Axiochus.  
A most excellent Dialogue, written in Greek by Plato the Philosopher: concerning the shortness and uncertainty of this life, with the contrary ends of the good and wicked.  
Translated out of Greek by Edw. Spenser.  
Hereto is annexed a sweet speech or Oration, spoken at the Triumph at Whitehall before her Majesty, by the Page to the right noble Earl of Oxenford.  
CB.  SEMPER EADEM  printer's or publisher's device 
AT LONDON, Printed for Cuthbert Burbie, and are to be sold at the middle shop in the Poultry, under S. Mildred's Church. Anno. 1592.   

To the Right Worshipful Master Benedic Barnam, Esquire, Alderman and Sheriff of this honourable City of London: health and happiness.  
Worshipful Sir, I am bold (by way of dedication) to give ye this excellent Dialogue of Plato the Philosopher, for two reasons. The first, that so singular a work, done by a Heathen man, might as well flourish in our vulgar speech, as of long time it hath done both in Greek and Latin.  
The second, that your countenance might shadow it from reproachful slanders, which common censures too lightly bolt out against the best endeavours. But concerning the special matter, to wit, my presumption, without first acquainting ye herewith: thus I protect myself. My familiarity with ye in your younger years, when sometimes we were Scholars together, and my present joy, to see ye so happy a succeeder both in your Father's virtues, place, and Office: emboldened me to show a remembrance of the one, yet reverently, and gladness of the other as well becometh me.  
If in this small gift, ye make acceptance both of the one and other, ye shall declare no less than each one well discerns in ye, and joy him that every way is at your command.   

To the Reader.  
THis Dialogue of Axiochus, gentle Reader, was translated out of Greek, by that worthy Scholar and Poet, Master Edward Spenser, whose studies have & do carry no mean commendation, because their deserts are of so great esteem.  
If herein thou find not the delightful pleasures his verses yieldeth, yet shalt thou receive matter of as high contentment: to wit, comfort in the very latest extremity. For his sake then be kind in acceptance hereof, and do him the right he very well deserveth.   

Axiochus of Plato, or a Dialogue of Death, being both short and very Elegant.  Socrates. Clinias. Axiochus. 
AS I went one day to my common school Lynosargus, and being in the way by Elizeus, I might hear the voice of one calling aloud to me, Socrates. And turning me about to see whence it came, I saw Clinias Axiochus his son, together with Damon the physician & Charmides, the son of Glauco running hastily toward Callirrhoe, whereof the one was a Master and professor of the Art of Music, & the other by means of great familiarity & acquaintance, did both love him, and also was of him beloved; whereupon I thought good, leaving my ready way, to go meet them, that I might the sooner understand his meaning. Then Clinias bursting out in tears, O Socrates (quoth he) now is the time when thou mayst show forth thy long fostered and famous wisdom, for my father is even now taken with a grievous disease, and drawing near (as it seemeth) to his end, is therewithal grievously troubled, and greatly disquieted. Howbeit, heretofore he was so far from the fear of death, as that he was wont pleasantly to scoff and scorn at those which used to portrait the Image of death, painting him with a dreadful countenance and a grisly face. Wherhfore I beseech thee O Socrates, to go and comfort my father as you were wont to do: for so the rather being strengthened with your good counsel, he shall be able without any grudging or fainting to pass through the way of all flesh, and I with the rest of his friends and kinsmen will maintain the yearly memory of that his good end.  Socrates. 
O Clinias I will not deny thy so reasonable a request, specially concerning such a matter, as to deny it were great unkindness and discourtesy: to grant it, pertaineth both to godliness and charity. Let us therefore speed us to him: for if thy father be in so sore taking, there needeth speediness and great haste.  Clinias. 
O Socrates, I am sure that my father, assoon as he but beholdeth you, will be much better at ease: for his fit and pangs of his sickness use oftentimes to surcease and be assuaged.  Socrates. 
But that we might the sooner come to him, we took the way, which lieth beside the town wall by the Gardens) for his dwelling was hard by the gates which lieth toward the Amazons pillar: whither we coming, found Axiochus (which by this time was come to himself again) being indeed somewhat strong in his body, but very weak and feeble in his mind, and resting altogether comfortless: often tossing him, and tumbling up and down in his bed, fetching deep and doleful sighs, with abundant streams of trickling tears, and wailful wring of his hands: whom beholding, O Axiochus quoth I, what meaneth this? where be now those haughty and courageous words, wherewith thou wast wont to scorn and despise death? where be those thy daily and continual praises of virtue and goodness vanished? where also is now that thy unspeakable stoutness, wherewith thou wast wont to confirm thyself and strengthen others: for like as a cowardly champion, which at the first coming forth as to the skirmish, with stately steps and a vaunting visage, doth soon after cast away his Target, and taketh him to flight: even so seemest thou now, when there is need most of all to flinch. Hast thou no more regard of thy divine and excellent nature, that sometime wast a man of so good life and calling, so obedient to reasons rule? and if there were nothing else, yet should it be sufficient to move thee, that thou art an Athenian borne: and lastly should move thee that common saying, which is worn in all men's mouths; That this our life is a Pilgrimage, which when we have ended with perfect measure and steadfast travel: it behoveth us with like constancy of mind, and joyfulness of spirit, and as it were singing a merry Paean, to enter into the purposed place of rest. But thus to languish in despair and tender hearted outcries, behaving thyself like a froward Babe, in thee is neither regard of thy wisdom, nor respect of thy age.  Axiochus. 
True indeed O Socrates, and that which thou sayest, me seemeth right: But it cometh to pass I know not how, that when I draw near unto present danger, than those great and stouthearted words which I was wont to cast at death, do closely flit away and down are trodden underfoot. And then that Torment or fear, the messenger of dreaded dangers, doth sundry ways wound and gall my grieved mind, whispering continually in mine ear that if I be once deprived of this worldly light, and bereft of goods: I shall like a rotten block lie in the darksome depth, neither seen nor heard of any, being resolved into dust and worms.  Socrates. 
O Axiochus thy talk is very foolish, for reasoning thus without reason, and seeking to make some sense of senseless words, thou both dost and sayest clean contrary to thyself, not marking, how at one time thou dost both complain for the lack of sense which thou shalt have: and also art greatly vexed for the rotting of thy carrion Carcase, and despoiling of thy former delights: as if by this death thou shouldest not pass into another life, or shouldest be so despoiled of all sense and feeling, as thou wert before thou wast first brought into this world. For even as in those years when Draco and calisthenes governed the common wealth of Athens, thou then wast vexed with no evil, for in the beginning thou wast no such as to whom evil might chance: so likewise when thou hast ended this state of mortality thou shalt no more be afflicted, for thou shalt not be in such case as that any evil can touch thee. Wherhfore shake off and castaway all these trifles and worldly baggage, thus weighing in thy mind, that when the frame of this earthly building is dissolved, and the soul being singled, is restored to his natural place: this body which is then left an earthly mass and an unreasonable substance, is then no more a man. For we are a soul, that is to say, an immortal creature, being shut up and enclosed in an earthly dungeon. Wherewithal nature hath clothed us, and charged us with many miseries, so that even those things which seem pleasant to us and joyful, are indeed but vain and shadowed, being mingled and wrapped in many thousand sorrows, and those also which use to breed us sorrow and heaviness, are both sudden, and therefore more hardly avoided, and also perdurable, and therefore the more painful and wearisome. Such be diseases and inflammation of the senses: Such be inward griefs and sicknesses, through which it cannot choose but that the soul must be also diseased, since that being scattered and spread through the powers and passages of the body, it coveteth the use of that open and kind heaven out of which it was derived, and thirsteth for the wont company & surpassing delights of that aerernall fellowship; whereby it is evident, that the passage from life, is a change from much evil to great good.  Axiochus. 
Since therefore O Socrates thou deemest this life so tedious and troublesome, why dost thou still abide in the same? being as thou art a man of so great wisdom and experience, whose knowledge reacheth far above our common sense, and beyond the usual reason of most men.  Socrates. 
Thou Axiochus dost not report rightly of me: for thou judgest as the common people of Athens, that because you see I am given to seek and search out many things, therefore I know somewhat. But to say the truth, I would heartily wish, and would the same account in great part of happiness, if I knew but these common and customable matters: so far am I from the knowledge of those high and excellent things. For these things which I now declare, are the sayings of Prodicus the wise man: some of them being bought for a penny: some for two groats, and other some for four: For that same notable man used to teach none without wages, having always in his mouth that saying of Epicharmus, One hand rubbeth another: give somewhat, and somewhat take. And it is not long sithence, that he making a discourse of philosophy in the house of Callias the son of Hipponicus, such and so many things he spoke against the state of life: that I also account life in the number of those things which be of less weight. And ever since that time O Axiochus, my soul gaspeth after death, daily longing to die.  Axiochus. 
What then was said of Prodicus?  Socrates. 
Marry I will tell you, as they come to my mind. For what parcel (quoth he) of our life is not full of wretchedness? doth not the baby even taken from the mother's womb, power out plenty of tears, beginning the first step of life with grief? neither afterward hath it once any breathing or resting time from sorrow, being either distressed with poverty, or pinched with cold, or scorched with heat, or pained with stripes: and whatsoever it suffereth, utter once it cannot, but only with crying doth show his mind, having no voice but that alone to bewray his grief: and having through many woes waded to seven years of age, he is yet afflicted with greater griefs, being subject to the tyranny of the Schoolmaster and Tutor. And as his years increased, so is the number of his guides and governors increased, being afterwards in the hands of Censors, Philosophers and Captains. Soon after being waxen a stripling he is hemmed in with greater fear, namely of Lyceum, of the Academy, of the School of games, of Rulers, of Rods: and to shut up all in one word, of infinite miseries. And all the time of his youth is spent under overseers which are set over him by the Areopagits from which labours young men being once freed, are yet overlayde with greater cares and more weighty thoughts, touching the ordering of his state and trade of life: which also if they be compared with those that follow, all these former troubles may seem but childish and indeed babish trifles. For hereupon doth a troup of evils accrue, as be the exploits of warfare, the bitterness of wounds, the continual labour, skirmishes: and then closely creepeth on old Age, in which are heaped all the harms that pertain to mankind, whether of weakness as natural, or of pain as being external. And but if one betimes restore his life as a due debt to death: Nature ever waiting as a greedy usurer, taketh pains aforehand, snatching and pulling from this man his sight, from that his hearing, from some both two senses. And if any fortune longer than commonly is seen in this life to linger, Nature weakening her powers, doth lose, lame, and bow down all parts of his body, but they whose bodies in old age long flourisheth in mind, as the saying is, become twice children. And therefore the gods, knowing what is most expedient for men, those whom they most dearly love, do soon take out of this vale of wretchedness. And for this cause Agamedes and Trophonius, when they had built a Temple to Pythius Apollo, desiring of the god therefore to grant them the best reward that might be given, soon after when they laid them down to rest, never rose again.  
Likewise Cleobis & Biton, the sons of the Argive Nun, when their mother had made her prayer to juno, that to her sons for their great godliness might be given some singular gift (for that they when her yoke of Oxen were not readily to be found at the time of sacrifice, themselves being yoked in the chariot, drew their mother to the Temple) upon this their mother's request, the two sons the next morning were found dead. It were too long in this place to rehearse the testimonies of Poets which in their divine poesies do divinely bewail and lament the miseries of man's life, I will now only in place of many, recite the witness of one, being most worthy of memory, which thus saith, 
How wretched a thread of life have the gods spun,  
To mortal men that in this race of life do run▪   
And again: 
Of all that in the earth are ordained by nature,  
Than man, is not to be found  
a more wretched creature.   
But of Amphiaraus what saith the Poet?  
Him loved highest jupiter and Apollo dear,  
yet could he not reach to his eldest year.  
What thinkest thou of him  
that taught the child to cry:  
When first the Sun bright day,  
he seethe with tender eye.  
But I will let them pass, least contrary to promise, I seem to discourse at large, and that in the alleging of foreign witnesses. What trade of life I pray you is there, or what occupation, of which you shall not find many that complain and greatly mislike of their present affairs. Let us overrun the companies of Artificers & craftsmen, which continually labour from night to night, and yet hardly able to find them necessaries to live, by bewailing their bare estate, & filling their nightwatching with sorrow and tears. Let us else survey the life of Mariners and Seafaring men, which make a hole through so many dangers, & which as Bias said, are neither in the number of the living nor yet of the dead, for man being borne to abide upon the earth, doth as it were a creature of a double kind, thrust himself into the main sea, and wholly put his life into the hands of fortune. But the life of husbandmen will some say is pleasant, and so in deed it is: but have they not a continual rankling gall, ever breeding new cause of grief and disquiet, sometime by reason of drought, sometime because of rain, otherwhile for scorching, oft through blasting, which parcheth the untimely ear oftentimes, because of importunate heat or unmeasurable cold, miserably weeping and complaining. But above all, that honourable state of government and principality (for I let pass many other things & wrap them up in silence) through how many dangers is it tossed and turmoiled, for if at any time it have any cause of joy, it is like unto a blown blister or a swelling sore, soon up, and sooner down: oftentime suffering a foul repulse, which seemeth a thousand times worse than death itself. For who at any time can be blessed, that hangeth upon the wavering will of the witless many? And albeit the Magistrate deserve favour and praise, yet is he but a mocking stock and scoff of the commonalty, being soon after, outcast, hissed at, condemned, and delivered to a miserable death. For where I pray thee O Axiochus, (thee I ask that art in office in the commonwealth) died that mighty Miltiades? where that victorious Themistocles? where that valiant Ephialtes? where finally these noble kings and glorious Emperors, which not long a go flourished in the common wealth. As for myself, I could never be brought to bear office in the City: for I never accounted it as a worthy and laudable thing to be in authority together with the madding multitude.  
But Theramenes and Calixenus of late memory appointing under them certain Magistrates, condemned certain guiltless men, not hearing their causes to undeserved death. Only withstood them you, and Triptolemus, of thirty thousand men which were gathered in the assembly.  Axiochus. 
It is as thou sayest Socrates, and since that time I have refrained myself from the stage: neither hath any thing ever to me seemed of greater weight, than the governing of the commonwealth, and that is well known to them which are in the same office. For thou speakest these things, as having out of some high fit only overlooked the troubles and tempests of the commonwealth, but we know the same more assuredly, having made proof therefore in ourselves, for the common people indeed our friends Socrates is unthankful, disdainful, cruel, envious, and unlearned, as that is gathered together of the scum and dregs of the rascal rout, and a sort of idle losels: whom he that flattereth and feedeth is much worse himself than they.  Socrates. 
Since therefore O Axiochus, thou dost so greatly disallow that opinion, which of all other, is counted most honest and liberal; what shall we judge of the other trades of life? shall we not think that they are likewise to be shunned: I remember that I once heard Prodicus say; that death pertaineth neither to the living nor to the dead.  Axiochus. 
How mean you that, Socrates?  Socrates. 
Marry thus; that death toucheth not them that are, and as for those that are departed out of this life, are now no more, and therefore death now toucheth them not: for thou art not yet dead, neither if thou decease, shall it concern thee, for thou shalt then have no more. Therefore, most vain is that sorrow which Axiochus maketh, for the thing which neither is present, nor shall ever touch Axiochus himself. And even as foolish is it, as if one should complain and be afraid of Scylla, or the Centaurs, which were monsters, of Poet's brood, which neither now belong to thee, nor to thy lives end shall appertain; for fear is conceived of such things as be: but of such things as be not, what fear can there be?  Axiochus. 
Truly Socrates, you have fetched these things, out of the rich and most abundant Storehouse of your wonderful wisdom: And thereof riseth that your mildness and lightness of speech, which you use to allure the minds of young men to virtue. But the loss of these worldly commodities, doth not a little vex and disquiet my mind; albeit these reasons, which now to my great good liking you have alleged, seem to me much more allowable, than those which late you used; for my mind is not carried away with error through the enticement of your words, but perceiveth them well, neither do those things greatly move my mind, which only have a colour and shadowed show of truth, being set out with flaunting pride, and glory of words, but yet truth have they none.  Socrates. 
Thou art far wide Axiochus, and reasonest unskilfully, joining the feeling of evil, with the want of good things, forgetting thyself that then thou shalt be in the number of the senseless dead. For him indeed which is bereft of all good things, doth the contrary force of evil things greatly vex. But he which hath no being, can take nor feel nothing, in place of those things whereof he is despoiled. Then by what reason can any grief be conceived of that thing, which breedeth no sense nor perseverance of any thing which hurteth. For if in the beginning O Axiochus, thou didst not, though indeed in vain, join sense and feeling to death, most unwisely, thou shouldest never had cause to fear death. But now thou dost confound thyself, and speakest contrary to thyself, oft fearing that thou shalt be deprived of soul and sense together, and oft thinking, that with thy sense thou shalt feel that thing, whereof there is no sense nor feeling. And to this purpose do all those excellent and notable reasons of the soul's immortality tend.  
For it is not the weak nature of mortal man, to raise himself to the fulfilling of such high and haughty matters, as to despise the ramping rage of wild beasts, to jeopard himself in the wasteful sea, to build Cities, and them with laws and policy to establish: to look up into heaven, and mark the course of the Stars; and the ways of the Sun and Moon, with their rise and setting, to consider their eclipses, their spaces, their making of the nights and days alike, their double conversions, to behold the order of the winds, the seven watery stars, of winter, of summer, of storms, with the violent rage of whirlwinds, and as it were these labours of the world, to deliver to posterity, unless in our minds there were a certain divine spirit and understanding, which could comprehend and reach unto the supernatural knowledge of so great matters.  
Wherhfore now O Axiochus, thou art not in the way to death, but to immortality, neither shalt thou (as thou didst seem right now to fear) be bereft of all good, but shall hereby enjoy true and perfect good: Neither shalt thou perceive such dirty pleasures as are these, being mingled with the puddle of this sinful body, but most pure and perfect delight being devoid of all contagious trouble. For being loosed and delivered out of the darksome dungeons of this body, thou shalt pass to that place where is no lack nor complaint, but all things full of rest, and devoid of evil. Moreover there is calm and quiet living without all knowledge of unrest, peaceable and still occupied in beholding the course & frame of Nature, and studying Philosophy, not to please the idle ignorant and common sort, but with upright and undeceivable truth.  Axiochus. 
O Socrates with this thy gladsome speech thou hast now brought me into a clean contrary mind, for so far am I now from dread of death, that I am even set on fire and burn with desire thereof. And that I may stay myself in the steps of them which are counted workmasters of speech, I will say thus much more excellently, Now I begin to behold those high matters, and do overlook that aeternal and heavenly course of things, having now raised up myself out of my weakness, and being as it were renewed and refreshed of my former malady.  Socrates. 
If you demand of me another reason, and sign of the soul's immortality, I will tell you what the wise man Gobrias showed me: He said that at what time Xerxes conveyed his huge Army into Greece, his Grandfather which was of the same name, was sent into Delos to defend that Island in which were two Gods borne. In the same Island that his Grandfather learned out of certain brazen Tables which Opis and Hecuergus had brought out of the Northern Countries, That the soul aftertime it is dissolved from the body passeth into a certain darksome place, a Coast that lieth under the earth wherein is Pluto's Palace no less than jupiters' kingdom: For the earth being equally balanced in the midst of the world, and the compass thereof being round as a ball, that the one half Sphere thereof is allotted to the higher Gods, and the other half to the infernal powers; betwixt whom there is such kindred and alliance, that some be brothers, and other some brother's children. But the entry of the way which leadeth to Pluto's kingdom is fenced with iron gates, and fastened with brazen bolts: which when a man hath opened, he is entertained of the River Acheron; next which is Cocytus: which floods being overpassed, he must come before Minos and Rhadamanthus, the merciless judges: which place is called the plain of Truth where the judges sit examining every one that cometh thither how he hath lived, and with what trade or manner of life he hath inhabited his mortal body, with whom there is no place for lies; nor refuge for excuses. Then they which in their life time were inspired and led with a good Angel, are received into the household of the blessed, where all seasons flow with abundance of all fruits, where from the silver springs do calmly run the Crystal streams, where the flourishing meadows are clothed with changeable Mantles of glorious colours, where are famous Schools of renowned Philosophers, goodly companies of divine Poets, trim sorts of Dancers, heavenly Music, great banquets furnished with costly cates, Tables abounding with all bounty, delights without all care, and pleasures without all pain: For the Inhabitants thereof are neither touched with force of cold, nor pained with excess of heat, but the moderate Air breatheth on them mildly and calmly, being, lightened with the gentle Sunnebeameses.  
In this place, and in the Elysian fields, they which have taken holy orders are highly advanced and reverenced, daily ministering the unsearchable rites of Religion. Wherhfore then shouldest thou doubt but to be made partaker of the same honour, being one of the seed of that heavenly race: It is an old saying and rightly reported, that Hercules and Bacchus going down to hell, they were instituted in holy orders, and that they were emboldened to go thither of the Goddess Eleusina. But they which being wrapped in wickedness have led an ungodly life, are snatched up by the Furies, and by them carried through the lowest hell into deep darkness and utter confusion, where the place and abode of the wicked is, and where the three score daughters of Danaus dwell, whose punishment is continually to fill a sort of bottomless vessels, where also is to be seen the unquenchable thirst of Tantalus, the gnawn Entrails of Titius, and the endless stone of Sisip●us, whose end beginneth a new labour. There be they rend of wild beasts, continually scorched with burning Lamps, pained with all kind of torments, and afflicted with endless penance. These things I remember that I have heard Gobrias tell; but you Axiochus may judge of them as you list. Only this I know and assuredly hold fast, that every man's mind is immortal and passing out of this life feeleth no grief nor sorrow. Wherhfore O Axiochus whether thou be carried into those highest Palaces or lower Vawtss, needs must it be that thou shalt be blessed because thou hast lived well and godly.  Axiochus. 
Minding to have said something unto thee (O Socrates) I am impeached with bashful shame: For so far am I now from the horror and dread of death, that I continually covet the time thereof: So hath thy heavenly and comfortable speeches pierced and relieved my faint heart. And now loath I this life, and scorn the delights thereof, as that shall from henceforth pass into a better abode. And now by myself alone will I recount these thy notable sayings, but I pray thee (O Socrates) after noon resort to me again.  Socrates. 
I will do as you say, and now will I return to walk in my school Lynosargus from whence I was hither called.  
FINIS.   

❧ A speech spoken at the Triumph before the Queen's most excellent Majesty, by the Page to the right noble Champion, the Earl of Oxenford.  
By the Tilt stood a stately Tent of Orange tawny Taffeta, curiously embroidered with Silver, & pendents on the Pinnacles very sightly to behold. From forth this Tent came the noble Earl of Oxenford in rich gilt Armour, and sat down under a great high Bay-tree, the whole stock, branches and leaves whereof, were all gilded over, that nothing but Gold could be discerned. By the Tree stood twelve tilting staves, all which likewise were gilded clean over. After a solemn sound of most sweet Music, he mounted on his Courser, very richly caparasond, when his page ascending the stairs where her Highness stood in the window, delivered to her by speech this Oration following.  
THIS Knight (most fair and fortunate Princess) living of a long time in a Grove, where every graft being green, he thought every root to be precious, found at the last as great diversity of troubles as of Trees: the Oak to be so stubborn that nothing could cause it to bend; the Reed so shaking, that every blast made it to bow; the juniper sweet, but too low for secure; the Cypress fair, but without fruit; the Walnut tree to be as unwholesome to lie under, as the bud of the Figtree unpleasant to taste; the Tree that bore the best fruit, to be fullest of Caterpillars, and all to be infected with worms; the Ash for Ravens to breed; the Elm to build; the Elder to be full of pith & no perfection, and all Trees that were not fertile, to be fit for fuel, and they that were fruitful, but for the time to please the fancy. Which trying, he forsook the wood, and lived a while in the plain Champion: where, how he was tormented, it were too long to tell, but let this suffice, that he was troubled, when every Moat fell in his eye in the day, and every Ant disquieted him in the night: where, if the wind blew, he had nothing to shield him but head and shoulders, if the Sun blazed, he could find the shadow of nothing but himself, when seeing himself so destitute of help, he became desperate of hope.  
Thus wandering a weary way, he espied at the last a Tree so beautiful, that his eyes were dazzled with the brightness, which as he was going unto, he met by good fortune a Pilgrim or Hermit, he knew not well, who being appareled as though he were to travail into all Countries, but so aged as though he were to live continually in a Cave. Of this old Sire he demanded what Tree it was, who taking this Knight by the hand, began in these words both to utter the name and nature of the Tree.  
This Tree fair Knight is called the Tree of the Sun, whose nature is always to stand alone, not suffering a companion, being itself without comparison: of which kind, there are no more in the earth than Suns in the Element. The world can hold but one Phoenix, one Alexander, one Sun-Tree, in top contrary to all Trees: it is strongest, & so stately to behold, that the more other shrubs shrink for duty, the higher it exalteth itself in Majesty.  
For as the clear beams of the Sun, cause all the stars to lose their light, so the brightness of this golden Tree, eclipseth the commendation of all other Plants. The leaves of pure Gold, the bark no worse, the buds pearls, the body Chrisocolla, the sap Nectar, the root so noble as it springeth from two Turkeys, both so perfect, as neither can stain the other, each contending once for superiority, and now both constrained to be equals. Vesta's bird sitteth in the midst, whereat Cupid is ever drawing, but dares not shoot, being amazed at that princely and perfect Majesty.  
The shadows hath as strange properties as contrarieties, cooling those that be hot with a temperate calm, and heating those that be cold with a moderate warmth, not unlike that Sun whereof it taketh the name, which melteth Wax, and hardeneth Clay, or pure fire, which causeth the gold to shine, and the straw to smother, or sweet perfumes, which feedeth the Bee, and killeth the beetle.  
No poison cometh near it, nor any vermin that hath a sting. Who so goeth about to lop it, lanceth himself, and the Sun will not shine on that creature that casteth a false eye on that Tree, no wind can so much as wag a leaf, it springeth in spite of Autumnus, and continueth all the year as it were Ver.  
If Sir Knight you demand what fruit it beareth, I answer, such, as the elder it is, the younger it seemeth, always ripe, yet ever green. Virtue Sir Knight, more nourishing to honest thoughts, than the beauty delightful to amorous eyes; Where the Graces are as thick in virtue, as the Grapes are on the Vine.  
This fruit fatteth, but never feeds, wherewith this Tree is so loaden, as you cannot touch that place which virtue hath not tempered. If you inquire whether any grafts may be gotten, it were as much as to crave slips of the Sun, or a Mould to cast a new Moon. To conclude, such a Tree it is, as he that hath longest known it, can sooner marvel at it, then describe it, for the further he wadeth in the praise, the shorter he cometh of the perfection.  
This old man having ended, seeming to want words to express such worthiness, he went to his home, and the Knight to his Sun Tree, where kissing the ground with humility, the princely tree seemed with 〈…〉 to bid him welcome. But the more 〈…〉 ●●zed on the beauty, the less able he w●● 〈◊〉 ●●dure the brightness, like unto those 〈…〉 ●●king with a steadfast eye to behold th● 〈…〉 bring a dark dazzling over their sight.  
At the last, resting under the shadow, he felt such content, as nothing could be more comfortable. The days he spent in virtuous delights, the night slipped away in golden Dreams, he was never annoyed with venomous enemies, nor disquieted with idle cogitations.  
In so much, that finding all felicity in that shade, and all security in that Sun: he made a solemn vow, to incorporate his heart into that Tree, and engraft his thoughts upon those virtues. Swearing, that as there is but one Sun to shine over it, one root to give life unto it, one top to maintain Majesty: so there should be but one Knight, either to live or die for the defence thereof.  
Whereupon, he swore himself only to be the Knight of the Tree of the Sun, whose life should end before his loyalty.  
Thus cloyed with content, he fell into a sweet slumber, whose smile countenance showed him void of all care. But his eyes were scarce close, d when he seemed to see dy●●● 〈◊〉 ●●●ermining the Tree behind him, that 〈…〉 suspecting the Knight to give the 〈…〉, might have punished him in her 〈…〉 failing of their pretence, and seeing 〈…〉 ●●we they struck to light upon their own brains, they threatened him by violence, whom they could not match in virtue.  
But he clasping the Tree, as the only Anchor of his trust, they could not so much as move him from his cause, whom they determined to martyr without colour. Whereupon, they made a challenge to win the Tree by right, and to make it good by Arms. At which saying, the Knight being glad to have his truth tried with his valour, for joy awaked.  
And now (most virtuous and excellent Princess) seeing such tumults towards for his Tree, such an Honourable presence to judge, such worthy Knights to just: I cannot tell whether his perplexity or his pleasure be the greater. But this he will avouch at all assays, himself to be the most loyal Knight of the Sun-tree, which who so gainesayeth, he is here priest, either to make him recant it before he run, or repent it after. Offering rather to die upon the points of a thousand Lances, then to yield a jot in constant loyalty.  
FINIS. The speech being ended, with great honour he ran, and valiantly broke all the twelve staves. And after the finishing of the sports: both the rich Bay-tree, and the beautiful Tent, were by the standers by, torn and rend in more pieces than can be numbered.