudging away: if she storm and threaten, he must tremble & quake for awe & fear. Verily I judge the man w is in this case, worthy not only to be called a Slave & Bondman, but a most wicked Passaunt & Drudge, yea although he were descended of honourable stock & Lineage. And as in a great Household of Fools, some servants be (as they think in their own conceits) braver & copper, them their other Fellows: as being Porters & Ushers of the Hal, & yet they are no better but servants & fooleshaken, aswell as thou: so are, they also teinted with the like folly & Sottage, which are too too curious in setting all their delight in Pictures, Tables, Plate richly engraven, Corinthian 
Fond delights.  works, & sumptuous Buildings.  
But we are (will they say) the chief 
Objection  heads of the City. truly you are not the chief Masters, not so much as over your own fellow Slaves. 
Answer   
But as in a great Family, they which handle and go about Vile offices of drudgery, as Scowringe, Greasinge, Wiping, Brushing, Sweping, strawinge Rushes & Flowers, have not the honestest place of service: so in a City, they which have enthralled and addicted themselves to the desires & lusts of these things, have almost the lowest & basest room of all, in the same City. But thou wilt say again: I have valiantly behaved myself in battles, & exploited 
Objection  worthy adventures in Martial affairs, and I have had the governance and chief rule, over great Empires & provinces. Then carry about with thee, a Mind garnished with such Virtues 
Answer  and Qualities, as be praise worthy. But thou art stupefied with some excellent 
An excellent painter. A Cunning Image maker.  Table of * Echion his workmanship, or else with some Picture of * Polycletus.  
I omit to speak whence thou purloynedst them, and how thou camest by them. But when I see and behold thee so affectionately still to gaze and toot upon them, to marvel and muse at them, & to make exclamations for wonder of them, truly I must needs judge thee to be the Slave & Bondman of all Dotage and Foolishness.  
But are not these things pretty and trim? Yes marry are they: for we also have learned Eyes, able to discern things.  
But I pray thee, let these be reputed and deemed fair and beautiful, in such sort, that they be not made as Gyeves and Fetters, to shackle and bind Men: but taken as toys and conceits, to delight Children. 
Who utterly razed Corinth and carried away all the precious sewels & costly wares thereof to Rome.   
For what do you think, if * L. Mummius should have seen any of these men greatly enamoured, and very desirously delighted to handle the fine Pots and Vrinalles of Corinthian work, whereas he himself cared not for the whole City of Corinth: whether would he, think him to be an excellent Citizen, or else a diligent overseeing Servant? Suppose that * Curius were alive again: or some of those worthy 
Who vanquished the Samnites, and drove Pyrrhus out of italy.  Personages, in whose simple Fermes & Country Graunges, there was nothing gorgeously decked, glittering, & beautiful, but themselves. If he or any of these men, should see one (which by that election & favour of the people, hath been greatly benefited & promoted) catching young Barbilles' out of a Fishpond, or nicely bandling them: or rejoicing in himself, for having store & abundance of Lamprayes: would not he judge this man to be such a Slave, that in a Household, he would not think him worthy to intermeddle in any greater Charge?  
Doth any man doubt, but that they are in most beastly state of Servitude, 
vilest Slaverye.  who, for covetousness of worldly mock, refuse no manner of most vile Slavery, Drudgery, and Bondage?  
What unreasonable Bondage is that Person well contented to suffer, which gopeth for the Goods and Inheritance of an other man? When doth the Old 
Gapers for other men's Death.  Rich Childless Cobbe, either beck or nod, but he is ready at his Elbow, & priest at an inch, to do his will & pleasure? He speaketh every word to please the old churls humour: he knoweth the right bend of his Bow, & how to please him: what he willeth to be done, he doth: he holdeth him up with yea and nay: he sitteth by him and praiseth him.  
What point of a Freeman is in any of these? nay rather, what point of a Servile and drowsy Drudge is not herein?  
Now, that same ambitious desire of 
Ambition and desire of Honour  Honour, Principality, & Provinces, (which seemeth to mask under a better show of Honesty) what a hard and Rigorous Mistress is it? How Imperious, how Stately, & how Vehement is it? This was it, that caused the chiefest persons in the City, and those which were counted the best, and most substantiallest men in Rome, to become Suitors, and to crouch and kneel unto Cethegus, (a man not of that best honesty) & to be under him: to sand him gifts: to 
Cethegus.  come home to him in the night: to desire him to be good unto them: and finally, suppliauntlye to prostrate themselves before him, and beseech his favour.  
What call you Servitude & Thraldom, if this may be thought to be Liberty and Freedom? What shall we say? when the rule and Domination of Affections hath exceeded, doth there not enter into their hearts, an other heavy Master, proceeding and growing 
Fear and remorse of Conscience.  of a remorse of Conscience, for that crimes before committed, which is Fear?  
What a miserable and hard Servitude is this? They must obey and follow that fancies of prating Young ling. All they that seem to have any shadow of knowledge, are feared as though they were Lords.  
As for the judge, what domination 
judge.  hath he? In what fear of him, do guilty Persons stand? how do they which know themselves guilty of any offence, fear and dread him? Is not all kind of fear, a Bondage and Slaverye?  
Therefore to what purpose serveth 
L. Crassus reproved for his dasierdlye fearfulness.  that coptous, rather than wise Oration of that right eloquent man L. Crassus: Deliver and rid us out of Servitude. What Servitude is this to such an excellent and noble Man? For fainthearted, cowardly & abject fearfulness of the Mind, is Servitude. 
What Slavery is   
Let us not (saith he) be in Bondage to any man. Desires he to be enfranchised and restored to Liberty? No. For what doth he add afterward? To none but only to you all, unto whom we may and aught to show our dutiful allegiance. He would but change his Landlord: he desireth not to be free.  
But we, if we be endued with a lofty and valiant Mind, garnished & fraught with Virtues, neither aught, neither may be in servile Subjection. But say thou, O Crassus, that thou canst do so: for why: thou canst do it, and be as good as thy word: but say not that thou oughtest so to do: because no man oweth any thing, but that, which were a dishonesty not to pay.  
But of this hitherto. Now let this jolly * Fellow look well about him, and 
Antonius  see, how he can be an Emperor, or Commander, sith very Reason and Truth do most plainly prove him, not to be so much as a Freeman.   

The sixth & last Paradox, wherein he proveth none to be Rich but only wise & Virtuous Men: privily nipping Marcus Crassus, who said, that none was worthy to have the name of Rich, unless with his Revenues, he were able to furnish and maintain an Army.  
What an insolent bragging and ostentation is this that thou makest about the telling of thy Money & riches? Art thou alone Rich? O immortal Gods, may not I rejoice in myself, that I have heard & learned something? Art thou alone Rich? What wilt thou say, if I can prove the not to be rich at all? Nay, what wilt thou say, if I prove thee to be poor & beggarly?  
For, what is he, whom we call Rich, or upon what manner of man may we bestow this word? verily I 
Who may rightly be termed Rich.  think that is best agreeth, and may fitliest be applied to him, who possesseth so much, that he thinketh himself very well & contentedly stored with enough to live virtuously and honestly withal, who seeketh & prowleth after nothing, coveteth and wisheth nothing more than he hath.  
For it is thy Mind, that must examine and judge itself, whether it be Rich or no: and not the rumour & talk of the People: neither thy riches and Possessions.  
He which thinketh himself to lack nothing, and careth not for heaping & boarding up of any more: but is satisfied and well contented with his present 
Who is Rich.  wealth, (I graunce) is Rich. But if for filthy lucre and insatiable greediness of Money, thou think no manner of gain dishonest and reproachful, and carest not which way nor how thou getrest thy goods, (whereas no gain at all, can be honest and commendable in one of that order, whereof thou art one) if thou daily defraud and undermine thy Neighbours: deceive & cirumvent them: exact unreasonable demands of them: entangle and lap them in prejudicial bargains and covenants: poll and pill them: spoil and undo them: 
Lewd shifts together wealth.  steal from thy fellows: rob the common Treasury: gape & look for Legacies to be given thee, by thy friends in their last Testaments: or perhaps, dost not wait and tarry the time, but by forgery and falsity dost craftily intrude and put thy name in steed of an other: whether be these, the tokens & pranks of a rich wealthy Man which aboundeth, or of a needy poor person that lacketh?  
It is the Mind of a man, that is wont to be called Rich, and not his Coffers. 
It is the mind & not the full Coffers that make a man rich.  Although thy Coffers be full stuffed with money & worldly pelf, yet so long as I see thyself empty & void of Virtue, I will never think thee to be rich. For men do esteem and reckon the measure of riches, to consist in Sufficiency. 
Sufficiency is wealth enough.  Hath a man one Daughter? Then hath he need of Money? Hath he two? He hath need of more Money. Hath he more than two? He hath need of greater 
He that hath much to do with Money, hath need of much Money.  store than afore. If he have fifty Daughters (as the Poets do say that king Danaus had) he must provide so many Dowers to give with them in Marriage, which will ask a great mass of Money.  
For according as every one hath need, so is the measure of riches (as before I have said) considerable and appliable. Therefore that man which hath not many Daughters, but (nevertheless) 
The Pursuit of fond Affections and fleshly Lusts consumeth wealth, be it never so much.  hath innumerable Affections, and an infinite number of beastly Lusts, (which are able in short space to consume very great wealth and foison of riches) how shall I call him Rich, sithence he feeleth and perceiveth himself to lack?  
Many have heard thee say, that no man was Rich, unless he were able with his Rents and Revenues to maintain 
What man Crassus judged to be called Rich.  and furnish an whole Host of Men: which thing the Roman Nation hath of long time been scarcely able with all their tributes and Rents to do.  
Therefore thine own Reason and Argument being true, thou shalt never he Rich, until thy Possessions be so augmented and increased, that 
A Legion contains 12500. Soldiers  therewith thou mayst be able to maintain Syxe * Legions of Soldiers: beside a great number of Horsemen, and Footmen, which come to secure and aid.  
Now thou canst not choose, but confess thyself not to be Rich, sithence thou lackest so much, that thou canst not accomplish and fulfil thy wished desire.  
Therefore thou didst never dissemble and hide this thy poverty, or rather Needynes and beggary.  
For, as we well understand and know that those Men, which honestelye seek to increase their Wealth, by Enter course and Traffic of merchandise, by Letting out Woorckemen for Hire, by helping one an other: and by Ferming Customs, and Public Tolles, have need of the things which they seek for: So he that seeth at thy House the flocking Companies of Accusers, Complaynaunts, and judges, all at once: he that marketh the defendants and Guyltye Persons, being full of Money, going about and Practicing with Bribes, and Rewards (which they (which they learned of thee) to pervert and defeat the due course of justice & 
Shifts whereby Crassus got all his wealth  judgement: he that noteth thy legerdemain and crafty Bargains that thou makest with thy Clients: what reward thou shalt have for thy Patrociny and counsel in their Causes: for what sums of Money thou dost indente with those that be Competitors or Suitors for Office in general assemblies: be that calleth to memory, how thou sendest abroad & lettest out thy Slaves & Servants for hire, to shave and exact unmeasurable gains by usury of the Provinces: he that marketh how thou threatenest thy poor Neighbours & tenants out of their Houses and Fermes: he that considereth thy open Robberies abroad in the fields: he that calleth to mind how thou usest to be partaker and Copertener with poor Slaves, Libertes and Clients, & all for money: He that beholdeth the Houses and Possessions left void and unhabited, by reason that the poor farmers be expulsed: the Proscriptions, & Attendours of wealthy Personages: the Slaughter and Ransacking of incorporate Towns: He that perpendeth, the lamentable havoc & general Spoil, practised in Sylla his usurped Principality: he that recordeth the forged wills and Testaments: & the great number of Persons cast away & manquelled: & finally how all things were then sold for Money: Mustering of men: Decrees & Statutes: his own, and other men's Sentences also: judicial matters: his own House: his goodword & Voice: yea his silence & forbearing to speak: & all these sold for Money: who is he, but will think, that this man must confess, that he hath need of those things which he seeketh?  
And whosoever hath need of that thing which he toileth to get and gain, who can ever truly call him a Rich man? For, the Fruit of riches is in Plenty: which Plenty, the Satiety of things, and Abundance of Wealth 
He that hath need is not rich  bringeth: the which for as much as thou shalt never attain unto, thou shalt never be Rich.  
And because thou dost contemn my Substance & Wealth, and well too, (for it is after the Vulgar People's Assessment, mean & indifferent: in thine Opinion, in manner nothing: in mine own judgement, competent and measurable) I will say nothing of myself, but speak of thee.  
If we shall throughly weigh and consider the thing as it is, whether shall we more esteem the Money which King Pyrrhus sent to * Fabritius, or else 
Who being veryepoore refused great Sums of Money sent in reward to him from King Pyrrhus.  that Continency of Fabritius, who would not receive the same, being freely offered unto him?  
Whether shall we more weigh the great Mass and Sum of Gold, of the Samnites: or else the Answer of * M. Curius, to the Messengers that brought the same to him? the Inheritance of L. Paulus or else the liberality 
Who refused a great mass of Gold, sent unto him from the Samnites.  of Aphricanus, who gave his part and Portion of livelihood, to his Brother Quintus Maximus?  
Verily, these notable Examples being chief and principal points of most excellent Virtues, are more to be esteemed, than those that be the Members of Wealth, and Money.  
The cause therefore standing thus, that he which possesseth that thing which is most of all others to be esteemed, is consequently to be accounted the richest and Worthiest Man: who doubteth but that the True riches do 
True riches consist in virtue.  consist only in Virtue? For no Possession whatsoever, no Mass of Gold and Silver, is to be preferred or so much 
Not worldly treasure comparable to Virtue.  to be esteemed as Virtue. O immortal Gods Men do not perceive and understand, what a great Revenue & Rent, moderate Expenses & Parsimony is.  
For now will I leave to speak of this 
Magnum vectigal Parsimonia.  beggarly Lickepeny that prowleth all for Gain, & speak a little of prodigal Spenders & unmeasurable Wasters. There is some one, that may yearly dispend in Lands & Rents. 600. Sestertia: My Revenues amount scantly to one hundredth: 
Every Sestertium is in value 25. French Crowns  to such one, gorgeously Ceiling & gilting the roofs of his Manors & Country Houses, & paving his floors with fine Marble, and still desiring and infinitely coveting Pictures, Furniture, implements, and gallaun: Apparel, 
Immoderate expenses & need less charges, about the feeding of affections.  all the aforesaid Sum of Money will not only be too little to discharge the same, but also will scanclye suffice to pay the Annual usury, for the loan thereof.  
I do so qualify and bridle mine Affections under the reins of moderate Expenses, that out of my final yearly livelihood, somewhat remaineth at the 
Measurable spending best.  years end.  
Whether of us is ryther therefore? He that lacketh, or else he that hath more than he spendeth? He that is needy, or he that hath plenty? he whose possessions, the greater they be, the more is required to the maintenance of his 
Each man must spend according to his degree and calling.  port and state: or else he, that poyzeth his expenses and charges, according to the rate of his ability?  
But what mean I to speak of myself, who peradventure also through the iniquity and corruption of times & manners, am not altogether clear from the infection of this Error? Marcus Manilius who lived of late years, even in our Father's days and remembrance (because I will not always speak of such precise Fellows, as the Curij, and the Lucinij were) was a very poor man: for he dwelled in a small 
A Row of houses so called because they were built like to the heels of ships.  Cotage●, in the Street called * Carinae, and had a little plecce of Ground in Lycopum. Are we therefore which have greater possessions, richer than he? Would God we were.  
But the measure and consideration of Money & riches, is not to be made by the estimation and value of Wealth, but by convenient Meat, Drink, Cloth, and orderly living.  
It is a great Fee and Pension, not to be greedy and Covetous of Money: and not to be a Buyer, a Purchaser, or a Common Chapman, is a great Revenue. But to be contented with a man's Lot, and Vocation, and 
Contented life is the richest life.  to live quietiye and contentedly in his Calling, is the greatest and surest riches in the World.  
For if these lurking and Crafty Prycesetters of things do set an high price upon their Meadows and Spare Rooms, because such kind of Possessions, cannot lightly take any harm: How much more is Virtue to be esteemed, 
Causes why Virtue is chiefly to be esteemed.  which can neither be forcibly taken, nor privily stolen away from a Man: which also can neither be lost by Shipwreck, nor yet by casualty of Fire: and is never changed by any alteration of Tempests or times? where with whosoever be endued, are only Rich.  
For they only do possess the things that are both Fructuous, Perpetual and Permanent: and they alone (which is the very Property of riches) are contented with their Substance and State, whereunto they be called. They think that, which they presently enjoy, to be sufficient: they covet nothing: they lack nothing: they feel not themselves needy of any thing: they crave and require nothing.  
But wicked Persons, and covetous Pinchpenies, because their Possessions are uncertain and casual, and are ever desirous to gather & scrape more: (in so much that there was never yet any of them found which thought himself contented and pleased with his present Store) are not only not to be reckoned Wealth and Rich, but rather very Poor & garly.   
T. N.  
FINIS.   

A Philosophical Discourse of M. T. Cicero: entitled, SCIPIO HIS Dream.  
AFter my coming into Aphrique, being Marshal or tribune to the fourth Legion of Soldiers (as you know) under Anitius Manilius the Consul: I desired nothing so much, as to visit King * Masinissa: a 
King of Nun. dia  Prince for good causes & just respects, bearing most unfeigned goodwill to our House and Family. Unto whom when I came, the good old King embracing me, fell into weeping: and within a while after looking up toward Heaven, said these Words: I tender thanks unto thee, O Sovereign Sun, and unto all you other celestial Creatures, that before I depart out of this life. I do 
joy of friends at their Meeting.  see within mine own Territory and Kingdom, yea, and under the Roof of mine own House, my dear Friend P. Cornelius Scipio, with whose very name, I am singularly refreshed and comforted. For the remembrance of that most noble and invincible Man, never departeth out of my Mind.  
Then began I to question with him, concerning the state of his Kingdom, and he me of our Common wealth: & so, with much talk too and fro had, we spent all that Day.  
But afterward being entertained with Princely furniture and Courtesy, we continued our talk till far in the night: the old King speaking of nothing else, but of Africanus, & recoumptinge not only his valiant Acts, but also his wise and pithy sayings. After this, we went to Bed, where I being both weary with my journey, & having overwatched myself before, slept more soundly than I was wont & accustomed to do.  
Here me thought (and I verily 
Dreams, commonly represent to us in Sleep, those things we most earnestly delighted in and devised waking.  think that it so happened through the talk which we twaives had afore: For it is commonly seen, that our Cogitations and Talk, do represent and 'cause some such thing in our sleeps, as Ennius writeth of Homer, that is to say, such, as the Mind waking used oftenest to think, & talk on) Africanus appeared and showed himself unto me, in such a manner of Shape, whereby he was better known of me, by his Image, than he could have been by his own Person. Whom after that I knew, truly I shynered and was sore afraid. But (quoth he unto me) be of good Cheer, and lay aside all fear O Scipio, and commit well to Memory, such things as I shall tell thee.  
Dost thou not see yonder * City, which having been once heretofore compelled by me to yield obeisance to the Roman 
Carthage  people, reneweth old Grudges, seeketh new Wars, & cannot be quiet? & there withal he showed Carthage unto me, from an high & stelliferous, clear & lightsome place: to the Besieging & Conquest whereof, 
Being not above 28 or 29 years old.  thou now comest, being little more than out of thy service or time of * Soldier. This same shalt thou being Consul subvert, & destroy, within these two. years, & shalt thereby purchase & win a * Surname 
To be called Africanus.  to thyself, which thou hast as yet of us, by descent of Inheritance. And when thou hast spoiled & overthrown Carthage, Solennized a Triumphaunt Victory, borne the office of Censor, & been Lieutenant General into Egypt, Syria, Asia, & Grece,: thou shalt being absent, be chosen & elected the second time Consul, & shalt be the victorious General of a mighty Battle, & shalt Sack, & 
Scipio wined Carthage and Numantia.  utterly Ruinated Numantia. But when thou shalt at thy return enter into the Capitol, riding in a Chariot, thou shalt found that Common wealth marvelously fr●shed & disquieted through the ruflinge Stir, and Procurement of my * Nephew. 
Tib. Gracchus.   
Herein O Africanus, it shallbe very expedient and needful, that thou set to, thy helping hand, and show forth for thy countries sake and behoof, the haughty courage and undaunted prowess of thy Mind, Wit, and Counsel. But of that time, I do see (as it were) the way of Fate and Destiny to be very doubtful. For when thou shalt come to be Seven times Eight Winters, & 
56 years old.  summers old, and that these two numbers (whereof both are accounted full, the one for several cause from the other) shall accomplish and consummate the fatal term of the Years, which thou shalt live, with a natural Revolution: the whole City shall leave and repose her whole trust upon thee only, and upon thy name: Thee shall the Honourable Senate reverence: thee will all good Men 
A valiant & worthy Peer in a Realm is the sure Pillar and stay thereof.  honour: the will all Fellows and Confederates of the Roman People regard: thee, will the Latins, love and obey: in thee only, shall the safeguard and preservation of the City consist. And to be short, thou being installed in the office of Dictator, must needs redress the Abuses of the Common wealth, and set the same in good order: if thou mayest escape the cursed hands of thine own kindred and Lineage.  
At this last talk, Laelius with pitiful scritches, crying out, and all the residue greatly sorrowing, Scipio myldlye smile, said: I pray you do not awake me out of my Sleep, but be quiet and still, and hear the rest.  
But to the end (Africane) that thou shouldest have the more will and animosity to defend the weal public, make thy sure account of this: that unto all those which have been Maintainers, 
maintainers and protectors of their country.  Aiders, and Encreasers, of their Country, a certain and definite place is here in Heaven appointed, where they in blessed state shall live everlastingly.  
For there is nothing (namely done here on earth) which more pleaseth God (the most high Prince of all, who protecteth and governeth all this World) than the Congregations and Assemblies of men, lawfully linckinge and living together with faithful society & Brotherly 
What a City is  Fellowship, one with an other: which are called by the name of Cities. The upright Magistrates, and maintainers whereof, departing thence, shall hither return.  
Here, albeit I was sore afraid, & not so much for dread & fear of Death, as for the Treacherous Conspiracy, of some of mine own Kinsfolks: yet did I demand of him, whether my father 
Virtuous and worthy persons do live after death.  Paul, were yet living, and others more, whom we supposed, and thought to be dead. Yea undoubtedly (quoth be) they are alive, which he rid out of the Bends of their mortal Bodies, as out of a Prison. But that which you call Life, is Death. Yea, behold where thy Father 
This Life is no life  Paul cometh towards thee.  
Whom when I saw, certes, I shed great Abundance of Tears. But be embracing and kissing me, vadde me surcease my Blubbering.  
assoon as I had left Weeping, and was able to speak: I beseech you, most holy and worthy Father (quoth I) seeing this is the true Life (as I hear African say) why do I linger and tarry on Earth, and not hasten & make speed to come byther to you? Not so (quoth he) For unless God, who is the Owner 
We must not hasten our own Deaths, before our appointed tyme.  of all this Temple which thou seest, dismiss and discharge the from the custody of thy Body, there cannot be any Entry or Passage, open for thee to come hither.  
For Men be created to this end and condition, that they should manure and 
Why men were created.  inhabit yonder round Globe, or Ball, which thou seest in the Middle of this Temple, called the Earth. And to them is infused and geeven a Mind out from these everlasting Lights, which you call Planets and Stars: which being perfect round, and Bowlewise, inspired with Divine and heavenly power, do finish and execute their Revolutions, 
Quick motion of the Celestial Spheres.  Circles and Ordes, with marvelous Celerity and quickness.  
And therefore Public, it behoveth both thee, and all other godly Persons to keep still your Minds within the custody or Wardhouse of your Bodies, & not to departed out of your mortal life, without the commandment of him that first gave & inspired the same into you: lest 
Till God apointthe time, we must not seek to shorten the days of our life  in so doing, you should seem to refuse and start from the Function & office that is unto you, by God, appointed & assigned.  
But Scipio, see that thou embrace and maintain justice, and Piety: even as thy Grandfather here before thee, & I thy Father which begat thee, have done. Which, although in our Parents & Kinstolkes, it be great: yet namely and especially is it greatest in 
Love to our Country.  our native Country: for that Life is the right way into Heaven, and into this Fellowship and Company of them, which have now already finished their natural race on Earth, and being dismissed out of their Bodies, do inhabit this place of joy which thou seest.  
The place was a very white & shining Circle, resplendaunt among Flames, 
The Milk way, called now adays of some Watling street & of some the way to S. james.  (which you, as you have heard of the greeks) do term and call the Milkye Circle.  
Whereupon I perusing and viewing each thing, all the residue seemed both excellent and wonderful. And they were those Stars, which we never saw from this place: and the greatness & Magnitude of them, was so big, as we never thought they had been. Among whom, * that was the lest, which 
The Move hath no Light but of the Sun. The least fixed star perfectly seen is as big as the whole Earth. Alfraganus.  being furthest of from Heaven, and nearest to the Earth shined with borrowed Light. And the Globes of the Stars were a great Deal bigger than the whole Earth. Now the Earth itself seemed unto me so small, that I was even ashamed of our Empire & signory: being so little, that we enjoy & occupy, (but as it were) a small prick or point of it. Which when I had beheld, and looked on more steadfastly, I pray thee (quoth Africane) how long will thy Mind be pouring & fixed to the Groundward? Markest and considerest thou not, into what Temples thou art come and arrived? Behold all things are compacted and framed with Nine Orbs, or rather Globes, whereof one is the uttermost Heaven, which compasseth and containeth all the other within it: the most Sovereign & omnipotent God, holding and containing the others, in whom are fixed those Stars, which roll about and are carried with perpetual Revolutions.  
Under whom, are Seven, which 
Saturn the highest & slowest of the 7. Planets finisheth his course in 30 years. jupiter in 12 years.  make their Course backward, with contrary motion to the Heaven. Of whom, that possesseth one Globe, which on the Earth is named * Saturn  
Than next unto it, is that prosperous and lucky Brightness to Mankind, which hath to name * jupiter.  
Next is he, that is Ruddy & dreadful 
Mars in 2. years.  to the Earth, whom you call * Mars.  
Then even almost under the middle Region, the Sun reigneth as chief, 
The sun in 1. year.  the Guide, the Prince, and the Governor of all the residue of the Lights, that 
Venus in 9 months Mercury in 80. days  Life giver, the Mind and Temperature of the World: being so great and so big in quantity, that it searcheth & filleth all things, with his Shining. 
These ij, last be always near unto the Sun   
Him as Waiters and Companions do still follow, * Venus' and * Mercury in their Courses.  
And in the lowest Circle or Orb, the 
The Moon endeth hercourse in 28 days and hath no Light but of the Sun.  Moon lightened with the Rays or Beams of the Sun, hath her Revolution. Beneath this Globe of the Moon, there is nothing but that, which is mortal, transitory, and corruptible, saving only the Minds or Souls, which Almighty God hath geeven & inspired into Mankind. 
Souls immortal.   
Above the Moon all is Eternal & incorruptible. For the Earth which is middle and the ninth, is not moved 
All heavy things do sway downward.  and is lowest of all others, and unto it are all ponderous and heavy things, even with their own sway, carried.  
Which thing when I (as one greatly astonished) much mused and marveled to see: after I was come to myself again: what sweet noise and melodious 
The sweet harmony in the motion of the Celestial Bodies.  Harmony is this, (quoth I) that thus delighteth and filleth mine ears? This is (quoth he) that Tune compact with uneven Distances (but yet according to that rated proportion of that parts, distinct, & different) which is caused and made through the swift Revolution & moving of these same Orbs: which tempering Sharpes with Flattes, proportionally, causeth sundry tunes of Harmony. For (truly) such great and swift Motions, cannot be moved and incited with Silence: and natural Course & Order requireth, that the Extremes on the one side should give a Flat sound, & on the other, a Sharp.  
For which cause, the highest Course of the Starry Heaven, whose whirling about & Revolution is swifter & quicker, 
Starry Firmament.  is moved with a Sharp and Shrill sound: But this lowest Course of the Moon is moved with a very Base and Flat sound. 
moons heaven.   
For the Earth being the ninth, is lumpish and unmovable, and sticketh 
Earth.  fast always in the lowest Seat, compassing and vecispping the middle place of the World. And those Eight Courses, in which is one self same 
Venus & Mercury  strength and time of * twain, do make notes distinct with Seven Stops & Distances, which* number is (in a manner) 
The Septenary number hath tn it many and mystical conclusions. Aul. Gel.  the Knot of all things. Which, Learned men with Strings and songs perceiving and imitating, have opened a way to theimselues to have access into this Place: as there likewise have been some others, who being men of most pregnant & excellent wits in their life time, honoured and applied divine Studies.  
This sound so filled men's ears, that there with they become dunch and deaf. Neither is any Sense in you blunter or duller: as it is in them which dwell near where the River Nilus at the place called 
Nilus.  Catadupa, falleth down from very high & steep Mountains with a most 
Catadupa  violent and headlong fall, in such sort, that the people which dwell and inhabit near there about, forth incredible greatness of the noise and sound, are generally all deaf. And this noise of that whole World, by reason of his most vehement & quick conversion and moving is so great, that the ears of men are not able to conceive and comprehend it: like as you are not able to look steadfastly upon the Sun direct against you with your eyes: but with the rays & beams thereof your sight dazzleth and your Sense is overcome.  
Although I greatly wondered hereat, yet did I now & then cast mine eyes 
worldly things are to be contemned, & heavenly things to be desired  toward the ground. Then spoke African unto me, saying: I perceive, that thou yet still castest an eye towards yonder seat and habitation of Men: which if it seem unto thee (as it is in deed) very little and small, cast thine eyes always towards these Heavenly things, & contemn those mortal and humane matters. For what celebrity of fame canst thou obtain by the talk and report of Men, or what Glory canst thou there win, worthy to be desired? Thou seest the dwellings and habitable places which men have on earth, be in sere places and narrow corners: yea & in the same also (which are but as it were certain spots or pricks, where they do inhabit) thou seest great Deserts & waste wilderness to be laid between and interiected. Also thou seest them which 
How the world is habitable  devil upon the Earth, be not only so interrupted and dissevered in situation that nothing between them can pass from one to another: but partly they dwell awry from you, partly overthwart 
This is because of the roundness & globosity of the earth  to you, & some directly against you, at whose hands you can not look to receive any glorious Fame & Renown. Thou seest also the same Earth environed & compassed about, as it were with certain girdles, whereof thou seest two, most divers, & contrarily distant, one from the other, lying under the * Poles, of Heaven, on both sides, to be ever stiff 
Arctic and Antarcticke.  with extreme chilling & Frost. That which is in the middle, and is the greatest, is broiled with continual and excessive heat of the parching Sun.  
Two are habitable, whereof the one 
Antipodes which in respect of the roundness of the world seem to dwell underneath us, & to set their feet against ours.  is Southward, and they that dwell therein, do set their * feet against yours, and belong nothing to your kind. The other which lieth toward the north wherein you dwell, mark how slender a Portion thereof cometh to your share. For all the Earth which is inhabited of you, being narrow at the Poles, & brother at that sides, is a little small Island environed with that Sea, which you on earth call the Atlantic, the Great, & the main 
Nothing deserveth to be called great in this world.  Ocean Sea. Which notwithstanding these his glorious names and great titles, how small it is, thou seest.  
From these inhabited and known Lands, was either thy name, or the name of any of us, able to reach either beyond 
The greatest hill in the world called also Taurus.  this hill * Caucasus which thou seest, or else to swim over yonder river * Ganges? Who in the rest of the uttermost and furthest parts of the East, or West, North or South, shall hear tell of thy 
A river in India viij. miles over in the narrowest place, xx. in the brodeest, & an 100 foot deep in the shalowest place  name?  
These being amputated and cut of, certes, thou seest in what narrow straits your glory is able to extend & stretch itself. As for them that shall speak of you, alas, how long shall they speak?  
Furthermore if your Successors, & they that shall come after, were desirous and willing to blaze abroad and leave to their Posterity the worthy praises of every one of us, which they have heard 
worldly fame, renown, & glory, is but vanity and to no purpose.  of their fathers, yet by reason of the Deluges, and Inundations of waters, and the burnings of Lands which of necessity must happen at a certain time, our glory which we may attain, shallbe not only not eternal, but also not so much as of any continuance.  
And what skilleth it to be talked of & remembered by them, which shallbe born hereafter, sithence there was no report made by them which were borne before: who (doubtless) were neither fewer in number, and certes, were better Men a great deal? Especially sigh among them unto whom the report of our Fame may be heard, no man is able to bear any thing in memory, the space of one year. For commonly men do reckon a year only by the course and Revolution of the Sun, that is to wit, of one Planet.  
But in very deed when all the Signs & Stars of the Firmament are come again to the same point, from whence they once set out, and begin anew their former description of the whole Heaven, after long space and tract of time: then may that be truly named the Turning year, where in how many men's Ages are contained, I dare scarcely report. For as the Sun erst seemed to be eclipsed & dimmed at that time, when the Soul of Romulus ascended into these Temples: so when soever the Sun in the same part, and in that same time, shall again 
A full and complete year after Plato.  be obscured and darkened, then (all the Stars and Signs being revoked back to their self same first beginning) account thou & reckon it, for a full, complete & perfect Year. And this know further, that the twentieth part of this Year, is not yet expired and run out.  
Therefore if thou despair of thy return into this Place, wherein all things are for Noble and worthy Personages, how much worth than is this fading glory of Men, which can scarcely last and reach, even unto a small part of one Year?  
Therefore if thou wilt lift up thine eyes on high, and view this Habitation 
The deep consideration of heaven & heavenly joys easily draweth a godly man from the love of this world.  & eternal Mansion, thou shalt neither be affectioned to give thyself to the talk of the vulgar people, neither repose thy hope and confidence in worldly promotions, & advancement. For it must be only Virtue herself, which must with her allurements draw thee to the true Honour & renown.  
What others do speak & talk of thee, let they themselves look: but yet talk 
True honour must be gotten by virtue only  they will. But all their talk is both enclosed within the straits of yonder Regions which thou seest: neither hath their talk talk been of any man perpetual: it both dieth when the Men die, and is utterly quenched with that oblivion of Posterity.  
When he had thus said, certes (qd I) O Africane, if to the well deservers of their Country, there lieth as it were a path, open to thentry of Heaven, albeit from my childhood, walking in my Father's steps & yours, I have ven nothing behind with my duty, to achieve, and further your renown, yet now seeing so great a reward set out & propounded, I will eudevour & bend myself thereunto 
Honour is a spirit to noble minds.  far more diligently.  
Do so (quoth he) and make thy sure account of this, that it is not thou, which art mortal: but it is this Body of thine: neither art thou that, which thy outward Form & shape declareth: but the Mind 
A man is his Mind.  and Soul of every Man is he: and not that figure & shape which may be pointed & showed with the finger. Therefore know this, that thou art a God, if (forsooth) a God be that, which liveth, which 
The mind ruleth and directeth the body  feeleth, which remembreth, which foreseeth, which doth so well rule, govern & move that Body over whom it is appointed Ruler, as that most high prince God, doth this World.  
And as God being himself eternal, doth move this World, being in some part mortal: so likewise the Mind being sempiternal, doth move the body being frail and transitory: for that which is ever moved, is eternal. But that which bringeth motion to another, and which self same, is moved from elsewhere, when it hath an end of moving, needs must it have an end of living also.  
Therefore that only which moveth itself, because it is never forsaken nor left of itself, never (truly) ceaseth it not to be moved. Moreover, this is the fountain and beginning of moving to all other things that are moved. And the beginning hath no original: For all things proceed and spring from a Beginning, but itself can be made of nothing.  
For that which should have generation elsewhere, could not be a beginning.  
So therefore if it never spring and begin, neither doth it ever die. For the Beginning being extinct, neither shall itself ever grow again out of an other, neither shall it created any other of itself. For all things must needs spring from a Beginning. And so it cometh to pass. that the beginning of moving is, because it is moved of itself, and it can neither breed nor die: or else the whole Heaven would fall down, and all Nature would of necessity stand at a stay, and not obtain any force and power whereby to be moved with his first impulse and motion. sithence therefore it plainly appeareth, that what soever is moved of itself, is eternal: who is he that dareth to deny this Nature to be geeven to Minds for that is without life, which is moved with external force and motion: but that which is a Soul, is moved with internal & proper moving: for this is the nature and power that is peculiar to a Soul. Which if it be one & the alone thing of all, which moveth itself, certes it was neither borne, & is also eternal. This see that thou exercise in the best things.  
And the best cares that a man can take, are such as tend to the avail & profit 
Best cares that aman can next after God employ his mind unto.  of our Country. In which cares the mind being enured and practised, shall have speedier access & arrival into this Habitation, as into his proper Mansion place: and the sooner shall it do so, if then, when it is enclosed in the Body, it surmount abroad, and beholding those things, that are outwardly, do greatly withdraw itself, as much as is possible from the Body.  
For the Minds of them that have enthralled & given themselves to bodily Pleasures, and have made themselves (as it were) the Bondslaves & ministers thereof: and by the egginge and procurement of sensual Lust and Appetite obeying 
Voluptuous livers.  Pleasures, have profaned and violated the Laws both of God & man: those men when they be dismissed and delivered out of their bodies, are tumbled and tossed about the Earth, and do not return into this Place, till they have been pursued & turmoiled many hundredth years. He departed: and I immediately awaked out of my Sleep.  
Thomas Newtonus, Cestreshyrius.  
FINIS.   

 

  

  

  

   

The Table  

A  
ACcusation. 29.  
Acquaintance, new and old. 30.  
Adolescency. 47. 55. 59 61. 62. 63. 69. 75. 77, 80, 81. 82. 83. 84.  
Adultery. 65. 101.  
Affection 102. must be bridled. 104. 113. 116.  
Agamemnon 60.  
Age. 61  
Agreement. 42.  
All things return to that, whereof they had their first beginning. 87.  
Ambition, a great plague to perfect friendship. 26. 113.  
Anger. 109.  
Antipodes. 129.  
Antonius. 109. 114.  
Apollo. 3. 85.  
Apparel. 119.  
Appius Claudius being old and blind, had a noble courage. 53. A perfect pattern of a noble Gentleman, and worthy householder. 63.  
Archytas Tarentinus. 37. 64.  
Argantonius lived 120 years. 81.  
Astronomy. 70.  
Athenians. 68  
Atticus, why so named. 45.  
ancientness in familiarity. 30.  
Augur. 78.  
Authority, the chiefest ornament of old-age. 77. 79. 119.   

B  
banishment. 99 dreadful and terrible, to whom. 100  
Banished man, who. 108.  
Banqueting moderately used, commendable. 67  
Baibilles'. 112.  
Bawdry. 103.  
Benefits, confirm love and Friendship. 14  
Best dwelling for old-age. 78.  
Bias one of the seven wise Sages. 26. 96.  
Blosius his desperate answer. 17.  
Body, the prison or jail of the Soul. 85. 124 the wardhouse of the soul. 125.  
Bona Dea, her temple. 108.  
Bondslave to Vices. 109.  
Bondslave, who, 110, 111. 112.  
Bondage what it is properly ibid.  
Bounds of Friendship 17. 25.  
bribery. 73, 117.  
Brutus' 87. 96.  
Bud. 72.  
Buildings sumptuous. 95. 111.   

C  
Coecilius. 62.  
Care of each noble and worthy man. 20. after a sort, incident to Virtue. 21. 22.  
Care, rather to live well, then long. 81.  
Carinae, a street, or Row of houses in Rome. 120.  
Carthage conquered by Scipio. 54. 122.  
Catadupa. 128.  
cattle. 96.  
Cato Called wise, why. 34. 47. his wise saying 38. learned the Greek tongue in his old age. 46. 57 63. his sundry Offices and service in the common wealth. 54. 64. a perfect Stoic. 91. 97.  
Caucasus. 129.  
Cethegus. 113.  
Chaff. 101.  
Children in friendship, new fangled & fickle. 16.  
Choice of friends. 26. 27. 28. 36.  
chiding. 34. 38. when and how to be used, ibid. & 39 42.  
Circles of the celestial motions. 125.  
City. 105. 106. 107. 124.  
Citizen. 105. 107.  
Clawbacks and dissembling friends, worse than plain enemies. 38. how they may be known and discerned. 39  
Cleanthes. 56.  
Cleopatra. 110.  
Clownish life without friends, irksome and unpleasant. 25.  
Coffers stuffed with money, maketh not the rich man, but a contented Mind. 116.  
Comforting & cheering of distressed friends. 26  
Common wealths upholden by grave oldmen, weakened by young & youthful officers. 55. 80.  
Community of all things among friends. 27.  
Comparison. 79. 82.  
Conscience. 100  
Conscience of virtuous Life, comfortable. 49.  
Consenting to the request of friends, against the weal of our country, unlawful. 20.  
Conspiracy against the common wealth with all extremity to be punished. 20. whence it proceedeth. 64.  
Constancy. 4. 28. 29. 42. 85. 99 102. 106.  
Contented life rich. 115. 120.  
Contention. 16.  
Continuance of friendship: ibid.  
Coriolanus, moved with the unkindness of his  
Country, warred against it, and last of all killed himself. 17. 20.  
Cornelius Gallus an Ancient & excellent Astronomer. 70.  
Corinthian works. 97. 111. 112.  
Coruncanus. 8. 18. 53. 58. 66.  
Courage. 98.  
Covetousness a plague to Friendship. 16. in old men. 79. ever needy and never satisfied 96. 120. in the old time abhorred. 96. 110.  
counsellors, grave & wise, the stays of common wealths. 53.  
Crassus, 114. whom he accounted rich. 116. his shifts to get money. 117.  
Currours. 74.  
Courteous manners. 29.  
Custom. 30.  
Custom of such strict and virtuous life, as was in the old time, now clean gone. 19  
Custom of the Pythagoreans, to debate & call into remembrance every evening, all things said, done, or heard, the day before. 63.  
Cybele, Lady great Mother of the Gods. 67.  
Cyneas. 66.  
Cyrus. 75. a prince virtuous and fortunate. 76. 86 87.   

D  
Danaus'. 116.  
Death. 7. not to be feared. 80. 83. not to be bewailed ibid. spareth no age. ibid. hour and time thereof uncertain. 80. 83. the Haven of rest 82. 99 Fear thereof causeth a troubled and unquiet mind. 83. despised even of common persons. 84. desired of the Godly, and feared of the wicked 88 terrible, to whom. 100 must not be hastened before the appointed time. 125.  
Death of friends grievous. 4.  
Decius, 66. 84. 97.  
Delights in husbandry. 71. 73.  
Delights peculiar to every several age. 84.  
Democritus. 56.  
Departure of friends one from another. 32. 33.  
Desire of honour. 113.  
Destiny. 123.  
Dictator, what officer he was. 74.  
Diet of the Body and mind resembled to a Lamp. 62.  
Difference between the powers of the body and of the mind. ibid.  
digging. 72.  
Dignity of the mind and Soul. 65.  
Diligence preposterous. 27. 38.  
Diogenes Stoicus. 56.  
Discord. 11.  
Dishonesty. 109.  
Dishonest point, to fall out with him, that hath been an old familiar friend. 33.  
Dissimulation. 29. 39  
Dotage. 63.  
Dreams. 122.  
Drudge. 113.  
Drudgery. ibid.  
Dunginge of Land. 72.   

E  
EArth round like a Ball. 125. 126. loweste, lumpish, and unmovable. 127. how it is habitable. 129.  
Earthly matters, contrary to heavenly. 85.  
Echion a cunning Painter. 112.  
Eloquence. 92.  
Empedocles opinion, that the world & all things, consisted of Friendship. 11.  
End of living best. 82.  
Enemy. 108.  
Ennius. 10. 44. 50. 52 83. 122.  
Epicures opinion of Friendship. 20. repose all felicity in pleasure. 66.  
Epitaphe. 55. 77.  
Equality in friendship. 30. 31.  
Equalite of faults. 103.  
Every man meddle with no more than he can well compass. 61.  
Every age hath his proper season. ibid.  
Excuse for doing ill, to pleasure our friend not allowable. 18.  
Exercises for young men. 75.  
Exercises for old men, ibid.  
Exercises of wit, 63.  
Exile. 108.  
Expenses moderate, a great revenue. 119.   

F  
Fabius' praised. 50. 51. 53.  
Fabritius. 8. 13. 53. 66. 97. 118.  
Face wrinkled not the cause of authority & credit. 77.  
Faithfulness. 28. 99  
Fame of worthy men, never dieth. 43. 107.  
Familiarity. 30.  
Faults in old-age how to be redressed. 62.  
Faults in manners. 79.  
Fear is Bondage. 113. 114.  
Fear of death what it causeth. 83.  
Feasting. 67.  
Fee. 120.  
Felowshippes'. 35.  
Fishpond. 112.  
Firmament. 127.  
Flattery & dissembling, worse than open enmity 29. getteth friends now adays. 38. to be eschewed. ibid. the greatest plague to truefrend ship. 39 which kind of it is most hurtful. ibid. who are most hurt thereby, & who listen most thereto. 41. of a little maketh a great deal ibid. slily done, most carefully to be taken heed of ibid.  
Fond delights. 111.  
Forgery. 116.  
Fortune. 24. 99 110.  
Four causes why old-age seemeth miserable. 52.  
Forum what it was. 106. 107. 108.  
Free who. 109. 110.  
Freeman 109. described. 110. 113. 114.  
Friend is as a man his own self. 11. 34. best known in time of Adversity. 23.  
Friends perfect, very few 7. wherefore they are are too be sought. 12. must not flatter one an other. 20. the best treasure of all other. 24. 4●. when, how and for what causes, they may lawfully be forsaken, and geeven over. 33. must be admonished and friendly chidden. 38. effects thereof. 43. whether new or old friends be better. 29. departure one from another. 3●. 33. must be Good men. 35. rejoice when they meet together. 122.  
Friendship what it is. 7. 9 to be preferred before all worldly things. 8. agreeable to nature, and fit both for Prosperity and Adversity. ibid. cannot be but among Good men. ibid. excelleth kindred. 9 the best Gift, next unto wisdom ibid. can not be but where virtue is ibid. & 18. commodities thereof. 10. 11. as necessary as the Elements. ibid. how far it is perdonable 27. generally profitable 36. property thereof 3. 9 bounds. thereof. 17. 25. without all cogginge and dissimulation. 13. natural, ibid. 15. 34. not to be sought for profit sake, but for virtue. 14. 21. 34. continuance thereof. 16. new fangled in children & not durable. ibid. plagues belonging to it. ibid. hard to be found among great men. 28. best judgement of it, at full grown Age. 32. compared to the Sun shining in the world. 21. rejoiceth at their friends welfare, and sorroweth at their mishap 22. geeven by nature for an aid to virtue. 35 generally praised. 36. most plainly appeareth in men of equal and like age. 42.  
Friendship of vulgar or common sort 33. only for gain, and money now adays. 34.  
Fruit of old-age. 81.  
Fruit of Wit and Virtue. 31.  
Furniture. 119. 122.   

G  
Gain. 119.  
Ganges. 129.  
Gapers for other men's Death. 113.  
garden. 74.  
Garrison of this life must be kept, till God, our captain discharge us thence. 83.  
geometry. 70.  
Gifts of the mind, the truest richesse. 3.  
Gifts of Fortune. 25.  
Glory, 35. 88  
Gnato. 39 41.  
God. 125. 126.  
Godly persons desire Death. 88  
Goddess of Eloquent speech. 70.  
Gold. 73. 97. 101. 102. 119.  
Good for every man in his convenient time & Age to die. 90.  
Good man. 29. 96.  
goodwill and hearty frendlynesse among good men, 23. more to be regarded then profit. ibid. to be desired. 27. 42.  
Gorgias Leontinus his worthy old-age. 51. 56.  
Graffinge. 72.  
Grape. 72. 73.  
Gravity, 50. 77. 99  
Granting an unlawful suit, as great an offence as to request it. 18.  
Grave hairs bring not straightways Authority and estimation. 77.  
Grief of mind incident to wisemen. 21.  
Gross error to think the soul to die together with the body. 6.   

H  
HAnnibal. 13. 84.  
Happy life. 35.  
Harmony, in the motion of the Celestial Bodies. 127.  
Hawkinge. 74.  
heavenly things only to be desired. 129.  
heavy things sway downward. 127  
Hesiodus. 56. 73.  
Homer. 56. 122.  
Honest men obey laws, not for fear, but for love of virtue. 110.  
Honour, wealth, and riches, change manners. 24. how truly to be gotten. 130.  
Horatius Cocles, a valiant Gentleman. 97.  
Household stuff. 96.  
Housholder. 63.  
Hunting. 74.  
husbandry. 71. 73. in old time the delight and life of Noble men. ibid. a blessed kind of life. 74. both necessary & profitable. 74. 76.   

I  
IL ruling another, who cannot rule himself 109.  
Image of Minerva. 92.  
Immortality of the Soul. 6. 85.  
Inferiors must not repined at their superiors. 31  
Instructing of youth, an excellent and worthy function. 59  
joy of friends at their meeting. 122.  
Isocrates his lusty old age. 52.  
jupiter one of the seven. planets, in what time he fully runneth his course. 126.  
judge. 113.  
justice the link or Bond of all cities. 106.   

KING  
Kill himself, a thing wicked and horrible. 83.  
Kinffolke. 124.  
Knights which died for for the honour & safeguard of their country. 84.  
Knowledge. 59 86.   

L  
Lacedæmonians 54. most of all others, honoured old-age. 78.  
Lack of health. 62. 69.  
Lack of wealth. 116. 117.  
Laelius, & Scipio, ij faithful & perfect Friends. 2. 7. 14. 43. A very wiseman. 3. 46.  
Lamentation for the Death of Friends. 5. 6.  
Lampraye. 112  
Law called Gabinia & Cassia, what it was. 19  
Law called Cincia what it was. 50.  
Law called Voconia, what it was. 42.  
Learning and liberal Artes. 59 92. comforteth and armeth a man against all extremities and assays. 100  
Learned men, fittest to decide controversies. 103  
Legacy. 52. 115.  
Legion. 116.  
Liberty, what it is. 109.  
Life, which is only & truly worthy to be so called 85. in this world, full of misery & trouble. 88 not worthy to be called life, 124. compared to a lodging or Inn for a small while. 89.  
Life contented, the richest life. 115. 120.  
Likeness of manners and delights, causeth friendship. 22.  
Like delighteth, and draweth to like. 43. 48.  
love. 13. confirmed by benefits and mutual courtesies. 14. what it is. 42.  
Love to our Parents. ●1. 125.  
Love to our Country. 125.  
Love toward our friends, being against their profit, is fond and foolish. 32. being taken away, all pleasantness of this life is taken away. 34.  
Livius Andronicus. 70.  
Livelode. 119.  
Lucre. 115.  
Lombardy, sometime called Gallia Cisalpina. 51.  
Lust, 66. 101. 102. 109. 111. 116.  
Lycopum. 120.  
Lysander. 75. 78.   

M  
MAgistrate. 103. 106. 124.  
Magnanimity. 98.  
Man virtuous and worthy, not borne in vain. 89.  
Man is his Mind. 130.  
Man most happy, who. 99 created why. 125.  
Man void of all Affections, compared to a Log, or stone. 22.  
Manners of men often change. 16.  
Manilius. 120. 121.  
Marcellus. 84.  
M. Curius. 8. 13. 18. 46. 53. 66. 73. 74. 97. 112. 118. 120  
Many rather desire to seem, then to be virtuous 41.  
Mainteynors of their country 524.  
Marius, a pattern of noble constancy, and patience. 99  
Mariner. 101.  
Mars, one of the seven. Planets, in how many years he finisheth his course and revolution. 126.  
Masinissa a worthy and painful prince. 61. 121.  
Memory. 55.  
Mercury, one of the seven. Planets. 126. the time of his course. ibid. & 127.  
merchandise. 117.  
Metellus, strong and lusty in his old-age. 59  
Milo Crotoniata, his effeminate speech reprehended. 58. carried a living Ox upon his shoulders the space of a furlong. 61.  
Mind why inspired into man. 85. is only it which maketh a man Rich. 115. 116. his dignity and excellency. 65. 98. immortal 86. invisible. ibid. chiefly liveth after it is rid out of the body. 88 99 111. 114. 125. 130. 132.  
Mind wavering and mutable. 39  
Mind of a wiseman, unconquerable. 105.  
Minerva. 92.  
Milk way, or Milky Circle, in heaven what it is. 125.  
Modest bashfulness. 35.  
Money, 28. 95. 115. 116. 117. 118. 119. 120.  
Moon the least & lowest of the planets. 126. hath no light but of the Sun. ibi. in what time and space she runneth her course 127, be neath & under it, all is corruptible, mortal & transitory, except Souls. ibid. above it, all eternal & incorruptible. 127: her heaven. ibid.  
Most Friendship now a days, for most money 34.  
Motion of the Planets, & celestial bodies. 125.  
Mummius wan Corinth. 112.  
Mutius Scaevola. his valiant enterprise. 97.   

N  
Naevius. 70.  
Nature the best Guide to direct our lives by. 8. cannot be altered. 15. loveth her like 22. loveth no solitariness. 37. hath her limitation, of living. 90.  
Necessity, trieth a Friend. 24.  
Negligence. 36. 101.  
Nestor lived. 300. years. 60.  
Nilus. 128.  
Noble men, Husbandmen. 74.  
Noble Nature's desire to win honour, and to leave a fame and memorial behind them. 87.  
No man so Old, but hopeth to live one year longer. 56.  
Nothing evil which cometh by necessity of Nature. 47.  
Nothing long or of continuance in this world 81.  
Nothing better than good. 102.  
Not unlawful request, aught to be granted. 18 19  
Nurse. 32.  
Numa Pompilius. 96.  
Numantia. 123.   

O  
Ocean. 129.  
Offence. 101. 104. 105.  
old-age 5. no hinderer from dealing in public offices and functions. 53. Surmised to be wretched, because it is weak and wearish. 58. lacking strength. 61. dispensed withal, and privileged from dealings of main strength and labour. ibid. Sickelye ibid. Surmised to lack pleasures. 64. Qualifieth all ill motions. 66. 67. allowed moderately to banquet. 67. hath pleasures enough and competent, 69. what kind of old-age is pleasantest. ibid. & 73. most commendable. 77. Talkative and full of words. 73. what is the chiefest honour and ornament thereof. 77. testy and captious. 79. Misliked because it is near death. 80. Fruits thereof. 81. hath no certain number of years appointed how long to last. 82. stout and courageous. ibid. bragging and praising themselves and their former deeds. 87. Lusty. 59 must be resisted. 62. wherein honourable. 63. prerogative thereof. 78. last part or final end of this life. 90.  
Old betimes, who would be old long. 60.  
Old young age commendable. 63.  
Oldmen delight in the lovingness of young men 42. 57 wrongfully charged to be oblivious, 55. forget not where they lay their purses, or hide their treasure. ibid. wayward. 79. who, are called by Caecilius, foolish. 62. studious. 70 their exercises 75. where the best dwelling for them was, and where they were most reverenced. 78. severe. 79. covetous ibid. endued with profoundness of reason. good counsel and grave advise. 80. die with less pain than young men, and more agreeably to Nature. 82.  
One good and virtuous man, more to be regarded, than many rich Cobs, being wicked. 97.  
Oppression. 105.  
Oracle of Apollo. 3.  
Oration of Scipio, pythye. 40.  
Orbs of the planets & Celestial Bodies. 125. nine. 126.  
Order. 105.  
originals, a Book so entitled and penned by old Cato. 63. 84.   

P  
Paysaunt. 111.  
Papyrius. 40.  
Paradoxa. what it signifieth. 93. Socratical and true. 94.  
Parsimonye. 119.  
Partaking with Friends in trouble. 28.  
Pelf and worldly wealth. 96.  
Pension great, not to be covetous. 120.  
Phidias a notable Image maker. 94.  
Picaenum, in Italy, how now called. 51  
Picture, 97. 111. 112. 119.  
Pisistratus the tyrant. 82.  
Planets. 125.  
planting. 73.  
Plate. 97. 111.  
Plato how he lived in his old-age, and how he died. 51. 56. 66. 67. his reasons, proving the immortality of the Soul. 86.  
Plautus. 70.  
Playfelowes in youth. 32.  
Pleasure. 15. beastly and pernicious. 64. 65. 132. Wellspring of all Vices. 65. must be abandoned. ●09. contrary to virtue. 66. Bait of mischief 67. hard to resist the allurements thereof. ibid. in some respects tolerable. 68 Ytch thereof. ibid. most in young men. 69.  
Pleasure of learning and knowledge, excelleth all other pleasures. 70.  
Plenty. 118.  
Praise due to Virtue. 98.  
pravity of the mind. 102.  
Principality. 113.  
Profit by Friendship. 23.  
Promotion. 36.  
Propertie of a well stayed mind. 21.  
Protectors of their country. 124.  
Proverb. 30.  
Prison of the Soul. 85. 87.  
Poet: 105.  
Poles of heavenl. ij. 129.  
Polycletus, a cunning Imagerer. 112.  
Porsenna. 97.  
Possessions. 119. 120.  
poverty and old-age ij. heavy burdens to bear. 52.  
Pylades and Orestes 11.  
Pilot of a ship. 53. 101.  
Pyrrhus. 13. 53. 66. 73. 118.  
Pythagoras. 56. 61. 83. 85.  
Pythagoreans custom. 63. 85.  
Punishment. 104. 108.  
pursuivants. 74.   

Q  
QValification of vices. 109. of affections. ibid.  
Qualities of the mind. 62. 112.  
Questions brief & compendious. 92.  
Quick motion of the Celestial Spheres. 125.  
Quietness. 21.  
Quincuncie, what it is. 76.   

R  
Rashness, incident to young men. 55.  
Realm, nobly protected by worthy Gentlemen. 1●5.  
Reason. 102. 105 Regulus Attilius. 84. 98.  
Remorse of conscience. 113.  
Request of one friend to another. 18. 20. 32. 35.  
Requital of courtesies. 22.  
Resistance against Nature. 48.  
Respect in preferment of Friends. 32.  
Revenue. 119. 120.  
Reverence to elders and betters. 30.  
Reverence to Parents. 104.  
reverent awe in Friendship. 35.  
Revolutions of the celestial Bodies. 125.  
Right in a penny, aswell as in a pound. 102.  
riches. 24. 36. 95. fruit thereof. 117. consisteth only in virtue. 119 whereby to be measured, 120. property thereof. ibid. possessed many times by evil and naughty men. 96.  
Rich man being foolish, very tedious and wearisome in company. ibid.  
Rich who. 115. 119. who not rich. 118.  
Riot. 16.  
Rome 105.  
Romulus. 96. 130.   

S  
Satiety of life. 84. 90.  
Saguntines'. 103.  
Saying most repugnant to Friendship, 26.  
Samnites. 118.  
Saturn the highest Planet. 126. in what time. he fully finisheth his course. ibid.  
Scipio a worthy Gentleman. 5. 6. 23. a perfect & steadfast friend to Laelius. 2. 7. 14. 43. Subdued Carthage and Numantia. 5. 54. 70. 84. 97. 122. 133.  
Sea Atlantic. 129.  
Senate and Senators why so named. 54. delighted in thold time in husbandry, 74. 106.  
Sensuality. 15. 65. 98. 109. 132.  
Septenarye number, mystical. 127.  
Sestertium, what it is in value. 119.  
Severity in measure, allowable. 79.  
Shame. 109.  
Shifts unhonest to get wealth. 115.  
Shypwracke. 120.  
Short things sufferable. 43.  
Shrylnesse of voice. 59  
Simonides. 56.  
Sin 101. unlawful. 102. 103.  
Sink of all mischief. 89.  
Slave. 112.  
Slaverye most vile. 112. 113. what it is. 114.  
Sleep, an Image of death. 87.  
Socrates, the only wiseman of the world. 3. 56. 85. learned to play upon musical Instruments in his Old days. 58. his manner of disputing. 103.  
Summer. 85.  
Solitariness. 37.  
Solon waxed every day older by learning daily more and more. 57 70. his stout answer to a Tyrant, 82. 83.  
Sophocles. 55. accused by his own Sons of Dotage. 56. his answer touching carnal concupiscence. 69.  
Soothing and holding up with yea and nay. 38  
Souls. 85. Immortal. 88 89. 90. 127.  
Spartacus, a notable Ruffian and Rebel. 107.  
Speech myeld & courteous, commendable in old men. 59  
Spending prodigally. 119. measurably & rateably to our gettings. ibid.  
Spring. 72. 81.  
Stability of Friendship. 34. 42.  
Stage player. 104.  
Stars. 125. bigger than the Earth. 126.  
Starry Firmament. 127.  
Statius. 36.  
Stepping aside a little from honesty, to save thereby the credit or life of our friend. 27.  
Stesichorus. 56.  
Studies appropriate to each several age. 84.  
Suada, Goddess of Eloquence. 70.  
Sufficiency is wealth enough. 116.  
Sullenness. 29.  
Sun the chiefest, greatest and most sovereign light. 126. In what time he performeth his Revolution. ibid.  
Superiors, must help and relieve Inferiors. 30  
Suspicion. 29.  
Syllable in life. 105.   

T  
TAbles. 97. 111. 112.  
Talebearers and tale creditors. 29.  
Talk. ibid.  
Tarqvinius. 13. how and when he tried his friends. 24. 96.  
Taunt rebounded. 50.  
Terence. 79.  
Terentius Varro, slain. 84.  
Themistocles. 20. 49. his excellent memory. 55.  
Thermopylae, a mountain in Greece. 60.  
Thetica. 93.  
Things fair and beautiful, how to be esteemed 112.  
Things excellent, rare, and hard. 34.  
Thraso. 41.  
Three supposed special opinions of friendship. 25.  
Tiberius Gracchus. 17. 19 123.  
tillage. 74. 75.  
Timon, an hater of all company. 37.  
Torment of a wicked and guilty conscience. 100  
Tranquillity of mind. 35.  
Trial of Friends. 27. 28.  
Truth. 38. 40.  
Treasure not comparable to Virtue. 119.  
Treason. 64.  
Treachery ibid.  
Tusculane Questions. 93.  
Tutors to children. 32.  
Time passeth away. 81.  
Time ripe and convenient to die. 84.  
Tyrant 23. 107.  
Tyranny. 105.   

V  
VAlerius corvinus 76.  
Vaunt of lewd life, most beastly and detestable. 98.  
Venerous copulation. 69.  
Venus' one of the seven. planets. 126. her course & revolution, ibid. & 127.  
Virtue amiable and draweth men to love her. 13. well liked and loved, even in our enemies, and them whom we never saw, 14. 15. dysdaynful of no man. 23. not to be despised, 27. despised, 16. 41. getteth and keepeth Freendeship, 42. 44. cannot be where pleasure ruleth 65. to be desired even for herself. 67. more worth than all worldly treasure. 97. 99 agreeable to reason and constancy. 102.  
virtues equal. 102. praise worthy. 112. causes why most chiefly to be esteemed. 120.  
Virtuous man, cannot be miserable. 100 liveth after he is dead. 124.  
Unlawful requests of Friends. 16. 17. 18.  
Unlike manners, unfit for friendship. 32.  
Upbraiding of pleasures and benefits. 31.  
Vrinalles. 112.  
Usury. 117. 119.  
Vice to be punished without respect of persons, 66.  
Vices equal. 192.  
Vine. 71. 72.   

W  
WAightye matters, how achieved. 53.  
Wardhouse of this life. 83. 125.  
wariness. 33.  
waywardness. 49. 79.  
Wealth and worldly riches without a Friend, unpleasant. 23. 37. 115. 119. altereth manners. 24. are not rightly to be termed any of ours. 106.  
Weapons fit for old-age. 49. 54.  
Whoredom 65. 103.  
Whole World as one cytty. 100  
Wicked livers afraid to die. 88  
Wisdom passeth strength. 60.  
Wiseman. 110.  
Wise and sententious counsel. 36.  
Wit wavering. 29.   

X  
XEnophon. 68 75. 86.   

Y  
Year, called the turning year, what it is. 130.  
Young head, rash and unskilful. 55.  
Young men subject as much or more to sickness then Old men. 62. 80. their exercises. 75. die with greater pain than Oldmen. 82.  
Youth inordinately led, maketh a feeble and impotent old-age. 59 delighteth in vain Pleasures. 69.  
Youthful old-age, most commendabl●▪ 〈…〉.   

Z  
ZEno. 56.   
FINIS.   

Imprinted at London in Fleetstrete by Thomas Marsh. 1577.  
Cum Privilegio.