TO THE READER.

<1A FOLIE IT MAIE BE>1 thought in me to haue spent tyme in
englisshyng of this boke, entitled <2the praise of Folie,>2 wheras the
name it selfe semeth to set foorth no wisedome, or matter of
grauitee: vnlesse perhappes <1Erasmus>1, the autour therof, de-
lited to mocke men, in callyng it one thyng, and meanyng an
other. To this I answeare, that Folie in all poinctes is not (as
I take it) so strange vnto vs, but that hir name maie well be
abidden, aslong as will we or nill we, she will be sure to beare
a stroke in most of our dooynges: how so euer a certaine secte
of faulte finders condemne all thinges, that fully square not with
theyr owne rules, yea twyse blinde in this, that amonges the
cornmen errours and infyrmitees of mortall men, they will beare
nothyng with their bretherne, as who saieth, they were demi-
goddes, and not more than one or two waies lynked in Folies
bandes.
   I haue therfore bestowed an englisshe liuerey vpon this latine
boke, as well as I coulde: not so muche to please all men, as
rather to shew how euin this Foly toucheth all men. Wherin
I woulde not be noted as a carper of any man particulerly (for
what more vnsittyng than in bokes or plaies to touche men by
name?) nor that herein I seke to haue any kinde of men noted
for theyr trade of lyfe, otherwyse than the abuse thereof de-
serueth, but [<sI>sA2<sv>s] onely my meanyng is suche, as <1Erasmus>1
in this booke shall expresse for vs bothe. He of his modestee
is content to set no great face vpon it, nor woulde be noted to
haue spent great labour in makyng therof: sauyng as in pastime
to haue essaied, whether ought might be spoken in praise of
Folie, wheras wysedome the vertue can praise it selfe.
  And therfore he imagineth, that Folie shoulde be a God-
desse, who before all kyndes of men assembled as to a sermon,

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shoulde declare how many benefltes they receiue at hir handes:
and how without hir accesse, nothyng in this life is delectable,
commodious, or tollerable vnto vs, no not our owne life. This
braue bost myght well come from Folie: and seyng that wyser
men are wont to take in woorth what is saied by a foole, therfore
is <1Erasmus>1 also the bolder to put that tale in Folies mouth,
whiche vnder an other person he woulde haue made more
curtesie to haue spoken. So what excuse he maketh, the same
I requyre maie serue for me: that thynges spoken foolisshely,
by Folie, maie be euin so taken, and not wrested to any bitter
sence or ernest applicacion. For surely if the crabbedst men that
be, are wont to take a fooles woordes as in sporte, for feare lest
others myght recken they would not wynche without a galled
backe: Than how muche more is a domme booke written gene-
rally to be borne withall? namely where the title pretendeth no
grauitee, but rather a toye to stirre laughter, without offence in
the boke, if the reader bringe none offence with hym. For than
truely he maie chaunce to see his owne image more liuely de-
the deformitee of his coun-[<sI>sA<i3>i]trefaicte, let hym muche more
mislyke to be suche one in deede.
  And seeyng the vices of our daies are suche as can not enough
be spoken against, what knowe we, if <1Erasmus>1 in this booke 
thought good betweene game and ernest to rebuke the same?
And chiefely to persuade (if it myght be) a certaine contenta-
cion in euerie man, to holde hym agreed with suche lotte and
state of liuyng, as ariseth to hym. For whiche purpose was I
also soonest moued to englisshe it, to the end that meane men
of baser wittes and condicion, myght haue a maner coumfort
and satisfaction in theim selfes. In as muche as the hiegh god,
who made vs all of one earth, hath natheles chosen some to rule,
and more to serue. Wherat so muche lacketh that the inferiours
shoulde repine, as rather, set in the meaner degree, they should
thanke god the more: without aspyryng to thinges aboue theyr

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reache, whiche should draw more trouble and perilles, than if
they absteigned therfro, and gaue place to others, who had
greater giftes of God, and were called by auctoritee of theyr
prince or countrey to welde the same. For surely, if a man of the
poorer sorte, whose eies is dased in beholdyng the fayre glosse
of wealth and felicitee, whiche the state of a great lorde or
counsailour in a commen wealth dooeth outwardly represent,
did inwardly marke the trauailes, cares, and anxietees, whiche
suche one is driuen to susteigne (doyng as he ought to dooe) in
seruyng his maister and countrey, wherby he is nothyng lesse
than his owne man: now I beleue he would not muche enuie his
state, nor chose to chaunge condicions of life with hym. But
this were euin the chiefest poincte of wysedome, [<sI>sA3<sv>s] though
fooles (as Folie calleth theim) that is to saie vulgare folke, are
those that, vnwittyng of their treasure, dooe in deede enioie this
sweete quietnesse, and greatest good tourne.
   And waiyng this foolishe boke, after this sence, I wene a
profite also maie arise therethrough to the readers, besides the
delectacion, beyng so pithilie pleasaunt as it is. For as <1Erasmus>1
in all his woorkes sauoureth of a liuelie quicknesse, and spareth
not sometyme in graue mattiers to sprincle his style, where he
maie snache oportunitee with meerie conceited sentences: so in
this booke, treatyng of suche a <1Theme,>1 and vnder suche a per-
son, he openeth all his bowget: So farfoorth as by the iudgement
of many learned men, he neuer shewed more arte, nor witte, in
any the grauest boke he wrote, than in this his praise of Folie.
Whiche the reader hauyng any considerance, shall soone espie,
how in euery mattier, yea almost euery clause, is hidden besides
the myrth, some deaper sence and purpose.
   In deede I againe saie not, but he maketh Folie to speake
at randon, without sparyng of any estate of men: but yet in-
different eares will heare their faultes paciently, aslong as they
maie chose, whether they will take the faulte vppon theim or
not: or be aknowne to be those, whom Folie noteth. But euin
this frankenesse of Folies taunting I haue presumed in some

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poinctes to ytche to the beste: namely in two or thre places,
whiche the learned reader comparyng with the latine boke, maie
easely perceiue, how either I haue slipped ouer a line or two, or
eased the sowre sence of the latine with some manerlier englishe
worde. Wherin I chose rather to be counted a skante true
interpre-[<sI>sA4]tour, than otherwise to touche thynges, whiche
were better vnsaied, aslong as it hurted not the grace of the boke
though they were omitted. Likewise in all my translacion I haue
not peined my selfe to render worde for woorde, nor prouerbe
for prouerbe, wherof many be greke, such as haue no grace in
our tounge: but rather markyng the sence, I applied it to the
phrase of our englishe. And where the prouerbes woulde take no
englishe, I aduentured to put englisshe prouerbes of like waight
in their places, Whiche maie be thought by some cunnyng
translatours a deadly sinne. But I sticke not for all that, in this
foolishe booke to vse mine owne foolishe caste. And if it be mis-
liked, I passe not greatly though I lose the praise of my Folie.

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                           [A <iI>i ]

                      MORI@ENCOMIVM.

                      Folie speaketh.

Howe so euer men commonly talke of me (as pardie I am not
ignoraunt what lewde reportes go on <1FOLIE,>1 yea euen amonges
those that are veriest fooles of all) yet that I am she, I onely
(I saie) who through myne influence do gladde both the Goddes
and men, by this it maie appeare sufficiently: that as soone as
I came forth to saie my mynd afore this your so notable assem-
blie, by and by all your lokes began to clere vp: vnbendyng the
frounyng of your browes, and laughyng vpon me with so merie
a countinaunce, as by my trouth me semeth euin, that all ye
(whom I see here present) doe fare as if ye were well whitled,
and thoroughly moysted with the <1Nectar>1 wine of the Homeri-
call Goddes, not without a porcion of the iuyce of that mer-
uaillous herbe <1Nepeuthes>1, whiche hath force to put sadnesse
and melancholie from the herte: Where as before ye satte all
heauie, and glommyng, as if ye had come lately from <1Tro->1
<1phonius>1 caue, or sainct patrikes purgatorie. But lyke as whan
<1Phebus>1 displaieth his golden bright raies vppon the earth, or
whan after a sharpe stormie wynter, the new primetyde flou-
rissheth with his caulme sweete Westerne wyndes, than (loe) a
new lykenesse, a newe hewe, and a newe youthe (as it were) re-
tourneth vnto all thynges: Euen so, as soone [A<iI>i<sv>s] as I appeared,
ye all beganne to loke vp lustily. So, what thyng theis cunnyng
Rhetoriciens for all theyr longe, and forepenned oracions can
hardly bringe about (I meane to driue care, and pensiuenesse
out of the hearers myndes) that haue I with my onely loke, and
presence accomplished.
  And now ye shall wite, to what entent at this tyme, in this so

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straunge an apparell, I am come foorthe amonges you: vpon
condicion ye will not thinke muche to bestowe on me your eares
a while. I meane not those eares that ye carie with you to ser-
mons, but those ye geue to plaiers, to iesters, and to fooles. Yea
s those (hardly) wherwith my friende <1Midas>1 whilom herkened
to the rurall god <1Pan,>1 in preferryng his rusticall songe, before
<1Apollos>1 farre fyner Melodie. For I purpose a season to become
a <1Sophiste,>1 mistake me not I praie you, as if I saied Sophistrer,
suche as now a daies driue into childers heades, certaine tangled
trifuls, with more than womens stubbournesse and skoldyng in
their disputacions. But I meane the other, who to the ende they
myght shonne that presumptuous name of <1Sophi>1 or wysemen,
did rather take vpon them to be called <1Sophistes:>1 Whose study
and profession it was, to aduaunce, and set foorth in theyr
writynges the praises bothe of the Goddes, and of men also,
suche as were famous and worthies here in earth. Ye shall heare
therfore the praise set foorth, not of <1Hercules,>1 nor yet of
Solon, but rather of myne owne selfe, That is to saie of Folie.
   In whiche poinct, a strawe for all these cankerd philosophers,
and sages, who saie it is a moste outragious folie and presump-
cion, for one to praise hym selfe. For truly let them make it as
foo-[A<i2>i]lisshe a parte as they lyste, so longe as they can not
denie it to be congruent. And what (I praie you) maie be more
apt or better sittyng, than dame Foly to praise hir selfe, and be
hir owne trumpet? For who can liuelier descriue me, then I my
selfe? Vnles perhaps some be better acquainted with me, then
I my selfe am. Notwithstandynge, euen this my selfeprayse
(as me semeth) I maie well take vpon me with a more shame-
fast grace, than to do as commenly theis great, and learned men
vse, who suborne some glosyng oratour, or vayne spoken
poete, hyred also for mede, to dilate and blaste foorth their
praises, or (rightlier to saie) peincted lies. And yet shall one
of those shamefast, maidenly men not sticke than to displaie
his pecockes fethers, and rowse hym selfe, whyles suche shameles

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flaterers dooe goe about to make him, being a man lesse worth
than naught, coequall yet vnto the Gods, in blasonnyng hym
for a paragonne, and absolute example of all maner vertues, from
which he knoweth hym selfe to be as farre wyde, as from hence
to the man in the moone. Namely whiles those glorious glosers
woulde decke the crow with other burds fethers, or peyne theim
to washe awaie a Morions blackenesse, or labour of a sely fly
to make an Elephant. For shorte, I folowe in this poincte the
common prouerbe, whiche saieth, that he maie rightly praise
hym selfe, whom none other bodie will.
  All be it to saie the trueth, I can not but meruaile at mens in
gratitude (shuld I call it) or negligence? that where with one
assent they all so frankely dooe obserue me, and gladly peruse
may commoditees, yet hath not one of theim, now so many
reuolucions of yeres passed, vnder [A2<sv>s] taken with some
thankefull oracion to set foorthe the praises of me Folie,
where as some of theym haue not wanted, who with solemne
styles, and muche losse of slepe and candell, shewed at lest
theyr folie, what euer theyr mattier was, in commendacion,
some of this notable tyranne, some of that, some in praise of the
feuer quartane, others in settyng foorth what commoditees be
in a flie, in baldnesse, or suche lyke hatefull thynges. But at my
hand, ye shall heare an vnaduised, and sodeine tale tolde,
thoughe so muche perhaps the truer, Whiche I woulde not ye
shoulde thynke were saied of me for a colour, to aduaunce
therby the rypenesse of my witte, as commonly these learned
men do. Who puttyng foorthe (as ye knowe) some boke more
than whole.xxx. wynters had in cullyng, ye and that sometymes
none of their owne doyng, will sweare yet, that they made it but
for a recreacion of theyr grauer studies, or rather as fast as penne
coulde renne. For truly it hath euer best lyked me to speake
streight what so euer laie on my tongues ende.

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   But this, to the ende ye loke not for it, I doe warne ye of afore
hande, that I in no wyse will, accordyng to these common
Sophisters and Rhetoriciens maner, go about to shew by
diffinicion what I am, and muche lesse vse any diuision: In as
s muche as I holde bothe the one, and the other for vnluckie
tokens, either to comprehende hir vnder a certaine ende, or
limite, whose influence stretcheth so vniuersally, orels to diuide
hir, in whose obseruaunce all men dooe so wholy consent. And
yet I can not tell to what purpose it shoulde serue, to represent
a certaine shadow, or image of my selfe, where as presently ye
[A3] maie discerne me with your eies. For I am here (as ye see)
the distributrix and dealer of all felicitee, named Mwpta in
Greeke, in Latine Stultitia, in Englishe Folie.
   But aye, what neded me to vtter thus muche? as if I bare not
signes enough in my face, and countinance, what maner person
I am: Or as if some one contendyng that I were <1Minerua,>1 or
<1Sophia,>1 myght not straight with my onely loke be confuted,
though I helde my talke, whiche is no liyng myrrour of the
mindes disposicion. For in me (ye must thynke) is no place for
settyng of colours, as I can not saie one thyng, and thynke an
other: but on all sydes I dooe resemble my selfe. So that not so
muche as they can dissemble me, who take vpon theim most
semblant of wysedome, and walke lyke Asses in Lyons skynnes.
That althoughe they counterfeite what they can, yet on some
zssyde their longe eares pearyng foorth, dooe discouer them to
come of <1Midas>1 progenie. The vnkyndest kynde of men liuyng,
who beyng in deede the verie standerdbearers of my bande,
woulde seeme yet afore folke to be so ashamed of my name, as
not seldome they cast it in others teethe for a great reproche.
Suche men therfore, that in deede are archdoltes, and woulde
be taken yet for sages and philosophers, maie I not aptelie calle
theim foolelosophers?
   For as in this behalfe I haue thought good to borowe a littell
of the Rhetoriciens of these daies, who plainely thynke theim

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selfes demygodes, if lyke horsleches thei can shew two tongues,
I meane to mingle their writinges with wordes sought out of
strange langages, as if it were a louely thyng for theim to poudre
theyr bokes with ynkehorne termes, although per- [A3 <sv>s]chaunce
as vnaptly applied, as a gold rynge in a sowes nose. That and if
they want suche farre fetched vocables, than serche they out of
some rotten pamphlet foure or fyue disused woordes of anti-
quitee, therewith to darken the sence vnto the reader, to the
ende, that who so vnderstandeth theim, maie repute hym selfe
for more cunnyng, and litterate: and who so dooeth not, shall
so muche the rather yet esteeme it to be some high mattier,
because it passeth his learnyng. For this is truely not the least
of my pleasant propretees, to make men euer sette moste store
by straunge and outlandisshe thynges. So that some be of suche
a vaingloriousnesse, as whan they can least skyll therof, yet
will they flire, and nodde the head at it, and (as the Asse doeth)
wagge theyr eares, to make others beleue that they are depely
seen therin. And this, is thus.
  But now I retourne to my mattier. Ye haue hearde my name
than (0 my friendes) what addicion shall I geue you? What? but
my most foolisshe friendes. For by what more manerly surname
maye the Goddesse Folie calle hir seruauntes, and alies? But
now seyng all folkes know not of what lynage I am descended,
so healpe me the Muses as I entende to declare the same vnto
you. My father therfore was neyther <1Chaos,>1 nor <1Orcus,>1 nor
<1Saturnus,>1 nor any other of that olde and rustie race of Gods,
but Plutus the golden god of riches, and <2the onely syre of Gods>2
and men, though <1Hesiodus, Homere,>1 yea and <1Iupiter>1 hym
selfe stande neuer so stifly against me. At whose onely becke as
aforetymes, so now also, bothe holy and vnholy thynges be
tourned topset turuie. At whose arbitrement, warre, peace,
kyngdomes, counsailes, iudge- [A4] mentes, assemblees, ma-
riages, couenauntes, leagues, lawes, sciences, games, earnest
mattiers (my breath faileth me) to be short, all publike, and

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pri-uate doynges of men are administred. Without whose ayde,
the whole route of the poeticall Goddes, yea I will saie further,
those that be the chosen Goddes, should either not be at all, or
liue els with a messe of sklendre chere: That whom so he is
s agreued with, <1Pallas>1 is not able to protecte hym. And who so
hath hym on his syde, maie (if it lyke hym) defie <1Iupiter,>1 with
all his thunder. And suche a father (loe) dooe I glorie in. Who
neither begatte me of his braine, as <1Iupiter>1 did that vnamiable,
skowlyng Goddesse <1Pallas,>1 but of <1Youthe,>1 a Nymph aboue all
others most fayre, and goodly. Neither was he (I warrant you)
at the tyme of my begettyng clogged with the heauie yoke of
wedlocke, wherin <1Vulcane>1 that lymphault smithe was borne,
but rather mixed in loue (as my Homere saieth) whiche I take
to be a copulacion not a little more pleasant than the other is.
Further, to the ende that ye mistake no thyng, I dooe ye to wite
that Plutus begatte me not in his olde daies, whan he was
blynde, and skarce able to goe for age, and goutinesse, as the
poete <1Aristophanes>1 descriueth hym: but in his prime yeres,
whan as yet he was sounde, and full of hote bloudde, but muche
fuller of <1Nectar>1 drinke, whiche sittyng at bourde with the other
Goddes, he had sipped than by chaunce somewhat more than
enough.
   Nowe and if ye loke to be instructed also of my byrth place,
in so muche as now a daies men thynke how the countrey where
one is borne doeth not a little importe towardes his nobilitee,
ye shall vn-[A4<sv>s]derstande that I was brought foorth neither
in flotyng <1Delos,>1 as Apollo, nor amonges the <1wauing seas,>1
where <1Venus>1 toke hir beginnyng, nor yet in <1holow rockes>1
vnder grounde, as was the great god <1Iupiter,>1 but euen amiddes
the <1Ilandes,>1 whiche of their synguler fertilitee and fruiteful-
nesse, are called <1Fortunatae,>1 where as all thynges grow vn-
sowed and vntilled. In whiche iles neither labour, nor age, nor
any maner sickenesse reigneth, nor in the fieldes there dooe

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either Nettles, Thistles, Mallowes, Brambles, Cockle, or suche
lyke bagage grow, but in steede therof Gylofloures, Roses,
Lilies, Basile, Violettes, and suche swete smellyng herbes, as
whilom grew in <1Adonis>1 gardeins, dooe on all sides satisfie bothe
the sente, and the sight. Thus borne in these delites, I beganne
not my life with teares, but straightwaies smyled sweetely on
my mother, an euident argument and token of good lucke as
these byrthlotters saie.
  Further as concernyng my bringynge vp, I am not enuious
that <1Iupiter>1 the great god had a gote to his fostresse, seyng two
so pleasant Nymphes, as <1Dronkennes>1 daughter vnto Bacchus,
and <1Rudenes>1 the daughter of <1Pan>1 were my nourses. Whom ye
maie se here also amonges my other women and handmaides
about me. Whose narnes in case ye liste to know, I am verie well
content to reherse theim vnto you. For this mayde truely, whom
ye maie beholde with browes vpcast, lokyng euer as if she
wondred at somethyng, is called <1Selfloue.>1 This next hir that
fareth as if she flired vpon you, and clappeth hir handes to-
gether is <1Adulacion.>1 This slouggerd, and drowsie head, is
named <1Obliuion.>1 This, than, that leaneth on hir elbowes
clas-[Bi]pyng hir handes togethers, is called <1Lythernes.>1 This
besydes hir with the Rose garlande on hir head, and all to per-
furned with sweete sauours, is cleped <1Voluptuousnes.>1 This
ith the rollyng and vnstedfaste eies, is <1Madnes.>1 This other
with the slicke skinne, and fayre fedde bodie, is called <1Delica->1
<1cie.>1 As for these two Goddes, whiche ye maie see also in the
felowship of my other traine, the one is named <1Belichere,>1 the
other <1Soundslepe.>1 Now if ye aske me, what stede these stande
me to? I aunsweare, that throughe the trustie ayde of such a
bande as this is, I subdue all the world vnder my dominion,
bearyng empire ouer emperours theim selues.
  Ye haue heard me thus declare vnto you my lynage, my

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          educacion, and my familie. But least now I myght causelesse
          seme to challenge the name of a Goddesse, herken ye therfore
          attentiuely, with how great commoditees I endue bothe goddes
          and men, and how largely my power stretcheth. For and if a
          certaine autour wrote not muche amisse, <2how this war proprely>2
          <2the office of a God, to do benefite to mortall men:>2 further, if suche
          haue woorthily ben ascribed to the senate of the gods, as were
          fyrst inuentours of wyne, of corne, and suche lyke commoditees
          for your liuyng: why shoulde not I than rightfully be taken,
          and set tofore theim all, who onely am the geuer of all thynges,
          to all men?
            For fyrst (I axe) what maie be sweter or more dearer vnto you,
          than is your life? but the originall springe, and plantacion of the
          same, whom shoulde ye thanke for, but me onely? In as muche
          as neither the speare of <1Pallas,>1 ne yet the shielde of <1Iupiter>1
called <1Aegis,>1 is it, that engendreth mankynde: but the selfe
<1Iupiter,>1 <2father of the>2 [Bi<sv>s] <2Goddes, and hynge of kynges,who>2
<2with his onely becke, can shake all heauen>2, must laie downe his
<2threforked thunder,>2 and also his grimme countinaunce, wherwith
whan hym listeth he can make all the Goddes to tremble, yea
and lyke a plaier must disguise hym selfe into an other personage,
in case he woulde dooe the thyng, that almost he alwaies prac-
tiseth (whiche is) <2to gette children.>2 Againe, amonges mortall men,
the <1Stoikes>1 counte theim selues to be next the Goddes in per-
fection. But bringe me one, admitte he be foure, or fiue, or (if
you list) six hundred tymes a <1Stoike,>1 and yet must he laie
downe, if not his longe berde, betokenyng wisedome, whiche
natheles gotes haue also, at least (I saie) laie asyde his graue, and
frounyng loke, he must caulme, and explane his forehead, he
must caste awaie those his yronlike lessons, and preceptes of
doctrine, it is I, it is I (beleue me) whom that wise and sage
<1Stoike>1 muste haue recourse vnto, in case he wolde be a father.
And why shoulde I not commen more familiarly with you,

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accordyng to my custome? I praie you, is it the head? the face?
the breast? the handes? or the eares? which partes of the body
are named honest,   that engendre gods, and men? I trow no.
Naie, it is euin that selie membre, so fonde, and foolisshe, as
maie not without laughter be spoken of, whiche is the onely
planter of mankynde. That, is the onely fountaine, whens all
thynges receiue life, a great deale sooner than from <1Pythagoras>1
<1quaternion.>1 As concernyng the vse wherof, who is he (suppose
ye) woulde take in his mouthe the snaffle of wedlocke, if (accord-
yng as these wisemen are wonte to dooe) he shoulde fyrste caste
and recken with [B2] hyrn selfe the discommoditees of that trade
of life? Or what woman wolde yelde vnto a man, if she either
knew, or thought vpon the perillous throwes of childbearyng,
or trauaile of their bringyng vp? That and if ye owe your liues
to wedlocke, and wedlocke ye owe to my damoisell <1Madnes,>1
ow ye maie soone gesse, what ye owe, and shoulde referre to
me. Than, who is she, that after one assaie, woulde eftesoones
venter childebearyng, ne were it not throughe the encourage-
ment of <1Obliuion?>1  No not <1Venus>1 hir selfe (what euer <1Lucre->1
<1tlus>1 writeth) will denie, but that hir might in engendrure
remaigneth voyde, and of small effect, without thaccesse of mine
ayde. So that to conclude, I saie how of this my dronken and
ridiculous game, are procreate (omittyng vulgare folke) bothe
graue philosophers, whom suche succede now, as ye call monkes,
and purpre princis, and holy priestes, and thrise holy bishoppes,
at ones, all the whole route of the <2Poeticall Gods,>2 so swarmyng,
as skarce all heauen is able to conteine them, be it neuer so large
of roume.
But take it hardly for nothyng that ye owe thus vnto me the
verie fountaine, and springe of your lyfe, in case what euer other
commoditees ye haue therin, I dooe not proue theim also to
procede of my goodnesse. For as touchyng this life here, maie it

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woorthily be called a life (I praie you) if ye take pleasure and
delight awaie? dooe you nodde vpon me? well saied: I wyst
there was none of you all so wyse, or rather so foolysshe, naie
wyse sooner, as wolde be of any other opinion. How be it, euen
these sage <1Stoikes>1 dooe not in deede, so greatly despise plea-
sure, as outwardly thei dissemble, and afore folkes doe [B2v]
baite hir with a thousande repreues, to none other entent (I
warrante you) saue that whan others are rated therfro, thei than
maie more at libertee enioie hir. But I wolde thei shulde tell me,
what any part of this life there is, not heauie, not vnpleasant,
not vrkesome, not vnsauourie, vnles ye put <1Pleasure,>1 that is to
saie, the <2Saulce of Folie>2 vnto it? for proufe wherof, as I could
alleage the sufficient auctoritee of <1Sophocles,>1 whose noble
sentence in my fauour, is neuer enough praised, where he saieth,
that <2In knowyng least, the blisfulst lyfe is ledde,>2 So I am content
yet for your better instruction, to disclose euery thyng more
particularly vnto you.
  And fyrst, who is he but will confesse <1Childhode,>1 the fyrst
age of man, to be most gracious and acceptable vnto all folkes?
for els, what is it in younge babes that we dooe kysse so, we doe
colle so, we dooe cherisshe so, that a verie enemie is moued to
spare and succour this age, vnles it be the allurement of Folie?
whiche, natures circumspection, euin purposedly, hath adioigned
to children, to the ende that with some reputacion of pleasure,
thei might supple the trauaile of theyr bringers vp, and prouoke
the beneuolence of suche as tende vnto theim. The next age
than that succedeth hereto, I meane <1Youthe,>1 how acceptable
(I praie you) is it to all folkes? how is eche enclined to it? how
willyngly dooeth euery wight set it forwarde? how diligently
dooe all men put to theyr healpyng handes: And wherof (trow
ye) procedeth this grace of <1Youthe,>1 but of me onely? through
whose benefite, a younge man knoweth least, and therfore
taketh least thought. Take me for a lier, vnles as soone as he
waxeth elder, beginnyng [B3] throughe experience and disci-

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plines to sauour of <1Manhode,>1 than incontinent the floure of his
beautie decaieth, his myrth fadethe, his grace waxeth colde, his
strength diminissheth, so that the farther and farther he is re-
tired from me, the lesse and lesse he liueth, vntill at last, <2tedious>2
<2olde>2 age dooe crepe vpon hym, not onely vrkesome to others,
but hatefull also to him selfe: whiche <1Olde age>1 (on my con-
science) no mortall man wold endure to byde out, if I againe
takyng compassion at theyr so great labours and encombrances,
did not somwhat releue the same. That like as these goddes of
the poetes, are wont with some transformacion or likenesse
tournyng, to succour men readie to perisshe, so I also (that in
me lyeth) dooe reuoke suche aged men as are at deathes dore,
and next the pitte, backe againe vnto childhode: Wherupon, not
causeles, folkes call theim <2twyse children.>2 Now and if some
woulde aske me how I dooe transforme theim so, I will not hyde
so muche as that from you. For I bringe them to the fountaine
of my mayden <1Obliuion,>1 called <1Lethes,>1 whiche springeth in the
Isles <1fortunate>1 (for as for the other that renneth through the
fleldes <1Elisii,>1 is but a small branche of this former) to the ende
that as soone as they there haue dronken longe forgetfulnesse of
thinges passed, thei maie, by little and little, wasshyng awaie all
the troubles and carefulnesses of the mynde, become childisshe
agayne.
   But some perhaps will obiecte to me, and saie, that suche olde
men dooe dote now, and are paste theyr wittes. Yea, be as be
maie, yet this is euin the plaine recourse vnto childhode. For is
the same ought els (suppose you) than dotage, or ignorance? is
it ought [B3<sv>s] els in children that deliteth you, than their indis-
crecion? For who is he that wolde not eschew, and abhorre, no
lesse then a monster, a child being endued with manlyke reason
and capacitee? Wherunto accordeth this common prouerbe,
<2I  hate the childe, whose witte ripeneth before the tyme.>2 Or who

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wold gladly susteine to haunt, or kepe company with that olde
man, who vnto his so longe practise, and experience in thynges,
had added also lyke quicknesse of the mynde, and lyke sharp-
nesse of discourse?
Conclude therfore, that old age doteth thorough my benefite,
and yet ye see howe these my good dotardes, shall in the meane
whyle rest vacant and discharged of all suche cares and anxieties,
wherwith wisemen of fressher sprites are wrongen continually,
and in the meane whyle become cherisshers eche of other, by
neyghbourly gossippyng togethers, and table plaie, felyng no
maner tediousnesse of this life, whiche skarce a liuelier age
suffreth, yea and sometyme learne againe to spell <1a, m, o,>1 as
the olde man of <1Plautus>1 dooeth, most wretched, in case one
yntch of sound witte remained in theim, and yet through my
procurement, moste happy, beyng also deare, and welcome to
theyr friendes, amonges other respectes, for this, that com-
monly they are verie pleasant in company, and merily bespoken.
For in <1Homer>1 ye maie reade, howe out of <2Nestors mouthe there>2
<2ffowed woordes sweeter than honie,>2 wheras <1Achilles>1 langage
<2byted bitter.>2 In <1Homer>1 also, <2Olde men leaning ouer Troie walles>2
<2Putfoorthe a swetedelyuerid Joyce.>2 As to whiche regarde, theirs
maie be preferred before the verie grace of infancie, whiche sure
is muche gracious, but yet partly disgraced, when it lacketh
speache, and [B4] chattyng, that are euin the chiefest recreacions
of mans life. Adde hereto,thatolde age ioyeth muche in children,
and children lykewyse will euer bee about oldefolkes. <2Suche is>2
<2nature, couplyng lyke and lyke together,>2 for what other thing is
there vnlike betwix them? saue that <1Elde,>1 is fuller of wrincles, and
noumbreth more yeeres? <1Els>1, their white heares, their totheles
iawes, lesse proporcion of theyr bodies, mylklongyng, fumblyng
in the mouthe, chattyng, fondnesse, forgetfulnesse, rechelous-
nesse, for briefe, all other condicions be of one degree, so that
the nearer men aproche to olde age, the nearer retourne thei to

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the forme of childhode, till at laste, euin lyke children, no
tediousnesse of life, nor sence of death felt, they depart out of
his worlde.
   Can any of you compare now the other goddes transforma-
ions, with this of myne? who what thei dooe in waie of dis-
leasure, me listeth not to reherse: But whom they moste
fauour, and are pleased with, them (trow I) thei are wont to
chaunge into trees, into foules, into grashoppers, ye or some-
tyme into serpentes, as if it were not a certaine kynde of perissh-
yng to be altered so into a new lykenesse: wheras I reduce the
selfe same man, to the best, and most pleasaunt parte of all his
lyfe. That and if men had the grace to forbeare quite from med-
lyng with wisedome, leadyng foorth all theyr lyfe in my seruice,
now (I wene) there shoulde be no olde age at all, but rather
they shoulde enioie a moste happie, and continuall youthe.
   For see you not (I praie you) how these wysemen, who are
geuen to philosophie, or some suche ernest and graue studie,
dooe for the most parte waxe hore, before they be fully yonge
[B4v] men? whiche vndoubtedly cometh of cares, and incessant
sharpe trauailyng of the braine, by little and little sokyng vp the
liuely iuyce of the sprites: wheras my fooles on the other side,
be slicke, and smothe skinned, yea and well trussed together,
<2lyke hoglynges of Acarnania:>2 suche as neuer shoulde fele (I war-
rant you) any discommoditee of age, ne were it not that some-
tyme by chaunce, thei be infected with the contagious company
of wysemen. Suche is the lotte of mans life, suffryng nothyng on
all partes to be blisfull.
   And here I maie bringe in the approued auctoritee of the
prouerbe, whiche affirmeth <2Folie to be the onely lynke, that>2
<2staieth fletyng youthe, and hepeth of combrous age.>2 Lyke as not
causeles men saie by the <1Brabanters,>1 that wheras yeeres
make other people the wyser, they, the lenger thei lyue, are rooted

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the deper in folie. Yet for all that, where fynde you any nacion
more iocunde, or meter for the commen trade of liuing, or that
lesse feleth ages weight, than this dooeth? To whom as in coun-
trey, so also in maners are my <1Hollanders>1 next neighbours.
For why shoulde I sticke to call them myne? Seeyng thei take
my parte so ernestly, as therby thei haue gotten theim my name
for an addicion, so little wherof thei ar ashamed, as they passe
not to boste theim selues in it.
  Let theim that will now goe, and seke out, <1Medea, Circes,>1
<1Venus, Aurora,>1 or I wote neuer what maner <1Iountaine,>1 to
haue theyr youthe restored, wheras I onely am she that maie,
and vse to dooe it. It is I that hauethat meruailous iuyce,where-
with <1Memnons>1 daughter proroged the youthe of hir graund
sire <1Tithonus.>1 I am that <1Venus,>1 through whose fauour <1Phaon>1
[Ci] waxed yonge againe, whom therfore <1Sappho>1 so much
loued. Mine be those herbes, if any suche be, and mine be those
charmes, and myne is that fountaine, that not onely calle youthe
backe againe, ones beyng vanisshed, but also (whiche is more
desyrable) dooeth conserue it euerlastyng. That and if ye all
dooe subscribe to this opinion, how nothyng is more pleasaunt
than youthe, and nothing more cumbresome than age, now
(I trow) ye perceiue how muche ye are beholdyng to me, seeyng
I vpholde to you so great a weale, so great an euill excluded.
  But what speake I yet of mortall men? serche ye (hardly) all
heauen, and who that list than scorne he my name, in case he
finde any of the goddes not crabbed, and dispisable, vnles my
influence dooe commend hym. For why is my cosyn <1Bacchus>1
euer lyke a striplyng, and fayre busshed? Forsouth because like
a witles and dronken compaignion, passyng his time in bank-
ettes, daunces, and plaies, he hath neuer thus muche to doe
with <1Pallas>1 goddesse of wysedome. Finally, so little setteth he
to be holden wyse, as the obseruaunce that he requireth at mens

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handes is naught but maygames, shrouynges, and suche lyke
fantsies. Neither is he offended with the prouerbe callyng
hym a foole, as, <2Foolissher than Morychus.>2 For thei call hym
<1Morychus>1 because vplandisshe hobbes in sport are wont at
bringyng home of haruest, to besmere his image sette before
temple dores, with muste, and grene fygges. And (lord) with
what iestes the writers of the olde Cornedies doe taunt hym?
  <2O fonde God>2 (saie thei) <2and woorthy who shoulde issue>2
<2grine of Iupiter:>2 Yet who woulde not rather chose, if choise were
offred, to bee suche a [Ci<sv>s] foole, and popie as he is, beyng euer
merie conceited, euer younglyke, euer prouokyng men to laugh-
ter with his sporte and pleasantnesse, than <1Iupiter>1 hym selfe,
<2with all his depe dissembled chere,>2 lokyng so sternly, as geueth
terrour to the goddes also? Or <1Pan,>1 who with his sodaine frai-
mentes and tumultes, bringeth age ouer all thynges? Or <1Vul->1
<1canus>1 the lymphault smithe, full of smoke and embres, euer
filthie with the toyle that he endureth in his forge? Orels <1Pallas>1
my great aduersarie, beyng so muche redoubted because she
beareth speare, and shielde: who euer sheweth a payre of
skoulyng eies? But why (I praie you) is <1Cupide>1 alwaies lyke
a yonge boie? why? but that he is a trifler, neither doyng, nor
thynkyng any wyse acte, I warrant you. Why hath <1Venus>1 also
hir beautie <2euer alyke flourisshyng?>2 why? but that she is sybbe
vnto me? euin as hir visage resembleth my fathers colour, for
<1Homer>1 nameth hir <2golden Aphroditis.>2 So, she is euer smilyng,
if we credite the poetes, or theyr counterfaitours the peinters.
Moreouer, what godhead didde the <1Romaines>1 woorship euer
more religiously, than that of <1Flora>1 the mother of all pleasures
and solasses? How be it on the other syde, who so woulde
narowlier serche, and consider the maner of liuyng, euin of
those <2sowre and glommtng gods,>2 either out of <1Homer,>1 or other
poetes, he shuld finde them (no faile) as foolishe, and dissolute,
as these. For what nedeth me to allege meaner Goddes Folies?
whan all ye haue at your fingers endes, howe great a louer
<2thundring Iupiter is?>2 Also how graue <1Dame Diane>1 forgettyng

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womanhode, dooeth naught but hounte all daie longe, visityng
by startes yet hir sweeteherte [C2] <1Endymion?>1
  But as for me, I had leuer thei shoulde heare theyr faultes
tolde theim of <1Momus>1 the god of Reprehension, at whose
handes so many tymes thei haue ben taunted. Sauyng, that not
longe agone thei threw downe him and <1Atis>1, headlong togethers
to the earth, because that euer with his wyse sawes and admoni-
cions he semed out of season to iarre against their felicitee.
Poore <1Momus>1 therefore wandreth aboute lyke a vacabound, in
as muche as no mortall man will gladly vouchesaue hym her-
bourough, for feare of <1Iupiters>1 displeasure, muche lesse that
he can be receiued into princes courtes, for there my <1Adulacion>1
beareth the swinge, who agreeth no more with <1Momus,>1 <2than>2
<2lambes dooe with the woulfe.>2 So that synce he is ones remoued,
the goddes aboue maie now muche franklier, and at more liber-
tee plaie theyr pageauntes, <2leadyngfoorth an easie lyfe>2 (as <1Homer>1
saieth) wheras no countroller dare call theim to accoumpte.
For (Lorde) the sporte that <1Priapus>1 the great tooled god
maketh them? what pastyme haue thei at <1Mercurius,>1 with his
theft, and iuggling. Not so muche as <1Vulcane,>1 but whan the
gods are sette at bankette, he plaieth the iester, now with his
lymphaultyng, nowe with his skoffyng, and nowe with his ouer-
thwarte woordes, to prouoke theim all to laughter. Than cometh
<1Silenus>1 that horeheadded louer, treadyng the hornpipe, with
<1Poliphemus>1 boisteously stampyng, and the <1Nymphes>1 trip-
pyng barefooted, The <2Satyres halfe gotes dauncyng the Antikes,>2
And <1Pan>1 with his oten flute singyng some rurall songe, doeth
wonderously delite them, as whom, at that time, they had
rather heare, than the <1Muses>1 theim selues: [C2<sv>s] chiefely, whan
thei beginne to be throughly chafed with theyr <1Nectar>1 drinke.
But what shuld I tell you of that the goddes doe after suche
compotacions? thynges so foolisshe, as I my selfe can scant
refreine from laughter. It is besttherfore that herein I remembre
<1Harpocrates>1 for his silence, lest some euisdropper god, doe

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herken me blabbyng foorth suche thynges of theim, as not
<1Momus>1 hym selfe spake euer vnpunisshed.
   So now it is tyme, that (folowyng <1Homers>1 example) I leaue
he goddes aboue, and make returne to the earth, to discusse,
ow nothyng here is either gladsome, or desirable, vnlesse the
same begin at me. For fyrst, ye se with how great prouidence,
<1Nature>1 the foundresse of mankynde hath forcast, that no
where, in any part of mans lyfe the saulce of Folie shulde be
wanted. For <2if wisedome,>2 accordyng to the <1Stoikes>1 diffinicion,
<2is naught els, than to be ruled by reason.: andfolie, to be ledde as>2
<2anection will:>2 Consider now (I praie you) how rnuche more
<1Affection,>1 than <1Reason, Iupiter>1 hath put in men, to the ende
theyr lyfe shulde not altogethers be heauy, and vnpleasant. As
if ye shoulde compare an ounce to a pounde. Furthermore, he
shutte vp <1Reason>1 within the narowe compasse of mans head,
leauyng all the rest of the bodie to affections: settyng also, two
most violent tyrannes against hir, that is to saie, <1Anger,>1 raignyng
in the fortresse of the hert: and <1concupiscence,>1 whiche euin to
the lowest part of the bealy, dooeth occupie a large possession.
Against these two so stronge champions, how muche <1Reason>1
maie resiste, the commen trade of mens lyues declareth suffi-
ciently. That wheras <1Reason,>1 as muche as lieth in hir, dooeth
crie against them, [C3] euin till she be hoarse, alleageyng what
honestie will, and requireth, yet daigne not thei to obey, but
muche more furiously dooe repyne at hir, till at last she also,
beyng weried, is faine to yelde for vanquisshed.
   But in so muche as to man, borne to gouerne, and rule,
<1Iupiter>1 thought it meate to distribute <1Reason>1 somewhat in a
larger assise, to the ende yet he myght partly alaie the excesse,
he called me (as he is wont) amonges the other goddes to coun-
saile: and by and by I gaue hym aduise lyke my selfe, that a
woman shoulde be associate vnto hym. <1A>1 creature (god know-
eth) bothe foolisshe, and vnwittie, but natheles pleasaunt, and

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gracious. To the ende that throughe daiely company, and
dwellyng together, she with hir Folie myght relesse, and make
doulcet the sadnesse of mans courage. For where <1Plato>1 semeth
to doubte, <2whether he shoulde putte a woman amonges reasonable,>2
<2or vnreasonable creatures,>2 it was no more, but to shew and ex-
presse the notable Folie of that sexe. So that if any woman
studieth to be counted wyse, she dooeth naught els but labour
to be twyse foolisshe, <2as if ye woldforce a cowe against hir nature>2
<2to leape through a hoope.>2 For the fault is doubled, whan so euer
one against kind, woulde counterfaite a glosse of vertue, to
writhe the mynde otherwyse than of nature it plieth. Accordyng
as the greke prouerbe saieth, An <2ape, is an ape, be she clothed in>2
<2purpre,>2 so a woman is a woman (that is to saie) a foole, what so
euer parte she plaie.
Yet I thinke not that women are so verie fooles, to be angrie
with me herefore, that I beyng Folie hir selfe, and a woman also,
doe arrect Folie vnto theim. For and if they waie all thynges
indifferently, they shall soone perceiue, how [C3<sv>s] muche I am
to be thanked, that for many respectes thei are farre happier
than men be. Fyrst, for theyr beauties sake, beautie (I saie)
whiche not without good cause is had in so great price by theim,
as vnder whose shielde and protection, they doe exercise
tyrannie, yea ouer tyrannes theim selfes. For els, whence cometh
to men that sternes of their visages, roughnesse of skinne, and
thickenesse of theyr beardes, beyng a verie representacion of
oldnesse, sauyng of the excesse, or rather disease of wisedome?
wheras women with their smoth chekes, small voices, and fine
skinnes, dooe euer shew a certaine youthlikenesse. Againe, what
is it in this life that women sooner coueite, than to be belyked of
men? Tende not (trow ye) to this effect, so many their attyres?
so many peinctynges, so many bathynges? so many heare curl-
ynges, so many glisshes? so many perfumes? so many waies of
nyce simpring, nycer smilyng, nycest goyng, be it but on an

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yntch of lether, and all to sette theim selfes foorth to the shewe?
Further, what greatter priuilege haue women ouer men, than
their foolisshenesse? For what is it, that men permitte not as
leafull, or at least to be borne with, in women? but vnder what
other title, than of delectacion? But how dooe they delite men,
sauyng with their Folie? This to be true, can not be denied,
who so will consider with hym selfe, what fonde talke and
deuises, a man is faine to fynde out, as often as he entendeth to
take fruicion and pleasure of a woman. And thus I haue de-
clared you from what springe the first and chiefest recreacion
of this your life is deriued.
   But yet some persons there be, namely olde men, rather good
[C<i4>i] maltwormes, than women haunters, who contrarie to my
supposicion will putte theyr greatest felicitee in tipling, and
good fare. As touchyng whiche poincte, I referre it to others
iudgement if any feast or banket be made in the right kynde,
vnles women are at the same. But of this I am sure, how without
the saulce of Folie, no banket can be toethsome. In sort that if
there want one, who with his owne, or counterfaite Folie, maie
sturre the gestes to laughter, than straight is some iester, or
other madde knaue sent for, with his bald and foolisshe skoffes,
to put awaie the sadde stylnesse of the feast. For els, what
booted so many ionkettes, sweete meates, and daintries to ba-
lace the belie withal, vnles the eies, the eares, and the whole mind,
were also fedde with laughter, sporte, and merie conceites?
But of all suche knackes I am the onely deuisour, like as this,
that now is solemnely taken vp at bankettes, <2to chose a kynge by>2
<2lottes, to Plaie at tables, to bringe good lucke, to quasse about the>2
<2bourde, to synge carolles,>2 with suche like obseruances, was neuer
ordeigned by the <2seuin sages of Grece,>2 but throughe myne in-
uencion, for the conseruacion, and auaile of mankynde. Yet
marke you the nature of all suche deuises, and ye shall see, that
the more folie they smell of, the more they dooe profite the life

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 of mortall men. Whiche life, in case it be ouerwaied with sad-
nesse, than sure it scantly deserueth the name of lyfe. And sadde
must it nedes be, vnles with some kynde of pastyme ye wype
awaie tediousnesse, nexte cosyn to the other.
Now some perchaunce there are, who little will esteeme this
kynde of pleasure also, but rather rest wholy on the league and
acquaintance of one frend [C4<sv>s] with an other. Affirmyng friend-
ship to be the onely thyng, whiche shoulde be sought and em-
braced before all the other commodities of your lyfe, beyng
(saie they) so necessarie, and behouable, as neither ayre, nor
fyre, nor water maie be more requisite vnto men, and therto so
appropriately annexed, as the sonnes heate maie as soone as
friendship be spared amonges you: and besydes this so honest
a thynge (if honestie as you thinke make ought to purpose) as
not the philosophers theim selues dooe sticke to put friendship
euin amonges the chiefest weales of this lyfe. But what will ye
saie now, if I can proue my selfe to be bothe croppe, and roote,
of this so great a benefite? proue it to you (I saie) neither with
<1Barbara,>1 nor <1Celarent,>1 nor any suche <1Dialectical>1 quaynt
subtiltes, but euin of the plainest and bluntest facion, poyncte
you to it, as it were with my finger?
  Fyrst therfore whan you see a man flatter, dissemble, or
wynke at his friendes faultes, yea, and sometyme owe fauour,
or rather wonder at some great vices of his, takyng theim for
vertues: doe you not count hym (I praie you) next sybbe to
a foole? What if an other take <2some deformitee that his lemman>2
<2hath, for a great grace,>2 or a father, <2whose childe is squynt eied,>2
<2calleth hym natheles his pretie pinkeied boie,>2 is not this (trow ye)
plaine folie? Let sages crie againe and againe, that it is folie, yet
this same folie is the glew that souldreth, and interteigneth
friendes together. I speake of mortall men, of whom none
lyueth without some faultes. So that, he maie well be holden
for the best, that is combred with the smallest. Wheras amonges

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these Goddes of wysedome, either no friendship can fa- [D i]sten
at all, or if it doe, yet is it but a frounyng, and an vnpleasaunt
riendship, and suche, as taketh place amonges verie few of
heim. for it were to sore to saie amonges none, seyng the most
art of men doe ouershote theirn selues: yea, if I saied all,
1 rnight abyde by it, so many sundrie waies is euery wight
subiect vnto Folie. And friendship is neuer proprely knitte, but
betweene men of egall estate and condicion. That admitte some-
yme a maner amitie is so kyndled betweene these wysemen:
god knoweth yet how short a life, and continuance it shall be of,
namely amonges so wayward faultfinders, as commenly suche
sages are, beyng euer readie to fynde an hole, and castyng as
sharpe an eie vpon theyr friendes faultes, <2as an Egle doeth vpon>2
<2hir praie.>2 But (Lorde) for all that how poreblinde are they in
theyr owne? not ones loking backe at the sachell hangyng be-
hynde theim. In as muche than as the nature of men is suche,
that no witte maie be founde, not lymed with some great vices,
in case ye adde therto the diuersnesse bothe of mens inclina-
cions, and ages, together with so many ouersightes, so many
errours, and chaungyng chaunces, as this mortall lyfe is dis-
posed to, now I see not how the fruite of friendships pleasaunt-
nesse shulde one halfe howre be conserued betwene so narow
discussers of thynges, vnles the remedie <2of forbearyng one an>2
<2other,>2 whiche also in Greeke, is as muche to saie, as Folie, were
added for a staie and maintenance of the same. But what saie
ye? <1Cupide>1 hym selfe the god of all loue and friendship, is he
not blynde? to whom as oftentimes not fayre thynges seeme
fayre, so lykewyse amonges you he bringeth to passe, that eche
[Di <sv>s] dooeth thynke his owne burde fayrest, and lyke will euer
cleue to lyke. Now though we see, howe commenly these thinges
are doen, and commenly laughed to skorne, yet such fondnesse
is it that souldreth, and holdeth a pleasaunt felowship of life
atwixe you.
   Further, what I haue saied by friendship, muche more maie

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I saie by mariage. Whiche is to saie, an <2inseparable coniunction>2
<2of man>2 and <2woman.>2 But (Lorde) what diuorsementes, or in-
happen, in case their daiely societee, and dwellyng togethers,
were not, now with flaterie, now with daliance, now with sport,
with forbearyng, with errour, with dissemblyng (all of my garde
I warrant you) boeth propped vp, and nourisshed? Good lorde,
how few spowsailes shoulde goe thorough, in case the wower
wisely aforehand did boult out, what wanton partes the tender,
and to his semyng, shamefast mayden hath plaied longe afore
he knew hir? Further, how few mariages ones solemnised, shuld
continue in force: vnles the most part of the wiues pageantes
were cloked, either through hir husbandes negligence, or
doltisshenesse? All this, and woorthily, is arrected to Folie.
Yet dooeth this folie make the wyfe to be cherisshed of hir hus-
bande, the husband lykewise of his wife, their hous to be quiete,
and thaffinitee betwene theyr friendes to remaine. <2The cokeholde>2
<2witolde,>2 or what other name ye list to geue hym, is laught to
scorne, whan with his lippes he sucketh in the teares of his scant
honest wife. Yea good enough. How muche better shall he finde
it to be deceiued so, than thoroughe ielousie to frette hym selfe,
and set all thynges on a rore.
For short conclu-[D2]sion (I saie) so muche lacketh that any
maner friendship, societie of life, or companiyng together, maie
without myne accesse be pleasant, or longe lifed, as not the
people woulde longe beare theyr ruler, nor a seruaunt his mais-
ter, a mayde hir mastres, a scholer his teacher, a friende his
friende, the husbande his wyfe, a lender the hirer, a chamber-
felow his chamberfelow, nor a bourdmate his bourdmate, vnles
by turnes atwixe them selues thei shuld sometime erre, some-
time flatter, sometimes wincke for the nones, and now and than
coumfort theyr bittred tast with some hony of foolisshenesse.
These thynges (I wote well) seme right meruailous vnto you,

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but geue me leaue a little, and ye shall heare further. I praie you,
can he loue any bodie, that loueth not hym selfe? can he agree
ith any body, that discordeth with hym selfe? Maie he please
thers, that is displeasant, and tedious to hym selfe? But settyng
me asyde, so muche lacketh, that any man can abide or beare
what others dooe, as ye shall see hym fall out with hym selfe,
mislyke what so euer he dooeth, and be his owne hater. For
nature, not in few poinctes rather a stepdame than a mother,
hath graffed this euill propretie in mens heades, namely theirs
that are skilfuller, that euer they despise what qualitee is theyr
owne, and sette more by that they see in others. Wherby it
commes to passe, that all the giftes, and graces, of this lyfe, are
quite lorne and defaced. For what auaileth beautee? beautie
(I saie) the verie chiefest gifte that the immortall Goddes dooe
geue here, if he that hath it, reketh not of it? Or what auaileth
youthe? If it be drowned with the leuaine of hore sadnesse.
Finally in any maner [D2<sv>s] trade of life, what can a man goe
about to dooe semely, and with a good grace, either by hym
selfe, or afore others (as in deede, to expresse and set a thyng
foorth liuely, is not onely the chiefest poincte of cunnyng, but
also the verie head of any thyng put in vre) if this my damoisell
<1Selfloue>1 be not his aduauncer, whom woorthily I holde ther-
fore in steede of my syster: so busely she trauaileth to my be-
halfe in euery place. And what can be more foly, than one to
Iyke hym selfe, and stand in his owne conceite? but than againe,
what thyng can be propre, or becommyng, or well dooen, in case
the doer of the same mislyketh him selfe in it? So that take
awaie this saulce of <1Selflikyng,>1 which is euin the verie relesse
of mans life and doynges, and by and by ye shal see the <1Oratour>1
cold in his mattier, the <1Musicien>1 mislyked with all his discant,
the <1Plaier>1 hissed out of the place, the <1Poete>1 and his muses
laught to skorne, the <1Peincter>1 and his art naught set by, the
<1Phisicien>1 for all his medicines walke an hungred, briefely, this
set asyde, he that semed beautifull <1Nireus,>1 shall appeare to be

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more vglie and misfauoured than <1Thersites,>1 in stede of fayre
<1Phaon,>1 as hore and wrincled as <1Nestor>1 was, for <1Minerua, a>1
<1sowe>1 (as the prouerbe saieth) for an eloquent speaker, the
fowlest stammerer in a countrey, and for a courtlyke fellow, the
rudest hobbe that maie be piked from the plough. So behouable
is it (loe) that euery man dooe clappe hym selfe on the backe,
and with some flattrie be commendable to hym selfe, ere he can
be commended of others.
  Finally wheras it is the greattest parte of felicitee, for a man
to desyre to bee, as he is in deede, that dooeth <1Selfloue>1 procure
you by a [D<i3>i] redier waie. For no man, how euer vile he be, will
so dispayre in hym selfe, as vtterly to mislyke either his witte,
his kynred, dwellyng place, occupacion, or countrey. As an
<1Irissheman>1 woulde not chaunge his nacion with an <1Italian,>1
nor a <1Turke>1 with an <1Athenyen,>1 nor yet a <1Tartar>1 with the
verie <1Iles of Fortune:>1 whiche so beyng, how singuler than is
natures prouidence (trow ye) in so great varietee of thynges, to
make them all yet of a lyke proporcion? as to whom she hath
been somewhat skarce in other giftes, there she putteth a little
more <1selflikyng,>1 but this I spake not verie circumspectly,
seeyng the same <1selflikyng,>1 maie woorthily be esteenaed for
the greattest gifte of all.
  Here nowe I recke not much, to passe ouer vntouched, how
no maner acte, or noble deede was euer attempted, nor any arte
or science inuented, other, than of whiche I might fully be
holden first author. For as touching warre, the verie head and
springe of all great enterprises, whiche so commenly ar praised,
and enrolled by historiens, is it not (trow ye) a foolisshe practise,
to beginne suche variaunce, as euer bothe parties receiue more
domage then profite by? (for of those that leaue theyr carkasses
in the fielde, as did the <1Megarensiens,>1 neuer counte is made)
But yet, whan armies ioigne together, and trumpettes blow vp
blouddy notes, to what stede I praie you can these good father
<1Sages>1 serue? who soked vp with longe studie, leane, and colde

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of bloudde, maie scantly draw theyr wynde? Naie than must
fatte and lustie blouddes doe the feate, hauyng boldnesse with
he most, and witte with the lest. vnles perchaunce some would
hose suche a souldiour as was <1Demosthenes,>1 who fo. [D<i3>i<sv>s] low-
ng <1Archilocus>1 the poetes rede, scarse lookynge his enemies in
he face, threw downe his shielde and ranne awaie, as cowardly
a warriour, as he was a wyse oratour.
   But <2Counsaile in warres>2 (saie they) <2is ofgreat importaunce,>2 and
as for that I sticke not muche, that counsaile in a capitaine is
requisite, so it be warlyke, and not philosophicall. For com-
menly thei that bringe any valiant feate to passe, are <2good>2
<2blouddes, venturers, compaignions, swasshes, dispatchers, bank->2
<2rowtes,>2 with suche lyke, and none of these <2Philosophers candel->2
<2wasters.>2 Who how vnmete thei be to serue for any commen
affaire, or purpose amonges men, we maie be taught by the
example of <1Socrates>1 hym selfe, the onely wiseman, but vn-
wysely iudged by <1Apollos oracle.>1 That wheras on a tyme he
went about to haue saied his minde in a certaine mattier to the
commens of <1Athenes,>1 he lefte of sodeinly, beyng all to laught
to scorne. How be it this <1Socrates,>1 as in one poinct (me semeth)
was not all wyde, in that he wolde not take vpon hym the name
of a wyseman, but rather ascribed the same vnto god onely, and
thought it best for a wyseman not to busie him selfe or medle
with matters of the commen weale, vnles perhaps he myght
haue saied more rightly, that who so woulde be taken anaonges
the noumbre of men, shoulde not medle to muche with wyse-
dome. For I pray you, what draue <1Socrates>1 vpon his araign-
ment, to drinke poyson, for the death he was condempned to,
sauyng onely that his excellent, that his goodly qualitee of
wysedome? Because, whiles whole daies together he trifled out
the tyme, in <2disputacions vpon the cloudes, vpon Idees, and by>2
<2geometrie peyned hym selfe to meate a ffies>2 [D<i4>i] <2fecte, discussyng>2
<2also how a gnatte, beyng so little a vermine, myght yelde so great>2
<2a sounde,>2 he neuer applied hym selfe to learne thynges perteign-
yng to this commen trade of lyfe. But now cometh <1Plato>1 his
disciple to defende his maister at the barre: a gaie Aduocate
(I promyse you) who beyng offended with the noyse of the

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people throungyng about hym, coulde scante make an ende of
the fyrst clause of his tale. And what saie you by <1Theophras->1
<1tus?>1 who takyng vpon hym to speake vnto a great assemblie, as
soone as he stode vppe, by and by coulde saie neuer a woorde,
<2as if he had seen a woulfe at vnwares:>2 and how shuld he than
haue encouraged souldiours to fight? Or els <1Isocrates?>1 Who
of a certaine naturall timorousnesse, durst neuer afore audience
open his lippes? <1Marcus Tullius,>1 the father of Romaine elo-
quence, euer with an vnsemely tremblyng began his oracions,
as it were a sobbyng childe, whiche <1Quintilian>1 enterpreteth <2to>2
<2be the signe of a ware and wyse Oratour, who pondred well the>2
<2waightinesse of his mattier.>2 But whan he saieth so, dooeth he not
plainely confesse, wisedome to be an obstacle against any bolde
feate? For what will suche shrimpysshe bodies dooe (trow ye)
whan it cometh to handstrokes, that are almost dead for feare,
whan they striue but with bare woordes?
  And yet after all this (on goddes name) is that woorthy sawe
of <1Plato>1 muche commended, <2how those commen weales most>2
<2happily shoulde flourishe, that were gouerned by philosophers, or>2
<2whose gouernours applied them selfes to philosophie.>2 No no, if ye
loke in histories, ye shall fynde, no rulers were euer more pesti-
lent to a commen weale, than if the same at any tyme fell into
the handes of suche one, as was geuen [D4<sv>s] to any sect of
philosophie. For proufe wherof, I alleage vnto you the two
<1Catons,>1 thone wherof, with his headie and frantike accusa-
cions, disturbed greatly the quiete of Rome citee: the other, in
goyng about ouer wysely to protecte the same, did vtterly sub-
uert it. And ioigne ye hardly to theim bothe <1Brutus>1 and
<1Cassius,>1 with the two <1Gracchi,>1 yea and <1Cicero>1 hym selfe,
for as pestilent a citesein amonges the <1Romains,>1 as <1Demo->1
<1sthenes>1 was to the <1Atheniens>1 commen weale. Lykewyse, what
trow ye by <1Marcus Aurelius? I>1 admitte he was a good
emperour, and yet coulde I wrest that praise also from hym,
because his to muche philosophership made hym odious and

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hatefull to the people. But admitte (I saie) he was good, yet
truly more pernicious was he to the commen weale, in leauyng
so vngracious an ympe, as <1Comodus>1 was, for successour in his
state, than euer he was profitable throughe his owne good
wealdyng of the same. For commenlythis kynde of men, that are
bookisshe, and geue theim selfes to suche peuisshe disciplines,
like as in other thinges, so also in childer gettyng haue very ill
lucke, as if nature of pietie (I wene) prouided that this plage,
this disease (I saie) of wisedorne, should <1not>1 sprede ouer largely
amonges men. So <1Cicero>1 had a soonne, farre vnlyke hym in con-
dicions. And <1Socrates,>1 that wise wiseman had children, <2lyker>2
<2to theyr mother than their father,>2 As one writeth merily, that is
to saie, thei were fooles.
   Now though these wysemen be as vnapte for all publike
offices and affaires, <2as an asse is to fynger an harpe,>2 yet myght
it soso be abidden, if thei were not also as vntowarde in any
priuate dutie perteignyng to [Ei] this life. For bidde ones one
of these sages to diner, and either with his silent glommyng, or
his darke and eluisshe problemes he will trouble all the bourde.
Desyre hym to take handes in a bralle, ye will saie <2a Camell>2
<2daunceth.>2 Bringe hym to a Mydsomer watche, or a stage plaie,
and euin with his verie looke he will seeme to disdeine the
peoples pastyme, so that <2wise dan Gato must befaine to auoide the>2
<2place, because he can notforbeare hisfrownyng.>2 Let hym lyght on
a knotte of good company talkyng merily, and by and by euery
wight holdes his peace. If he must bie any thyng, make a bar-
gaine, or briefely doe ought of those thynges, without whiche
this commen life can not be ledde, then sooner will ye take hym
for a blocke, than a reasonable creature. So muche lacketh (loe)

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that he may stande his countrei, or his friendes in profitable
steede, who neither is skilled in thynges daiely enured, and
muche differeth from the commen opinion, and maners of the
other people. Per consequent wherof, he must nedes deserue
theyr hatred and displeasure, through the great diuersitee of
liuynges, and disposicions atwixe theim. For and if ye list to
iudge indifferently, is there ought doen here amonges mortall
men not full of foly, bothe by fooles, and afore fooles? So that
if one onely wight woulde take vpon hym to kicke against all the
rest, him wolde I aduyse, that (as <1Timon>1 did) he shuld shrincke
into some desert, there to enioie his wysedome to hym selfe.
But to returne to my former purpose (I axe you) what maner
charme it was, that enduced those auncient stony, woodden, and
rude men in the worldes fyrste age (as poetes feigne) dispersed
so a brode, to lyue together [Ei <sv>s] in citees, but onely <1Adulacion>1
or glosyng speche? For what dooe poetes els signifie by that
<2sweetetuned harpe of Amphion>2 and <2Orpheus?>2 What thyng also
reuoked the comminaltee of <1Rome,>1 rebellyng against the
<1Senate,>1 to agreement? was it any <2Philosophicall oracion?>2 No
forsouth. What than? Euin a foolisshe <2Aesopes fable feigned of>2
<2the bealie, and the other lymmes of mans bodie.>2 Lyke as <1Themi->1
<1stocles>1 perswaded the <1Atheniens>1 by his tale of the foxe and
the hedgehogge: Coulde any wysemans oracion (trow ye) haue
enduced those wylde and <1Saluage Spaniardes>1 to suche a con-
formitee, and obedience, as did <1Sertorius>1 theyr wylie capitaine,
vnder colour of <1Religion,>1 and that deuise of his white hynde?
Or as <1Licurgus>1 allured the <1Spartanes>1 through the example
shewed theim of the two dogges? with also that other fonde
deuise of <1Sertorius>1 makynge two horse tailes to be plucked at?
I let passe <1Minos,>1 and <1Numa,>1 eache of whom with feigned
fayrie inuencions bleared the grosse multitudes eies: For ye

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must thinke that suche lyke toies as these, are the liueliest and
most pithie perswasions, that the <2myghtie madbeast the commu->2
<2naltee>2 can be moued with: Wheras hitherto was neuer citee
or commen weale, that woulde be gouerned by <2Platos or>2
<2Aristotles lawes,>2 no more than any nacion hath folowed those
glorious rules and institutes of liuyng, that <1Socrates>1 set
foorth.
   But I praie you, what prouoked bothe the <1Decians>1 willingly
to bequethe them selfes to the <1Infernall Gods?>1 And likewise
egged <1Quintus Curtius>1 to cast hym selfe into the great caue
and swalowe of the grounde, that whilom opened in the
marcatsteede of Rome, sauyng onely <1Vainglorie? Vain->1[E<i2>i]
<1glorie>1 (I saie) that moste faire, and sweete bayted Mermaide,
but (lord) how wonderously yet condemned by these sages? For
what can be a more fonde part (saie they) than ambiciously, as
in commen weales is vsed, <2A man to goe, andfaune on hym, and>2
<2hym, for their voices? or with makyng commen giftes and distri->2
<2bucions to bie the peoples fauour? hyghly magnifiyng him selfe,>2
<2whan the people crieth a larges on hym? Whan also like a pageant,>2
<2or spectacle preparedfor the peoples eies, he rides about in triumph,>2
<2crowned with lawrer? hauyng his imagefor a memorie of thefacte>2
<2sette vp in the marcatsteede, with muche curious entitlyng of his>2
<2names, surnames, bynames, and office names, besides the immortall,>2
and <2godlie honours, that are therupon decreed, to so meane and>2
<2poore a caitiue as he is, least deseruyng them, as not seldome the>2
<2veriest tirannes that euer reigned, haue natheles with publike cere->2
<2monies been cannonised into the noumbre of the gods.>2 These are
thynges as foolisshe as can be, to laugh wherat one Democritus
suffiseth not. And yet, euin of this spring of <1Vainglorie>1 come
all your woorthy conquerours actes, and famous feates, which
with the style of so many eloquent writers are extolled vp to
heauen. This verie branche of Folie buildeth citees, f
states, headrulers, religions, counsaile motes, iudgemente,
and briefely all the deedes and life of mortall men, is naught
els than a certaine great plaie of Folie.

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  Now what I haue saied hereby, aswell I maie saie by artes and
sciences. For what els hath prouoked mens wittes to seke out and
disclose to their posteriours so many goodly disciplines (as they
take theim) sauyng onely an ardent thurst of glorie? Suche is the
apetite of foolish men, with so great trauailes, watchyng, and
sweetyng [E2<sv>s] at the browes, to recouer a little, I wotte nere
what <1Fame,>1 whiche either is nothyng, or nothyng is more vaine
than it. But in the meane while, ye ought to conne me thanke, for
suche, and so many commoditees, as they haue found out to-
wardes the better state of your lyfe. And that (whiche is most
sweete of all) ye dooe peruse the fruite of other mens madnesse.
  Than sir, seyng I haue this chalenged vnto me the praise of
fortitude, and of industriousnesse, what if I claime <1Prudence>1
also? perhaps some will saie, as soone myght I goe about to
mingle fyre and water. But for all that I hope to bringe it to
passe, if as hitherto you haue dooen, ye vouchesaue me your
eares, and attentiuenesse.
  And fyrst of all, if <1Prudence>1 consisteth in longe practise and
experience of thynges, vnto whether of these maie the honour
of that name better square? Either to this wyseman, who partly
for shame, and partly for dastardnesse of herte, attempteth
nothyng, or els that foole, whom neither shame, beyng shameles,
nor perill, beyng reckeles, maie feare from prouyng any thyng.
A wyseman reportes hym selfe to his bokes, and there learneth
naught but mere triflyng distinctions of woordes. A foole in
ieopardyng, and goyng presently where thynges are to be
knowne, gathereth (vnles I am deceiued) the perfect true pru-
dence. Whiche <1Homer>1 seemeth, notwithstandyng his blind-
nesse, to haue seen, whan he saied thus, <2A foole knoweth the>2
<2thyng, that is ones dooen.>2 For there be two stronge lettes against-
suche knowlage of thynges to be gathered, that is to saie, shame
and dreade: shame, that castes a mist before mens myndes:.
and dreade, that, shewyng the peril-[E<i3>i]les, discounsaileth men

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from ventryng any enterprises. But I Folie maie, and am wonte
to wype those lettes cleane awaie. Yea, few men consider, how
many ways els it auaileth to blousshe at nothyng, and dare dooe
euery thyng.
   But now (loe) and if ye take prudence after the rate, as whan
it resteth in iudgement and discourse of thynges, herken ye
(I praie you) howe farre they are wyde therof, who dooe make it
their chiefest profession. For fyrst it is not vnknowen, how all
humaine thynges lyke the <2Silenes or duble images of Alcibiades,>2
haue two faces muche vnlyke and dissemblable, that what out-
wardly seemed death, yet lokyng within ye shulde fynde it lyfe:
and on the other side what semed life, to be death: what fayre,
to be foule: what riche, beggerly: what cunnyng, rude: what
stronge, feable: what noble, vile: what gladsome, sadde: what
happie, vnlucky: what friendly, vnfriendly: what healthsome,
noysome. Briefely the Silene ones beyng vndone and disclosed,
ye shall fynde all thynges tourned into a new semblance. If these
woordes to some seme spoken to clerkly, goe to, I will expounde
theim more plainely. I praie you, who is he that confessith not
a prince to be bothe riche, and a great lorde? but set case he
hath no good qualitees of the mynde, nor with all those gooddes
he hath, can be satisfied: now is he not riche, but poorer than
the poorest. Than againe admit he be geuin to sundrie vices:
now is he no lorde, but more subiecte than a seruaunt: and after
this rate maie ye skanne also the others. But this is enough for
exemple. Now it maie be, ye muse what I meane hereby, but
geue me leaue yet a little further. If one at [E<i3>i<sv>s] a solemne stage
plaie, woulde take vpon hym to plucke of the plaiers garmentes,
whiles they were saiyng theyr partes, and so disciphre vnto the
lokers on, the true and natiue faces of eche of the plaiers, shoulde
he not (trow ye) marre all the mattier? and well deserue for a
madman to be peltid out of the place with stones? ye shoulde
see yet straightwaies a new transmutacion in thynges: that who
before plaied the woman, shoulde than appeare to be a man:
who seemed youth, should shew his hore heares: who countre-
faited the kynge, shulde tourne to a rascall, and who plaied god

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almightie, shulde become a cobler as he was before. Yet take
awaie this errour, and as soone take awaie all togethers, in as
muche as the feignyng and counterfaityng is it, that so delighteth
the beholders. So likewise, all this life of mortall men, what is
it els, but a certaine kynde of stage plaie? wheras men come
foorthe disguised one in one arraie, an other in an other, eche
plaiyng his parte, till at last the maker of the plaie, or boke-
bearer causeth theim to auoyde the skaffolde, and yet sometyme
maketh one man come in, two or three tymes, with sundrie
partes and apparaile, as who before represented a kynge, beyng
clothed all in purpre, hauyng no more but shyfted hym selfe a
little, shoulde shew hym selfe againe lyke an woobegon myser.
And all this is dooen vnder a certaine veile or shadow, whiche
taken awaie ones, the plaie can no more be plaied.
Here nowe if one of these wisemen, come (I wene) from
heauen, did sodeinly appeare, and saie, <2howe euin this great>2
<2prince, whom all men honor as their god and soueraigne, deserueth>2
<2skarce to be called man, seyng like the brute beastes, he>2 [E<i4>i] <2is>2
<2trained by affections, and is none other than a seruaunt of the>2
<2basest sort, seyng willyngly he obeith so many, and so vile vices his>2
<2maisters. Or than againe, woulde bidde some other, who mourned>2
<2for his fathers or friendes decease, rather to laughe, and be merie,>2
<2because suche diyng to this worlde is the beginnyng of a better life,>2
<2wheras this here, is but a maner death as it were. Furthermore,>2
<2wolde call an other gloriyng in his armes and auncestrie, bothe a>2
<2villaine, and a bastarde, because he is so many discentes disalied>2
<2from vertue, whiche is the onely roote of true nobilitee.>2 And in suche
lyke sorte woulde raile vpon all the rest. I praie you, what shulde
he preuaile therby, but make men take him for frantike and dis-
traught? For surely as nothing can be more foolisshe than wise-
dome out of place, so is nothyng more fonde than prudence out
of season. And dooeth he not out of season (trow ye) that plieth
not him selfe as the world goeth? nor will not take the market as
it ryseth? nor at least remembre the law of quassyng, <2Other>2

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<2drinke thy drinke, or rise, and goe thy waie?>2 On the other side,
it is a verie wysemans part to coueite to know nothyng beyond
his bandes, and either as the whole multitude of other men dooe,
to dissemble gladly, or to erre, and be deceiued with the most.
But euin this is Foly (saie thei). And in good faieth I will not
muche denie it, vpon condicion againe they graunt me, that to
dissernble, or erre so, is the right plaiyng of the pageantes of
this life.
   But(Lorde) a thing now is come to my remembrance, shall
I speake it, or kepe it in? and why shulde I kepe it in, syns it is
truer than trueth it selfe? but it is best for me in so waightie a
mattier as it is, to praie the <1Muses>1 in myne ayde, whom poetes
call vppon oftenti-[E<i4>i<sv>s]mes for the veriest trifles they write.
Come ye hither therfore a little ye <2Ioues daughters,>2 whiles I proue
that no man can attaine vnto that excellent <1Sapience,>1 the verie
castell (as they name it) of felicitee, vnles I Folie be theyr guide
and leader.
   Inprimis, I take it for all readie granted, that all the affec-
tions of man, pertaine vnto Folie. In as muche as philosophers
put this distinction betwene a wyseman, and a foole, that <2the>2
<2one is ledde by reason, the other by sensualitee,>2 and therfore dooe
the Stoikes seclude all affections from a wyseman, as so many
diseases of the mynde. But that notwithstandyng, these affec-
tions are not onely sette in steede of pilottes to suche as woulde
recouer the porte of wysedome, but also in any acte of vertue,
are lyke certaine prickes, or incitacions prouokyng a man to
dooe well. How euer in this poinct the <1Archestoike Seneca>1
strongly againsaieth me, who in no wyse will a wyseman shoulde
haue any maner affection in hym. But whan he taketh that away,
he leaueth man, no man, but rather a newfounde god without
bodily sence, such as neuer was, nor neuer shall be. Yea, to
speake plainlier, he dooeth naught els than fourme a stone image
of a man, without fealyng, or any maner inclinacion perteinyng
to a man in deede. Let the <1Stoikes>1 therfore (if they list) take

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theyr wyseman to theim selfes, and make muche on hyrn alone,
or (if they thynke good) go and dwell with hym in <1Platos citee,>1
or in the lande of <1Fairie,>1 or <1Vtopia.>1 For whiche of you woulde
not lothe, and blisse you from the company of suche maner a
man, <2as were mortified, and benummed in all those sensis and>2
<2vnderstandynges, that naturally other men are ledde by ? that>2
[Fi] <2had no anections reignyng in him? nor woulde no more bee>2
<2sterred with loue, or compassion, than if he were aflint stone? that>2
in <2nothyng could ouershoote him selfe, but rather lyke Argus, see>2
<2and cast all thynges to the vttermost? Forgeue no man? be onely>2
<2pleased with hym selfe? esteeme him selfe onely to be riche? onely>2
<2to be a kynge? onely to be a freeman? briefly, onely all thynges,>2
<2but in his owne conceite onely? that cared for no friendes? friende>2
<2him selfe to no man? Wolde not sticke to defie the Gods? and what>2
<2so euer is dooen of other men in this present life, to laugh at it and>2
<2dispise it, as a verie madnesse?>2 Yet suche a maner quaynt beaste
is this complete wyseman of theirs. I praie you, if the choice
went by voyces, what citee woulde haue suche a gouernour?
What armie suche a capitaine? naie what woman wolde desire
suche an husbande? or who woulde bydde suche a gest to his
house? or what seruaunt pike hym out, or continue with a
maister of so monstruous condicions? On the other syde, who
woulde not sooner preferre any one chosen euin amonges the
thickest of the people? who beyng a foole, could aptly either
gouerne, or obey fooles, please the myndes of suche as be lyke
vnto hym, whiche is the moste parte, be treatable to his wyfe,
gladly seen of his friendes, mearie in companie, and lastly
woulde thinke nothyng vnbecomyng hym, that other men vse
commenly to dooe. But I wene, ye be werie now of this theyr
wyseman, as I, for my part, was a good whyle agoe. Let vs passe
therfore ouer to some other mattier.
  Admitte than, some one, (as the <1Poetes>1 feigne by <1Iupiter)>1
shulde out of an high high place behold and see in how many
miseries mans life is wrapped, how wretched and vile his byrthe

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is, [Fi <sv>s] how harde his bringyng vp, how weake and pewlyng
his childhode, how trauailsome his youthe, how heauy his age,
and last how feareful his death were. Further, duryng all his
lyfe, what bandes of sickenesses doe assaile hym, what narow
chaunces hange ouer his head, what displeasures come vpon
hym, how in all thynges he fyndeth more galle than hony,
besydes the iniuries whiche one of you scourgeth an other
withall, as pouertee, enprisonment, worldely shame, rebukyng,
rackyng, gyle, treason, sklaunder, discencion, disceite (but now
<2I goe about to tell the grauell of the sea)>2 that for what offences
men deserued suche miseries, or what god beyng theyr heauie
lorde, condemned theim to leade theyr lyues so pestred and
plonged in the same, ye shall perdon me, from expressing, as not
leeful for me at this present to vtter vnto you. But who so shoulde
(I saie) consider all these thynges accordyngly, myght it not
moue hym to approue the example, and deede of the virgins of
<1Milesia,>1 be it neuer so piteous to reherse? For ye shall vnder-
stande, that willyngly, vppon no apparent cause why, they all
hunge theim selues. But seeyng we chaunce to speake of volun-
tarie death, I axe you, who were those, that for tediousnesse of
this life, did rathest preuent death with theyr owne handes?
Were thei not suche as bordred nearest vpon wisedome?
anaonges whom (to let passe <1Dioffenes, Xenocrates, Cato,>1
<1Cassius, Brutus,>1 and suche lyke) <1Chiron,>1 the wyse <1Centaure,>1
hauyng graunt of the goddes, to liue euer (so lykyng hym) in
theyr state of immortalitee, woulde none of it, but chose rather
to die. Ye maie see therfore what inconuenience shulde ensue, if
men were com-[F<i2>i]menly wise. So that we had nede of a new
<1Prometheus,>1 a new mowld, and a new earth, to make men of,
vnles I partly through ignorance, partly through vnreckeful-
nesse, not seeldome through obliuion of peines passed, sometyme
through hope of better fortune, yea and now and than sauouryng
theyr bittred taste with a little hony of pleasure, did not in so
manyfolde euilles releue and succour theim. In sort, that lothe

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they are to die yet, though the fatall spyndell of theyr lyfe beyng
ronne out and expyred, <1Charons>1 bote hath more than quarter
ebbe taried for their passage hence. So that how lesse cause they
haue, why they shoulde lyue, yet so muche leefer is life vnto
theim, not that they fele any combraunce of the same.
  For it procedeth of my goodnesse (I warrant you) that com-
menly ye see olde men, of so hore and tremblyng age, as scant
the figure of a man remaineth vnto theim, beyng <2bothefumblers,>2
<2dotardes, totheles, griselles, bald>2 (or rather to descriue them by
<1Aristophanes>1 termes) <2Nastie, crokebackt, wrincled, totheshaken,>2
<2and lame of their best limme (whiche for womanhode I name not)>2
so desyrous yet of life, and so coltishe, as some one of theim will
die his white heares, and shaue hym selfe twise a daie: an other
will decke his bald crowne with a peruke: an other sette new
tethe in his head, taken perhaps out of some hogges chappes:
an other fall in loue with some yonge pygesnie, vsyng more fond-
nesse in suche kynde of daliaunce than any youngman wold.
For as touchyng suche <1Deathes dettours,>1 and veraie <1Graue->1
<1porers,>1 as euin at theyr last cast wedde younge wenches
vndowed, but meter to serue other mens turnes than theyrs,
that is a thyng so commenly had in [F<i2>i<sv>s] vse, as in a maner now
it is arrected for a great praise and charitable kyndnesse vnto
theim.
  But this is nothyng, in comparison of the pleasant spectacle,
whiche ye maie haue at many of these oldwomen, who beyng
neuer so muche palled with longe age, yea and so carcaslyke,
as if they had lately come from deathes Court, will euer yet haue
this prouerbe in their mouthes <2(life is life)>2 still plaie the wantons,
and still be tuppyng. Or at lest hyre some younge <1Phaon>1 for
mede to dooe the thyng, still daube theyr lither chekes with
peintyng, neuer goe from the glasse, shew out theyr flaggie and
pendant dugges, prouoke theyr stale nature with hote restori-
tiues, sitte vp at bankettes, daunce galierdes, write loueletters,
etc. These thynges are mocked commenly, for the greattest

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folies (without question) that maie be. But yet dooe these my
oldgurles not a little lyke theim selues herein, takyng it for a
singuler and onely delight, as if they swamme vp to the chinnes
in a sea of hony, wherin who but I doeth vphold them? and yet
these deinty wisemen for all theyr scornefulnes, I woulde they
shoulde no more but perpend thus with them selues, whither
it be better through suche folie to lede a sugred life, or elles
standyng euer vppon narow poynctes of wysedome, to seke
(as a man woulde saie) an halter to hange withall?
   For how so euer suche foolisshe pranckes are thought to
rede an euill name, I praie you, what mattier is that to my
fooles, who eyther feele not what the inconuenience of an ill
report meaneth, or if thei fele it, can so little set by it, and easely
passe it ouer? If a Mylstone fall vpon thy head, that is an euill
in deede: but as for shame, reproche, losse [F3] of reputacion,
or euill speche, these maie do the as muche hurt as thou felist
theim: that and if thou felist theim not, than are they no euils
at all. <2For what hurteth the, the peoples hissing, as longe as thou>2
<2clappest thy selfe on the backe?>2 yet who hath the grace to do so,
vnlesse I Folie do arme him therto?
   But now (me thinkes) I haue the <1philosophers>1 ones more
in my toppe. For that is (saie they) <2euin the greattest miserie of>2
<2all, to be blinded so with Folie, to erre so, to be deceiued so, to be>2
<2ignorant so.>2 Naie verilier, that is it to be a man. And yet I see not
why thei shuld call you miserable therfore, in as muche as ye
be borne so, ye be ordeigned so, and made so, and such is the
commen destiney lotted to euery of you. For nothyng maie
proprely be called miserable, that agreeth with the kind it
cometh of, vnles perchaunce some woulde thynke a mans nature
were to be lamented, because he can not flie as burdes dooe,
nor goe on all foure as other beastes dooe, nor fence hym with
his hornes as bulles doe. But than by lyke argument, why call
they not a faire horse miserable: because he neuer learned
grammer? or eateth no rostmeate? or els a bulle vnhappie,

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   because he is not shapen to throw the barre? Ergo, as an horse,
   who can not his grammer, is not wretched, no more a man for
   his Folie is myserable, because it agreeth so aptly with his
   nature.
 s But ones againe these eluishe <1Sophistrers>1 heaue at me.
   <2The knowlage>2 (saie they) <2of disciplines is peculierly geuin to man,>2
   <2throughe helpe wherof, what he lacketh by nature, he maie supplie>2
   <2with his witte and learnyng.>2 <1A>1 gaie mattier, as who saieth nature,
   which in gnattes, yea and in herbes, and trees, hath so diligently
1o dooen hir parte, in man onely shoulde haue shewed [F<i3>i<sv>s] hir
   selfe defectiue, and a niggard, where through he neded to make
   recourse for ayde vnto disciplines. Whiche disciplines <1Theutus>1
   that dismall sprite, who neuer willed good to mankynde, did
   fyrst fynde out, for your vtter destruction, so little auailyng
1s towardes felicitee, as rather thei dooe hynder you from it, for
   whiche purpose they were chiefely ordeined, as <1Plato>1 verie
   elegantly induceth that wyse Aegyptien kynge to argue, dis-
   putyng vpon the fyrst inuencion of writyng. So therfore, sciences
   came in fyrst, with the residue of the plages of mans lyfe, and
20 founde out by the verie same authours, who lykewise are
   authours of all mischiefe, that is to saie, by diuelles: wherupon
   also they haue their name grounded: for <1Daemon,>1 signifieth
   cunnyng, or a knower. But the good simple people of the olde
   <2golden worlde,>2 without any disciplines at all, liued onely as
2s <1Nature>1 taught, and instincted theim. For what neded thei any
   <1grammer,>1 whan all the world vsed but one speche? whiche
   made also to none other purpose, saue that one myght vnder-
   stande an other? Or wherto serued <1Logike,>1 whan no contro-
   uersie of woordes myght make a double meanyng? Or, what
ao place had <1Rhetorike,>1 whan none contended with others? Or to
   what effect stode <1Law,>1 seeyng as yet euill maners reigned not,
   wherupon good lawes (no doubt) were fyrst grounded? Further,
   they were more religious, and godly, than with an vngodly
   curiositee to ensearche the secretes of <1Nature,>1 the quantitee of

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the sterres, theyr courses, or influences, or the hydden causes of
thynges, supposyng it against goddes forbode, that they beyng
   ortall and erthly men, shoulde struggle to [F4] know beyonde
heyr degrees. Muche lesse that euer any suche madnesse came
n theyr braines, as ones to thynke vpon the inquirey of thynges
et aboue the sterres. But whan by little and little the purenesse
of the golden age decaied, than were sciences inuented (as I
saied) by wicked sprites, but right fewe as yet, and practised by
as few. Than afterwardes, the supersticion of the <1Chaldees,>1 and
dle newfanglednesse of the <1Grekes>1 added (I wene) more than
ix hundred others, beyng mere vexacions of mens braines, in
o muche as <1Grammer>1 alone, is hable to kepe a man taske
whiles he liueth.
   And yet (loe) euin amonges suche sciences, those we see had
in most price, that draw nearest to the commen sence and capa-
citee of all men (that is to saie) to Folie. For as for <1Diuines,>1
hey maie well enough walke an hungred: <1Mathematicall>1
professours blowe theyr nayles: <1Astronomers>1 are laught to
scorne: <1Sophistrers>1 are naught set by: Onely a <1Phisicion>1 (as
Homer saieth) <2is more woorth than twentie of the rest.>2 Yea and
commenly the rassher, the vncunnynger, and lesse circumspect
the vndertaker of any of those vsuall sciences is, the more yet is
he regarded and allowed euin amonges great men also. Lyke as
<1Phisike,>1 accordyng as many now a daies dooe wrest it, is
naught els than a membre of <1Adulacion,>1 as well as <1Rhetorike:>1
Next place wherunto is geuin to <1Ciuilians>1 and <1Lawiers:>1 but
I am in doubt, whether it be the seconde, or the fyrst, by the
rules and estatutes of the vniuersitee: of whose profession as
I will saie nothyng, so other men are wont with one consent to
haue it in derision, as a certaine kynde of <1Asselyke philo->1
<1sophie:>1 but yet these [F4v] <1Asseheades>1 be they, that rule all
the rost, and enlarge their possessions, wheras a <1Diuine>1 in the
meane while lookyng ouer all his bookes of diuinitee, can hardly
pyke hym out a radisshe roote for his diner, doyng battaile con-
tinually with gnattes and lyse.

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  And therfore lyke as sciences are the more happie, and auail-
able, the nearer affinitee they haue with Folie: So are those men
most happie, who altogethers maie abstaine from medlyng with
any sciences, and folow <1Nature>1 onely for theyr guide and mais-
tres, who in no parte of hir is lame, or insufficient, as longe as
it suffiseth vs to kepe our selues within hir bandes. For Nature
abhorreth counterfeityng, and farre more towardly doeth it
flourisshe, that with least arte and cure is tended to. For see you
not how amonges brute beastes, and burdes also, those lyue
most wealthily, that haue least to dooe with disciplines? nor are
subiect to any others gouernment, sauyng <1Natures?>1 The verie
Bees (trow ye) how happy and merueilous is theyr propretee?
and yet (pardie) they haue not all theyr senses. What house-
wright by <1Geometrie>1 founde euer out suche maner buildyng,
as theyr commes are of? What <1Philosopher>1 did euer fourme
suche a commen weale as theyrs is? Contrary, an horse because
he draweth nerest to mans sense, and is conuersant amonges
men, is therfore pertaker also of suche miseries as men are
subiecte to. As who not seeldome, whiles he is ashamed to be
ouer ronne for the belle, dooeth tyre hym selfe, and in battaile
whiles he seketh victorie, dooeth oftentymes draw his guttes
after hym. Besydes the snafles and bittes, he is broken with, the
spurres he is gyrded with, [Gi] the stables enprisonment he is
hampred with, the whippes he is lasshed with, the cogilles he is
iasted with, the halters he is tyed with, the ryders he is laden
with, and briefly, all that tragedie of his bondage, whiche
willingly in a maner he toke vpon him (if we geue credite to
Aesopes fables) whiles (as these valiaunt men dooe) his desyre
was to be wroken on the hart his enemie. Now how muche leefer
is the life of these prettie small burdes? who onely as Nature

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pricketh theim, lyue from hande to mouthe, in depe quietnesse,
as long as men will let theim alone? That and if they fortune to
e taken, and made to syng in a cage, yet (lord) how muche
hey want than of theyr natiue grace, and propernesse? <2Sofarre>2
<2ore liuely ye shallfynde it, that rather nature induceth, than that>2
<2arte constreigneth.>2
   I can neuer therfore fully commende <1Pythagoras,>1 who whan
vnder diuerse bodies and likenesses he had ben all thinges, <2a>2
<2Philosopher, a man, a woman, a kynge, a priuate person, a fishe,>2
n <2horse, afrogge, yea>2 (I wene) <2a sponge also,>2 iudged yet no kynde
of creature more miserable than man, because all the reste were
content to liue as Nature had limitted theim. Onely man woulde
preasse to passe his bandes. Yea and therfore amonges men,
he preferred also the <1Ideote,>1 and simple vulgars, before other
learned and reputed persons. So <1Grillus>1 (I thynke) was better
aduised, than <1Vlisses,>1 for all his deepe witte, in <2that he had>2
<2rather grunt still in the stie, beyng chaunged into a hogge through>2
<2Circes sorceries, than waifaryng with hym, to suffre so many>2
<2wretched, and greeuous chaunces.>2 In whiche poinct I take it, that
<2Homer also the father of fables,>2 dooeth consent with me: that
where in many [Giv] places he calleth all mortall men bothe
<2wofull and wretched,>2 and than againe speakyng of <1Vlisses,>1 the
exemple (as he makes hym) of a perfite wyseman, geueth hym
the addicion of <1sighyng,>1 or <1pensiue,>1 whiche in no place ye
fynde attributed to <1Paris,>1 or <1Aiax,>1 or <1Achilles.>1 But wherfore
trow ye dooeth he so? Saue for that <1Vlisses>1 beyng double, and
craftie, vsed <1Pallas>1 aduyse in all his procedynges, and was
ouerwyse, as he that toke the fardest drifte he myght from
<1Natures>1 course.
   Wherfore lyke as amonges mortall men they are fardest re-
moued from blisfulnesse, that geue theim selues to the studie of
wysedome, yea, twyse foolishe in this, that beyng borne men,
they woulde possiblie if they could, vsurpe the state of the
immortall <1Gods,>1 and (as poetes feigne the <1Geantes>1 did) <2with>2

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<2theyr engins of sciences moue warre against Nature,>2 So thei <1on>1 the
other syde seeme least miserable, and wretched, who drawe
nearest to the bluntnesse of brute beastes, and attempte nothyng
beyonde mans degree. For proufe wherof I will not blinde you
with these <1Stoikes Syllogismes,>1 but rather induce you by
some familiar exemple. And by the faieth ye owe to the immor-
tall goddes, maie any thyng to an indifferent considrer be
deemed more happie, and blisfull, than is this kynde of men,
whom commenly ye call <2fooles, doltes, ideotes, and paches?>2 by
most fayre and goodly names as I take theim? peraduenture I
moue a thyng without purpose, and verie fonde at the fyrst
syght, but ere I haue dooen, ye will graunt I haue cause to saie it.
   Seeyng fyrst suche ideotes are free, and exempt from all feare
of death, whiche feare is no small corrosiue, to a mind that
min-[G<i2>i]deth it I warrant you. Lyke as they fele not what
a twitching turment it is, to haue a grudged conscience, and
shrinke as little at these oldwiues tales of sprites, of diuelles, of
hobgoblyne and the fayries, neither mournyng to theim selues
for feare of euilles and aduersitees impendyng, nor braggyng
ouermuche vpon hope of any good lucke commyng. To be
briefe, they are not tawed, nor pluckt a sunder with a thousande
thousand cares, wherwith other rnen are oppressed. Thei
blushe at nothyng, they doubt nothyng, they coueite no dignitee,
they enuie no mans fortune, they loue not peramours: and lastly
if they be veraie brute <1Naturalles,>1 now they sinne not, as
doctours doe affirme. Here, I woulde my <2Maisters of sapience,>2
naie rather <2Maisterfooles,>2 shoulde repute with theim selues, how
on all sydes theyr myndes are vexed continually. Yea lette theim
but gather to accompt, to what a noumbre of discommoditees,
inconueniences, and difficulties the state of theyr lyfe is en-
debted, and so they shall soone summe vp, from howe many, and
howe great euilles I haue subtraied these my selie paches. Who
not onely them selues are euer mery, plaiyng, singyng, and
laughyng: but also what euer they dooe, are prouokers of others

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lykewyse to pleasure, sport, and laughter, as who saieth, ordeined
herefore by the goddes of theyr beneuolence, to recreate the
adnesse of mens lyues. That wheras diuerse amonges them
elues are diuersly enclined, yet dooe all men generally with one
assent owe fauour to these poore fooles, coueit them, fede them,
stroke them, embrace them, yea so muche lacketh that any wight
of reason will do them any great iniurie, as [G<i2>i<sv>s] the verie wild-
beastes (experience teacheth) haue been seen to spare and for-
beare from hurtyng of theim, thorough a certaine naturall sense
of theyr innocencie. For suche Naturals are holy, and consecrate
vnto the goddes, specially to me: and not without cause ther-
fore dooe folke so esteme theim.
  Lyke as many great lordes there be, who set so muche by
theim, as scant they can eate theyr meate, or byde a minute
without theim, cherisshyng them (by iysse) a little better, than
thei are wont to dooe these <2frounyng philosophers.>2 A few of
whiche sort also for honours sake, and furniture of theyr courte,
they vouchesaue to enterteine. But why they vse to make more
of the other, I thynke it soone gessed, and ought not to be
meruailed at. For these waiwarde wysemen neuer come foorth
but with admonicions, and boke lessons, yea and throughe con-
fidence of theyr learnyng, are not sometyme ashamed to saie the
trouth: wheras my fooles supplie a farre more gracious and
acceptable office, to delite men with theyr plaiyng, daliyng,
fonde talke, and deuises. Yea and aboue allthis, haue a meruailous
propretee, in that they onely are plainsaiers, and southspeakers.
And what is more laudable (at least as outwardely ye commende
it) than plainesse of speche? For although <1Alcibiades>1 prouerbe
in <2Plato ascribeth trouth to children and dronkennes,>2 yet maie all
the praise therof be chiefly appended to me, as <1Euripides>1 can
well testifie, who wrote thus: <2A foole speaketh like a foole>2 (<1id>1
<1est) plainely.>1 For what soeuer he hath in his thought, that
sheweth he also in his countinaunce, and expresseth it in his
talke. Wheras these wisemen are thei, that ar <2double tounged,>2

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[G3] as the aforesaied <1Euripides>1 telleth vs, with the one of
whiche they speake the trueth, with the other, thynges mete for
the tyme and audience. Theyr propretee it is to chaunge blacke
into white, and out of one mouthe to blow bothe hote and colde:
s and thynke vnhappeliest in theirhertes,whan they speake smothe-
liest with their tounges. How be it me seemeth that princes,
how euer the haboundant felicitee of theyr estate is wont to
dase meane folkes eies, maie yet as to this respecte be counted
right miserable, because they want, of whom to here the trouthe,
and are faine therefore to take flattrers for their friendes.
   But some will saie, trouth maie not at all tymes be spoken, and
therfore are these wysemen so eschewed, because without re-
specte they speake frankly. Now so it is in deede, trueth (for
the most part) is hatefull to princes. And yet we see, that of
fooles oftetymes, not onely true tales, but euin open rebukes are
with pleasure declared. That what woorde comyng out of a wise-
mans mouthe were an hangyng mattier, the same yet spoken
by a foole shall muche delight euin hym that is touched ther-
with. Suche a liuely grace to content men hath veritee, as longe
as it be mixed with naught els that maie offende. But without
offence to dooe the same the goddes haue graunted to fooles
onely.
   And so in a maner vppon lyke causes, haue women lyke
pleasure in theim, in as muche as naturally the <1Feminine Sexe>1
is bended all to pleasure, and trifles. That what so euer they do
with these fooles, although sometyme (maie chaunce) it be past
sporte, yet haue they the caste to expounde it to be nothyng
but a plaiyng toy, or a thing to make daliance, [G3v] as euer
women be redie witted to tourne and excuse the mattier.
But now to retourne to my purpose, my <1Ideotes>1 hauyng thus
ledde foorth theyr tyme, in muche triumphe, and solace, at last
without any feare or sense of death, dooe passe hence the right
waie to paradise, there also to disporte theyr quiet and innocent
soules in continuall plaie.
Now goe to if ye list, and conferre any wyseman of theym all,

with these my symple, and least regarded fooles, as touchyng
theyr state of blisfulnesse. Or rather let vs draw on the other
side, for a comparison betwixe theim, the extract of a man of
wisedome,For exemples sake, a caitiue (so I maie call hym) that-
hath worne out all his childhode, and youthfull yeres in learnyng
of disciplines, hauyng lost so the swetest part of his life in con-
tinuall watches, cares, and trauailes, nor in all the residew that
euer tasted one dramme of pleasure, beyng euer niggardly, euer
poore, melancholike, and frounyng: as harde and wrongfull to
hym selfe, as insupportable and odious to others, pale, meigre,
sikely, and blereyed, wasted awaie with elde, and horenes,
whiche his owne wilfull studie auaunced to him before his tyme:
yea and before his tyme postyng (as it were) out of life, although
it skilleth not how soone he dieth, who neuer yet liued. And this
(loe) is that goodly image of theyr wyseman.
     Put ones againe these <1Philosophers,>1 or verelier <1(Stoike>1
<1frogges dooe crocke at me),>1 <2For nothyng (saie thei) is more>2
<2miserable than madnesse.: but a notable folie is nexte sybbe vnto>2
<2madnesse, or rather madnesse it selfec. For what is madnesse els,>2
<2sauyng a generall errour and abusion of the mynde?>2 Tusshe,
tusshe, these calues are euer in a wronge boxe: [G4] but let vs
proue yet, by the <1Muses>1 leaue, how we can refelle this Syllo-
gisme of theyrs, whiche (in deede) thei haue subtilly knit to-
gethers, but as in <1Plato, Socrates>1 teacheth vs, <2to deuide one>2
<2venus into two, and one Cupide, into two Cupides:>2 So lykewise
these Logiciens, if they had dooen right, shulde haue deuided
or distingued one kinde of madnesse from an other. In as muche
as euery madnesse, is not straight therfore miserable. For than
Horace wolde not haue saied, <2Is it not a swete, an>2
<2madnesse that deceiueth me? Nor Plato likewyse woulde haue put>2
<2the rauyng of poetes, prophetes, and louers, amonges the principall>2
<2weales, and benefites of this life. Nor yet the Prophetesse in Virgile>2
<2woulde haue called the longe wandryng,>2 and <2peregrinacion of>2
<2Aeneas, a madde labour.>2

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  But ye must vnderstande, that there be two kyndes of mad-
nesse. One is that rage, whiche the <1Furies>1 of hell, beyng
punisshers of the wicked, doe bringe with them, as often as thei
graffe, and fasten in the mindes of mortall men, either feruente
desyre of an vniust reuengement, or vnsaciate couetousnesse of
golde, or cursed and vnleefull loue, or parentslaughter, or trea-
son, with suche other plages sent by the iust iudgement of the
gods, for the punisshyng of misdooers. Or whan those <1Furies>1
do trouble, and vexe the giltie conscience of a man, with the
pricke of dredefull furiousnesse. But there is an other kynde of
madnesse, farre vnlike the former, whiche procedeth from me
wholy, and most is to be embraced. As often as a certaine
pleasant rauing, or errour of the mynde, deliuereth the herte of
that man, whom it possesseth, from all wonted carefulnesse,
and rendreth it dyuers waies, muche recreated with new de-
[G<i4>i<sv>s]lectacion. Now this saied <1Errour>1 of the mynde, as a spe-
ciall iewel, and benefite of the goddes, was wisshed after, euin
of <2Gicero hym selfe,>2 in a certaine epistle he wrote to <1Atticus,>1
<2to the ende he might haue no sense, nor vnderstandyng of so great>2
<2euils, as at those daies oppressed his countrey.>2 Lykewyse <1Argiuus,>1
he whom <1Horace>1 writeth of, iudged not muche amysse. Who
this farfoorth raued, that whole daies togethers he woulde sitte
alone in the <1Theatre>1 (a place where the commen plaies were
plaied) laughyng, and clappyng his handes, and reioysyng muche
to hym selfe, because hym seemed verily that some excellent
<1Tragedies>1 were in plaiyng there, wheras in deede he sawe
nothyng at all. Whan yet for all that as to other respectes, he
behaued hym selfe wysely enough, beyng welbeloued of his
friendes, gentill to his wyfe, and easie to his seruantes, without
fallyng in any rage with theim, whan he founde a backe faulset
set in his wyne vessell. Now whan his kinsfolkes procure-
ment, geuyng hym medecines therfore, had healed his disease,
and restored hym to his former wittes, marke ye, how he fell
out with theim, in blamyng their thanklesse and double dili-
gence. <2Ye haue slaine, and not saued me, #o my friendes (quod>2
<2he) in wrestyng my pleasure from me in this sort, and by force>2

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<2bereuyng me suche a most delectable errour of my mynde.>2 And well
mought thou saie it (good <1Argiue).>1 For it was thei that raued,
and had more nede than thou of <1Elleborus>1 to purge theim, who
toke in hand to driue and expell out of the, so pleasaunt, and
happie a madnesse, in stede of a great disease, as thei toke it.
   How be it, I am in doubte yet, whether euery <1Errour>1 of the
mynde and senses, [Hi] deserueth to bee called madnesse. For
if one that is sandblynde woulde take an asse, for a moyle, or an
other praise a rime of Robyn hode, for as excellent a makyng, as
Troilus of Chaucer, yet shoulde they not straightwaies be
counted madde therfore. But he that not onely erreth in his
senses, but is deceiued also in iudgement of the mynde, and that
extraordinarely, and of custome, he (I saie) maie well be holden
madde, and out of his right mynde. As if some man so often as
he heard an asse rore, did perswade hym selfe, he heard mer-
uailous chauntyng of the <1Chapell:>1 or a poore caitiue borne
of beggers, beleued he were <1Cresus>1 the rich kynge of <1Lidia.>1
And yet, euin this platte kynde of madnesse, so it tende (as
for the most part it dooeth) vnto pleasure, than bringeth it no
small delectacion, as well to theim that are deteined therwith,
as those also that perceiue it to be in others, hauyng theim
selues no espece therof. For this maner madnesse is largelier
sprede abrode, than most folke wene it is. But in the meane
while one madde man mocketh an other, and not seeldome you
shall see the more madman, the lowdelier laugh the lesse to
scorne. Yet for all that, so muche is eche of theim the more
happie, the more dyuers waies he is deceiued, so in his owne
foolisshe iudgement, as long as he continueth still in that kind
of madnesse, that is peculier to me, whiche surely is so largely
deuided, as I doubt whether of the whole multitude of mortall
men, ye can pyke me out one onely, who at all tymes maie auant
him selfe to do wisely, and not to be grudged with some spece
of madnesse. Albeit this is the difference, that who so seeth
a Goorde, and beleueth it is [Hi<sv>s] a woman, hym doe men
geue the name of a madde man, because few are accustomed

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to erre so outtakyngly. But whan we see an husbande take his
wyfe, in whom he hath many <1Coparteners,>1 to be chaster yet
than euer was <1Penelope,>1 muche reioysyng in his good happe,
but right happely mistakyng the mattier, hym nowe dooeth no
man call madde, because that maried men are commenly dis
posed to suche diseases.
Muche after whiche rate do such folkes also raue pleasantly,
as preferre huntyng before all other pastimes, protesting what
an incredible pleasure thei conceiue, so often as thei here that
foule musike, which a horne maketh, beyng touted in, or the
howlyng of a meny of dogges. Yea I thynke the verie stenche of
the houndes kennell, senteth muske vnto theyr noses. For as
touchyng the death of a deare, or other wilde beast, ye know
your selues, what ceremonies they vse about the same. Euery
poore man maie cutte out an oxe, or a shepe, wheras suche venai-
son maie not be dismembred but of a gentilman: who bare-
headded, and set on knees, with a knife prepared proprely to
that vse, (for euery kynde of knife is not allowable) also with
certaine iestures, cuttes a sunder certaine partes of the wild-
beast, in a certaine order verie circumstantly. Whiche duryng,
the standers by, not speakyng a worde, behold it solemnly, as
if it were some holy <1Misterie,>1 hauyng seen the like yet more
than a hundred tymes before. Than (sir) whose happe it be to
eate parte of the flesshe, marie he thynkes verily to be made
is  therby halfe a gentilman. So therfore, wheras these hunters
through continuall chasyng and eatyng of theyr venerie, gaine
nothyng, but in a maner [H<i2>i] dooe them selfes also degenerate
into wilde and saluage propretees, ye maie see yet, how through
this errour of mine, thei repute theyr lyues ledde in more than
princely pleasure.
     And lykewyse, are not they most madly, but natheles
pleasantly occupied, that wholy sette theyr study on buildyng?
to set vp, and plucke downe againe, now square, now rounde,
now of this cast, now of that, neuer makyng ende, till brought

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at last therby to extreme pouertee, they haue not so muche lefte
them as a cotage, where to put in theyr heades, nor one crosse of
comfort, to bie theim breadde withall. But what therof? forsouth
a few yeres haue they spent yet, in great wanhope, and pleasure.
  Not farre vnlyke these <1Alcumistes,>1 or multipliers, who by
theyr newfound secrete science, go about to chaunge metall into
metall, serchyng bothe by sea and by lande, a certaine <1Quintes->1
<1sence.>1 These men are so enticed by an hope they haue to bringe
theyr feate to passe, as neither labour, nor cost maie withdraw
theim from the same, but wittily euer they dooe deuise some
new thyng, wherwith to begyle theim selues againe, till at last,
hauyng spent all they coulde make, there remaineth not to theirn
so muche siluer, as wherwith to bie bechen coles for their
fornace. Natheles they leaue not to dreame still of wonderous
pleasant inuencions, encourageyng others, as muche as in theim
lieth, to the same trade of felicitee. That whan at last all hope
forsaketh theim, yet haue they this prouerbe in theyr mouthes,
in steede of a great comfort and recompence, <2Saiyng, how in>2
<2hiegh enterprises, euin the good wyll alone is sufficient.>2 And than
(loe) in theyr excuse, accuse they the shortnesse of mans
[H<i2>i<sv>s] life, whiche suffiseth not for the great waight of so depe
a cunnyng to be fully serched out.
  Moreouer these dyseplaiers, though I doubt whether theyr
madnesse be foolisshe, or furious, yet surely it is a foolissh, and
ridiculous sight, to beholde many of theim so geuin to the plaie,
that as soone as they but here ones the sounde of the dyse-
springyng vpon the boorde, (Lorde) how by and by theyr hertes
beginne to lepe and throbbe in theyr belies. Further, through a
certaine suckling hope of gaine, hauyng made shipwreke of all
theyr goodes, whan theyr shippe strikes vpon the <1Dyserocke.>1
(a daunger farre more perilous, than is the race of Britaine)
theim selues hardely escapyng in theyr hose and theyr doubletes,
yet sooner will they begyle theyr owne brother, than hym that
nycked theim of theyr money, lest els perchaunce they might be

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counted foule gamesters. Yea, and beyng olde now, and almost
blinde, yet plaie they still with glasen eies: and lastly hauyng
theyr fyngers so knobbed with the goute, as rendreth them
impotent, yet hyre thei some other to cast the dyse for them.
In whiche kinde of madnesse (I wene) thei myght passe theyr
tymes right pleasantly, if it did not for the most part burst into
a rage, and so pertaine rather to the <1Furies>1 of hell, than to me.
  But those men (no question) are wholy of my retinew, that
put theyr sole delyte in tellyng or hearyng of these feigned
miracles, or verilier monstrous lies, beyng neuer satisfied ther-
with, as whan they feigne certaine terrible tales of gostes, sprites,
fairies, and diuels, with thousande suche other oldwyues inuen-
cions, whiche the further thei sounde from trueth, are the
gladlier beleued, and more [H<i3>i] pleasantly dooe fede mens
eares. For surely suche fables are not onely doulcet to passe the
tyme withall, but gainfull also to theyr practisers, suche as
<2perdoners>2 and <2limittours be.>2
  Than againe next neyghbours to these, are suche as haue a
foolisshe, but yet a pleasant perswasion to theim selues, that
what daie thei see a woodden or a peincted image of the geant
saincte <1Christopher,>1 no mischaunce shall betide theim. Or if
thei grete the grauen image of saincte <1Barbara,>1 with some
praier prescribed for that vse, they can not but retourne hurte-
lesse from the warres. Or if vpon the sondaies they woorship
saincte <1Erasmus,>1 with certaine tapers and <1Paternosters,>1 thei
shall in short space become riche men.
  For what speake I of others, who with feigned <1Perdones,>1
and remissions of sinnes dooe pleasantly flattre theim selues,
takyng vpon theim to measure the space and continuance of
soules abode in <1Purgatorie,>1 as it were by <1houreglasses,>1
settyng out, bothe the yeres, the monthes, the daies, the houres,
and the lest minutes, without missyng, as if they had cast it by
Algrysme? Or what of those, that vnder confidence of certaine
<1Magike praiers,>1 and charmelyke <1Rosaries,>1 whiche some

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deuoute deceiuour inuented fyrste, either for his pleasure, or
his profyte, dooe promyse theim selues all gladde thynges,
richesse, honour, pleasure, good fare, longe health lenger life,
greene age, yea, and the next seate in heauen to god almightie,
whiche seate yet by theyr willes thei wolde not possesse to
timely, I meane, that whan the pleasures of this life haue lefte
theim muche against theyr willes, yea holdyng theim backe as
it were by the teeth, than are thei at last content, to [H<i3>i<sv>s] haue
those heauenly ioies succede in the others places.
  And here now I maie bringe in the foolisshe wanhope (imagine
we) of some vsurer, or man of warre, or corrupte iudge, who
castyng foorth one halfpenie of all his euill gotten goodes, will
straight thynke that the whole hoorde of his former mislife, is
at ones forgeuin hym, and that his periuries, his lecheries, his
drunkennesses, braulynges, deceites, trumperies, and treasons,
whiche infinitely he by all his life committed, are therby as
vpon a <1Quites>1 est redeemed, yea and so redeemed, as it maie
be leefull for hym, therupon to retourne a freshe to a new worlde
of vices.
  Further, how foolisshe, naie-rather how happie are those good
soules? whiche in saiyng daily the.vii. verses pyked out of the
whole <1Psaltier,>1 beleeue they can not mysse of too too great
a good tourne at goddes handes? Whiche verses (it is saied)
<1Sainct Bernard>1 learned fyrst of a certaine mery conceited
diuell, yet lenger tounged, than craftie, for the poore wretche
let <1Sainct Bernard>1 begyle hym. But as for the verses, beyng
in deede so balde, and nothyng correspondent to the braue title
they beare, as welnere I my selfe am ashamed of theim, yet are
they allowed, not onely of the people, but also of my <2great>2
<2presidentes of religion.>2
    Moreouer, sauoureth it not of the same saulce (trow ye) whan
euerie countrey chalengeth a seuerall sainct for theyr patrone,
assignyng further to eche sainct a peculier cure and office, with
also sundrie waies of woorshippynge? as, <2this sainct helpeth for>2

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<2the totheache: that socoureth in childbyrth.: she restoreth stolne>2
<2goodes: an other aydeth shipmen in tempestes: an other taketh>2
<2charge of husbandmens hogges:>2 and so of the rest: for to longe -
were [H<i4>i] it to reherse all. Than some sainctes there be, that
are generally sued to for many thynges: amonges whom chiefely
is the virgin mother of god: in whom vulgar folke haue an
especiall confidence, yea almost more than in hir sonne.
  But what is it (I praie you) that men make peticion for vnto
these sainctes? sauyng for thynges perteinyng rather to Fo1ie,
than ought els? Or amonges so many peincted tables, images
of waxe, and other offringes, wherwith all the walles, and roofes
of some pylgrimage chapels are decked, in token of daungers
escaped, sawe ye euer any man yet escape folie, or made one
heare the wyser? <2Some one>2 (perchaunce) <2was sauedfrom drown->2
<2ing: an other striken through with a potgonne, recouered.: an other,>2
<2whiles bothe partes were together by the eares, no lesse happely,>2
<2than manfully, fledde from the battaile: an other, beyng hanged on>2
<2the galowes, through the fauour of some sainct, good maister to>2
<2theues, brake the haulter and ranne his waie,>2 to the ende he myght
ones more helpe to discharge suche, as are ouercharged with
theyr money bagges: <2An other, breakyng Prison escaped.: An other>2
in <2spyte of the phisicion waxed whole of his longe botched sicke->2
<2nesse: An other, that dranke two sortes ofpoyson at ones, through>2
<2the conflict of theyr contrarie operacions, beyng driuen into a laxe,>2
<2founde theim rather medicinable, than deadly, vnto hym, full sore>2
<2against his wiues will, who lost bothe hir labour and cost about it: An>2
<2other, whan his carte oucrtourned, brought his horses home in sauetie:>2
<2An other, beyng fasshed with thefall ofan house, lost not(thankes be>2
<2to the sainct) his life: An other, founde a bedde with a mans wyfe,>2
<2had the grace yet to shiftefrom hir husbande.>2 But none of all these
(I warrant you) yeldeth thankes for his folie laied asyde. So
[H<i4>i<sv>s] sweete a thyng is it, to be cumbred with no wysedome,
as men had rather axe perdone of any other thyng, than that.
  But how am I entred thus farre, into this <2Sea of supersti->2
<2cions? That if I had an hundred tounges, as many mouthes, and>2
<2a Joyce therto of yron, Wet coulde I neuer descriue halfe the kyndes>2

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<2of fooles, nor recken vf halfe the names of theyr folies.>2 So swarmeth
on all sydes the life of christen men, with this blindnesse: whiche
natheles priestes not onely dooe admitte gladly, but also set it
forwardes, because they know well enough on whiche side theyr
breade is buttred. But now, if some one of these cumbrous wyse-
men shoulde ryse vp, and saie (and saie truely) <2thou shalt neuer>2
<2die ill, as longe as thou liuest well: Thou redeemest thy synnes, in>2
<2case to one halffennie geuin to the foore, thou addest refentaunce>2
<2of thy misdeedes, together with teares, fraier, and fastyng: and>2
<2changest all the trade of thy lyfe.: this sainct will helfe the, if thou>2
<2liuest as he>2 did. These aduertisementes and suche semblable, if
this wyseman (I saie) shoulde barke vnto the people: See than
straight from howe sweete a felicitee, into howe great a trouble
and confusion, he shoulde plucke backe the myndes of mortall
naen.
   To this college doe thei also pertaine, who by theyr liue daies,
dooe seriously enacte, with what pompe and ordre they woulde
be buried. So farfoorth as by tale also they expresse the noumbre
of the torches, tapers, mourners, priestes, and orders of friers
to synge at theyr funeralles: And than, how many hyred for
money must lament and howle for theim. As who saieth, any
maner sense of this spectacle shoulde redounde vnto the deade.
Or as if they, shoulde blusshe and be ashamed, vnles the corps
were [Ii] woorshipfully enterred, with none other desyre in this
poyncte, than if beyng made maiors or sheriues they shoulde
ordeine a midsomer syght.
   And truely, make I neuer so muche haste, yet I can not passe
ouer in silence those pecockes, whiche in deede are nothyng
different from the poorest coblers that clowte shoone, and yet
vnder a vaine title of nobilitee doe wondersly stand in theyr
owne conceites.  One of theim bringes his petigrew from
<1Aeneas,>1 an other from <1Brutus,>1 an other from <1Arthur:>1
They shew the grauen and peincted armes of theyr auncestours:

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they speake of theyr <2graundfathers, great graundfathers, bel->2
<2graundfathers, and great belgraundfathers,>2 wheras they theim
selues stand lyke blockes, in a maner lesse worth, than those
peincted signes, whiche they glorie in. And yet, through this
sweete perswasion of <1Selflykyng,>1 they leade a golden life:
namely since suche there want not, as verie fooles as the other,
that haue these kynde of calues in veneracion, as if they were
goddes.
  But what speake I now of one, or two exemples? as though
this <1Selflykyng>1 made not most men, manifoldly, by wonderous
meanes, most happie in theyr owne opinion: as whan one fowler
than any marmoset, thynkes hym selfe to be goodlier than
<1Absalon. Or>1 some other, as soone as he can draw three lynes
with a compasse, takes hym selfe to be as good in <1Geometrie>1 as
euer was <1Euclides. An>1 other <2lyke an asse to the harfe,>2 though
he syng no better than a <1Gynee cocke,>1 weneth yet to be <1Hermo>1
<1genes,>1 that excellent musicien. Than againe, this (no faile) is
a sweete kynde of madnesse, whiche we see in diuers fooles,
who what euer qualitee theyr friendes, or ser-[Ii<sv>s]uauntes
haue, dooe glorie as muche therin, as if they coulde dooe it
theim selues. Not muche vnlike that wealthie richeman, whom
<1Seneke>1 writeth of, Who takyng vpon hym to tell a tale, had
euer his seruauntes at hand to prompt him where he missed:
and beyng him selfe so feble, as scantly he coulde stande on
his legges, woulde not feare yet, vpon confidence of so many
poudredbefe lubbers, as he fedde at home, to make a mache with
any man at footeball.
  Furthermore I thynke it nedelesse for me, to touche any whit
these graduates of artes, and sciences. Seyng that <1Selfloue>1 is
altogethers so muche theyr alie, as any of theim will sooner be
driuen from the enheritance his father lefte him, than geue place
in cunnyng to any others: but chiefely these <2Syngyng men,>2
<2Sofhistrers, Rhetoriciens, and foetes>2 dooe excell therin: amonges

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whom, the vncunnynger, the more lyketh hym selfe, and the
franklier bosteth what he can dooe. And <2lyke letuce, lyke lipfes:>2
for the balder the thing be, the more are men wont to be in loue
with it: as commenly the woorst thynges are best fantesied,
because (as afore I saied) the most parte of men are subiecte
vnto Folie. And therfore, if so be that a man the vncunnynger
he is, the deeper yet standeth in his owne conceite, and is of
moste men the more accepted, now I see not to what entent he
shoulde rather coueite the true and perfite knowlage of the
thyng that he professeth, whiche fyrst shoulde cost hym longe
labour and expence before he atteine it, and beyng ones had,
should make hym the lesse vnderstanded, the more fearefull
to misse in vttryng of it, and lastly commended of a farre fewer
noumbre, because most mens rude-[I<i2>i]nesse can not reche to
the fines of the same.
   Moreouer, wee see how nature as in singular men, so also in
eche <1Nacion,>1 and almost in eche citee, hath graffed a certaine
commen selflikyng. And so it commes to passe, that <1Englisshe->1
<1men>1 peculierly before all other thynges, dooe vindicate vnto
theim faire shape of the bodie, musike, and well farsed tables.
<1Scottes,>1 dooe bost theim selues in theyr nobilitee, and nere-
nesse of bloudde to their prince, not a little also flattryng theim
selues in theyr <1Duns doctrine. Frenchemen,>1 woulde be
counted ciuile, and curteis of maners. <1Parisiens,>1 all other
names set asyde, desyre yet that the science of <1Theologie>1 be
peculierly annexed to theyr vniuersitee. <1Italians,>1 aboue all men
count theim selues learned in humanitee and eloquence, chiefely
gloriyng in this, that amonges all other nacions, they be not
<1Barbarous.>1 In whiche kynde of felicitee the <1Romains>1 are
principall, who euin yet, dreame pleasauntly of the triumphes
of theyr olde <1Rome. Venecians,>1 put great confidence in their
nobilitee. <1Grekes,>1 as authours of all sciences, doe magnifie
theim selues in so many famous men, as whilom flourished in
theyr countrey. <1Turkes,>1 and all that frothe of the verie Bar-
bariens, wolde be commended yet euin for theyr religion,
laughyng christen men to scorne, as rather full of supersti-
cions. But muche more sweetely are the <1Iewes>1 deceiued, who

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constantly loke yet after theyr <1Messias,>1 and euin till this daie
stande obstinately by theyr <1Moyses>1 law. <1Hispanierdes,>1 wolde
be taken for good men of warre. <1Allemaignes,>1 dooe faune
vpon theim selues for theyr talnesse, and knowlage in artmagike.
Thus, as it were to longe to [I<i2>i<sv>s] repete all, so you see (I trow)
how muche this arrogance of <1Selfloue>1 dooeth delite all men,
in all places.
  With whom in a maner hir syster <1Adulacion>1 may compare.
For <1Selfloue>1 is naught els, but whan a man fauneth on hym
selfe. Whiche if thou dooest to an other, than is it <1Adulacion,>1
or flaterie. But now a daies <1Flaterie>1 (on gods name) is taken for
a vile fault, but of suche as are moued rather with the name,
than with the thyng it selfe. They thinke how faieth, may euill
ioygne with flaterie, whiche to be otherwyse, we maie learne
through the exemple of brute beastes. For what can be more
faunyng, and flattryng to a man, than a dogge? but than againe,
what is more faiethful? What is fuller of daliance than a squyrell?
but than againe what is lesse hurtfull? Vnlesse perchaunce ye
will saie, that Lyons,Tygres, or Leoperdes are meter for mans
recreacion. How be it there is in deede a certaine kynde of
flaterie, wherby some traitours and deceitfull villaines, dooe
traine simple folkes oftentymes to theyr vndoyng. But this <1Adu->1
easie whitenesse (as it were) of a friendly good will, and draweth
muche nearer to a vertue, than dooeth hir contrarie, that is to
saie, a <2roughe flainesse, or vnmanerly crabbednesse, to beare with>2
no <2man.>2 This <1Adulacion>1 encourageth a weake sprite, comforteth
one droupyng in sadnesse, quickeneth a langwisshyng thought,
wakeneth a dulle head, reiseth vp a sicke mynde, mollifieth a
stubbourne hert, getteth loue, and ones gotten, reteineth it still,
enticeth children with a good wil to lerne their bokes, gladdeth
olde folkes, teacheth, and admonissheth [I3] princes of theyr
duities, vnder coulour of praise, without offendyng: briefely,
it maketh that eche man to him selfe is bothe dearer, and more

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acceptable: whiche effect maie well be taken for the chiefest
membre of felicitee. And what can be more faunyng, than whan
one man praiseth an other? <2lyke moylcs clawyng eche others>2
<2backe?>2 Or what nedeth me to alleage vnto you, how this flaterie
supplieth a great good porcion of that famous <1Eloquence,>1
greatter percell of <1Phisike,>1 and greatest of <1Poetrie?>1 at ones,
that she is euin the verie hony, and conserue of naans societee
and companiyng togethers?
   But <1Philosophers>1 saie <2it is a miserable thyng to be begyled,>2
and <2erre so.>2 Naie, most miserable is it (I saie) not to erre, and not
to be deceiued. For too too are thei deceiued, who wene that
mans felicitee consisteth in thinges selfe, and not rat
opinion how the same are taken. In <2as muche as in all humaine>2
<2thynges, there is so great darkenesse and diuersnesse, as nothyng>2
<2maie be clercly knowne out, nor discouered:>2 lyke as truely was
affirmed by my <1Academicall philosophers,>1 the lest arrogant
amonges all theyr <1Sectes.>1 Or if that ought maie be knowen, the
same yet not seeldome disauaileth to the gladsomenesse and
pleasure of the lyfe. Lastly, so is mans mynde framed, as muche
more it deliteth in thynges to the shew, than in suche as are in
deede. Wherof who so list to haue a liuely prouffe, let hym no
more but goe to a sermon, wherin if ought be saied grauely, and
to the mattier, he shall see straight all the audience, other slepe,
or gaspe, or be vrkesome. But and if the skreker (the preacher
I woulde haue saied) falleth out of his purpose, as commenly
their vsage is, into some [I<i3>i<sv>s] tale of <1Gesta Romanorum,>1
or suche lyke, than by and by they lift vp their heades, they
stande vp, and geue good eare. Also if any sainct amonges other,
semeth rathest to be newfounde or poeticall, admitte it be sainct
Brandon, saint Christophre, or sainct Barbara, the same yet shall
ye see more deuoutly woorshipped, and vowed to of the people,
than peter, or paule, yea or Christ hym selfe. But these mattiers
perteine not to this place.
   Consider you therfore, how muche lesse costeth the acquirey
of this felicitee, whiche dependeth on the semblance and opinion

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of a thyng, as if it were had, than that other of the thyng selfe,
beyng had in deede, whiche be it of neuer so small value and
estirnacion, as <1Grammer,>1 yet you see how longe a man must
sweate ere he gette it, wheras the semblaunce of the same ye
maie easelie conceiue, and come by, through your owne per-
swasion: and yet shall that conceipte as muche, or more auaile
you towardes felicitee. For admitte that one eateth stinkyng salt-
fisshe, wherof some other could scant byde the smelle, and yet
to his mouthe it tasteth sweeter than a partrich, now (I praie
you) what difference is there, as touchyng the felicitee he taketh
therin? Or another abhorred to eate of a Carpe, or some other
delicate kynde of fisshe, did that any thyng hyndre the blisfull
state of his life? If a man hath a wyfe as vglie as maie be, who
yet in his conceipt maie compare in beautie with <1Venus,>1 is it
not all one now vnto hym, as if she were fayre in deede? If he
that beholdeth a table daubed with a little durt and redde Okre,
did perswade hym selfe it were a pece of <1Apelles>1 or <1Hans>1 
<1Holbyns>1 peinctyng, is he not happier (trow [I4] ye) than some
other, who at great price haue bought some of those woorkmens
woorkes? and peraduenture take lesse pleasure in regardyng of
the same, than he dooeth of his? I know a gentilman, that pre-
sented his new wedded wife with certaine counterfeict stones
set in ringes, perswadyng hir (as he could dooe finely enough)
that not onely they were true, and orient, but also of great value.
Now I praie you, what skilled that to hir? Seyng she contented
bothe hir eies and fantesie with those counterfeictes, kepyng
them for a great treasure, wheras the housbande in the meane
season both spared cost, and toke pleasure at his wyues errour,
who natheles conned him as great thanke, as if they had been
right iewels. <2Is there any difference>2 (trow ye) <2betweene suche as>2
<2Platofeigneth sittyng in a caue vnder the grounde, to see nothyng>2
<2but shadowes and refresentacions of thynges, so that they dooe>2
<2coueite naught els, and content theim selues therwith, and that>2
<2wyseman, he imagineth shoulde come out of the caue, and so see>2
<2verie thynges as they are in deede?>2 That and if <1Micillus>1 in

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Lucians dialogues had euermore dreamed that his golden and
riche dreame, than neded he not to haue wisshed for any other
felicitee.
   Conclude therfore, that no difference is betwene a thyng it
selfe, and the opinion or semblaunce of the same: or if there be,
than are my fooles yet in the happier trade. Fyrst because theyr
felicitee costeth theim as little as can be, as onely an easy per-
swasion and belefe that they haue, or can dooe a thyng. Nexte
than, for that they enioie theyr felicitee in commen with many
others, and pardie ye knowe, <1how>1 vnpleasaunt the possession of
any weale is, without felowship, as if a [I<i4>i<sv>s] man dwelled wiih-
out cornpany in the fayrest platte of the whole earth. Wherunto
I maie lyken these wisemen. For who is he that knoweth not how
scarce thei are to fynde, in case ye fynde any at all? In deede
the <1Grekes>1 in so many hundred yeres could pyke out but seuin
of theim: and yet if ye siphte those well, I reny my selfe, and ye
fynde one halfe, yea or the thyrde part of a wiseman amonges
theim all.
   Therfore, if amonges many commoditees whiche my cosyn
<1Bacchus>1 doth endue you with, this (and woorthily) is reputed
the chiefest, <2that throughe drunkennesse he wypeth all cares, and>2
4<2nxieteesfrom the mynde, but for a season onely,>2 (for as soone as
one hath slept a while vpon his drinke, and tempred so his
braines, than returne <2in fost haste>2 his forrner troubles and vexa-
cions), How farre more ample, and redie, than, is my benefite
of Folie vnto you? whan thorough a continuall drunkennesse
(as it were) I replenishe your myndes, with muche ioie, delite,
and pleasure, yea and that so easelie brought about?
   Whiche benefite of myne I dooe distribute to all rnen, wheras
other Goddes gyftes are deriued sundrely vpon sundrie men.
Pardie, these noble and fine wines that are hable to resolue sad-
nesse, and make men plucke vp theyr stomakes, dooe not grow
in euerie place. Few haue the gyfte of beautie through <1Venus>1
fauour. Fewer haue eloquence at <1Mercuries>1 handes. <1Hercules>1

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maketh not all men riche. <1Iupiter>1 graunteth not kyngdomes to
euery bodie. Oftentymes <1Mars>1 fauoureth neither partie. Many
retourne discomforted frorn <1Apollos>1 oracle.  Not seeldome
<1Ioues>1 thunder destroieth men: and <1Phebus>1 launceth his arowes
of plage amonges [Ki] you. <1Neptunus>1 drowneth more folkes
than he saueth (for what shoulde I speake of these <1Veioues,>1
<1Plutones, Ates, Peynes, Feuers,>1 and suche other, not goddes,
but rather helhoundes and turmentours vnto you). But I Folie
am she, that egally dooe comprehende all men vnder the com-
passe of my so great a good gifte. And loke not yet to be praide
vnto, nor am not angrie, nor seke amendes, whan any parte of
my sacrifice is misdoen, or ouerslipped. Nor I mingle not
heauen and earth together, if any one, biddyng the other Goddes
to a sacrifice banket, leaueth me onely behynd, and alloweth me
not my porcion of the smoke, and sauour of the burnt offrynges.
For of the other Goddes in this poinct suche is the morositee and
ceremoniousnesse, as in a maner it is easier, yea and lesse perill,
for a man to let them alone, than to medle with theyr rites, and
obseruaunces. Lyke as sorne men there be, so waywarde of
nature, and so testiue, as better it were not to vse theyr company,
than to claime any acquaintance of theim.
   <2But no man>2 (saie they) <2maketh sacrifice vnto folie, nor buildeth>2
<2hir a temfle.>2 Now surely I meruaile not a little, (as afore I saied)
at snche ingratitude of men. But yet of my gentilnesse I take
this also in good part. Albeit to saie the trouth I fynde no want
therof at all. For why shoulde I requyre, <2eitherfrankensence, or>2
<2leuained meale, or a gote, or a hogge>2 for my sacrifice? Wheras all
mortall men, in euerie region, doe yelde me that woorshippyng,
whiche euin by these scripturedoctours is wonte to be moste
approued? Vnlesse perchaunce I shoulde enuie <1Diana,>1 because
hir altars are besprent with mans bloud. Naie, I thinke my selfe
to be than moste amplie, and [Ki<sv>s] religiously woorshipped,
whan euerie where, all men beare me (as they dooe) in theyr
hertes, expresse me in theyr maners, and represent me-in theyr
lyuyng. Whiche kynde of woorshippyng is not verie rife, no

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not amonges <1Christians.>1 For what a noumbre of theim see we,
to set tapers afore the virgin mother of God: and that at noone
daies whan lest nede is? But than againe, how few of theirn goe
about to folow hir steppes either in chastnesse of life, sobrenesse
of maners, or loue of heauenly thynges? For so shulde sainctes
most dignely be woorshipped. Moreouer, why shoulde I fynde
lacke of a temple, seeyng all this worlde is in maner of a temple
most goodly (as I take it) vnto me? And as for priestes of my
law, and other ministers of my religion, I am sure I want none
in any place, wheras men want not. Than, I am not altogether
so foolish, to demaunde any grauen or peincted images repre-
sentyng me, whiche rather shoulde derogate than aduance myne
honour, wheras oftentymes I see many doltes, and fatteheddes
woorshippe suche stockes, in stede of the sainctes theim selues,
wherby I might chance to be serued, as they that are thruste out
of theyr roumes, by theyr deputies. But I take it, that so many
images are erected in my name, as there be liuyng men, bearyng
the liuely representacion and image of me about theim, will
they, or will they not. Wherfore, I haue no cause to be agreeued
with the other Goddes, though they be woorshipped sundrely,
in sundrie partes of the earth: and that at tymes of the yere
prefixed. As <1Phehus>1 in the Isle of <1Rhodes, Venus>1 in Cypres,
<1Iuno>1 at <1Argos, Minerua>1 at <1Athenes, Iupiter>1 in <1Olympus,>1
[K<i2>i] <1Neptunus>1 at <1Tarentum:>1 and <1Priapus>1 at <1Lampsacum,>1
Wheras all the worlde vniuersally offreth me daie by daie farre
dearer, and more digne sacrifices, than theirs are.
   That and if I seme to some folkes, to haue spoken these
woordes more stoutly, than truely, goe to, let vs but view a little,
and consider the veraie lyues, and doynges of men, and so it
shall manifestly appeare, how muche thei are endebted vnto me,
 and how muche I am made of, bothe of hiegh and low degrees.
   Yet I entend not to accoumpt euery mans life, for that were
 an endlesse labour, but a certaine onely of the moste notable,
 wherby ye maie easely gesse, what the rest are. For what nede

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I to alleage vulgar people? who altogethers (without any ques-
tion) aperteine to my bande? So many veines of Folie they
abounde in, and so many new mynes they dooe fresshe and
fresshe seke out, as a thousand suche as <1Democritus>1 was, shulde
not suffice to laughe at theim, although yet those verie laughers
had nede of an other <1Democritus>1 to laugh theim also to scorne.
Yea, and it passeth, to see what sporte and passetyme the
Goddes theim selues haue, at suche Folie of these selie mortall
men. For as for the forenoone, and sobre houres of the daie,
those the Goddes spende in counsaile mattiers, and hearyng of
mens vowes, and supplicacions. But after diner ones, whan they
haue drunken merily of theyr <1Nectar,>1 and list not to treate on
ernest affayres, than, whiche syde of heauen bendeth most
towardes the earth, there sitte they, and intentiuely beholde
what mortall men dooe: and surely no spectacle can be more
pleasaunt vnto theim. Good lorde, what a <1Theatre>1 is this
worlde? how many, and diuers [K<i2>i<sv>s] are the pageantes that
fooles plaie therin? For I also not seeldome am wont to sitte
amonges the Goddes to marke mens dooynges. One man see
they redie to die for loue of a woman, and the lesse he is be,
loued, the more hotely to pursue hir. An other marieth the
goodes, not the wydow. He settes his wife to sale. An other ielous
wretche lyke <1Argus,>1 kepeth his in mewe. This man mourneth,
and lorde, what folies saieth he, and dooeth he, hyryng also some
plaiers (as it were) to wepe and howle for the nones. An other,
what so euer he can rape and rende, slingeth it into his bealy
gutte, whan not longe after he woulde gladly skamble for a pece
of biskette. An other puttes all his delite in slepe, and slouth.
There be some suche also, as busie them selues busely in other
mens businesse, not lokyng ones how theyr owne goeth. Some
coumpt theim selues riche men, <2in borowyng of Peter to clothe>2
<2Paule,>2 whan soone after they fynde <1not one>1 fardyng left,

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wherwith to blisse them. An other thinkes nothyng better, thari
liuyng hym selfe wretchedly, to make Iohnn his sonne riche.
This man for a little lucre, and that also incertaine, skymm t
all the seas, committyng his life to the waues and th
whiche no money maie restore to hym, ones beyng forlorne. He
had rather seke him riches in the warres, than slepe in a whole
skynne at home. There be some, that in pliyng, and geuyng
attendaunce on olde men childerlesse, wene to become riche
through executourship. Suche want not also, that in wowyng
of these wealthy olde trottes, thynke to speede sooner of their
purpose. Either of whiche than surely make most pastyme to
the Goddes theyr be-[K3]holders, whan of those that they goe
about to traine, they also are trained, and bayted with crafte
for craft. But aboue all others, vsurers are a kynde of men most
foolisshe and filthy, whose trade and occupacion beyng in deede
the vilest that can be, and therto handled by them after as vile
a maner, with liyng, forswearing, bribyng, begylyng, and shift-
yng, yet coumpt they them selues to be head men of theyr
parisshes, because they weare hoopes, and goldrynges on theyr
fyngers. And no meruaile, whan these blinde minions, these
friers, can so faunyngly vpholde theim in their sermons to the
people, callyng theim worshipfull, and venerande rnaisters, in
hope that some porcion of those euill gotten goodes, maie some-
what in compensacion of theyr golden glosyng, fall vnto theyr
couent. You shall see againe some others so muche geuin to
<1Pythagoras>1 secte, (who <2wolde haue all thynges amonges friendes>2
<2to be in commen)>2 that what so euer they fynde liyng at large, with
as free a conscience they will take it, as if it came to theim by
inheritaunce. There be some also, who onely with wisshyng and
wouldyng are riche in theyr owne fantesie, as whan they imagine
certaine sweete dreames of gladde thynges to befall theim,
whiche they take sufficient for theyr whole felicitee. Many
reioyse to be holden richmen abrode, liuing at home with an
Orenge, or an Oynion. This skapethrifte, throweth his goodes
against the walles. That pennie father, skrapeth it togethers,

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bothe by God, and by the diuell. He, is driuen through ambicion,
to seke fauour at hym, and hym. He, is no medlar, but sittes by
his owne fyre at home. Many fooles, tangle theim selues in the
law, [K<i3>i<sv>s] and can neuer gette out of it, but holde and shoue on
bothe sydes, onely to make fatte these <1adiournyng iudges,>1 and
<1Ambidexter Aduocates.>1 This man loketh for a new worlde.
That man compasseth some depe drifte in his head. Some one
hath an especiall deuocion to goe to <1Ierusalem,>1 to <1Rome, or>1
to sainct <2Iames in Galice,>2 leuyng his wife and children succour-
lesse in the meane while at home. Briefely, if one (as <1Menippus>1
did) lokyng out of the moone, behelde from thence the innu-
merable tumultes, and businesses of mortall men, he shoulde
thynke verily he saw a meny <2offlies, or gnattes, braulyng, fightyng,>2
<2begilyng, robbyng, plaiyng, liuyng wantonly, borne, bredde vf, de->2
<2caiyng, and diyng:>2 So that it is scant beleuable, what commo-
cions, and what <1Tragedies,>1 are sterred vp, by so littell, and so
short liued a vermyn as this man is. For sometimes a small
storme of warre, or pestilence, swopeth awaie and dispacheth
many thousandes of theim togethers.
But I were plainely moste foole of all, and woorthy whom
<1Democritus,>1 with many laughters shuld poinct to scorne, if
I toke vpon me to tell vppe all the sortes of vulgar peoples Folie
and madnesse: and not rather tourne me to those, who amonges
you, haue a certaine reputacion of wisedome. Suche as compasse
no meane thynges, but aspire euer to a certaine preeminence in
knowlage and cunnyng aboue others.
  Amonges whom <1Gramarians>1 and scholemaisters seme to be
right notable. A kynde of men (doubtlesse) most miserable,
most slauelike, and most contemptuous, vnlesse I did mitigate
and releue the discommoditees of theyr most wretched pro-

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fession, with a certaine swete bayte [K<i4>i] of madnesse. For surely
these <1Grammerteachers>1 are not pestred with one, or two
euils, but rather with <1centum grauamina. As>1 who, euer in
theyr scholes, their scholes, saied I? naie rather <1in>1 their <2Chapitre>2
<2houses, session flaces, or bucheries,>2 beyng alwaies bare, hungrie,
and slouenly, do wast theim selues awaie with continuall
trauailes amonges a meny of boies, waxe deaffe with noyse and
criyng, kyll theim selues with stenche and filthinesse. And yet
through my benefite, they coumpt no men like theim selues.
So lordely a thyng they take it, whan thei feare their feareful
flocke, with a thretenyng voice and countenaunce. So princely
an execucion, to teare the poore boyes arses with roddes, and
<1ferules,>1 plaiyng the tourmentours, and termagantes amonges
them, muche lyke <2the asse wraffed in a lyons skynne.>2 But yet,
whiles they are thus occupied, that their filthinesse semeth more
than clennesse vnto theim, that stenche, and fyslyng, smelleth
ambre grise, that bondage of bondages is taken by theim for a
kyngdome: So farfurth as they wolde not chaunge theyr tyran-
nisshe estate, neither with <1Phalaris>1 nor <1Dionysius.>1 But farre
more blisfull yet be they, throughe a certaine conceipt they
haue taken of a newe trade in teachyng, eche therin folowyng
his owne deuise. That wheras they put in to childerns heades,
naught but mere trifles, and fonde rules of theyr owne, yet
(Lorde) what <1Palaemon,>1 or what <1Donate>1 will not they dispise,
in regarde of them selues? But (thanked be God) they fynde the
meanes yet, by what crafte I can not tell, to make the foolisshe
mothers, and ignoraunt fathers beleue, that they are suche in
deede, as they boste theim selues to be. [K<i4>i<sv>s] Adde also here-
unto, this kynde of delite they haue, as often as any of theim
chaunceth in some olde boke to fynde out the name of <1An>1
<1chises>1 mother, or some other latine woorde <1not>1 commenly vsed,
as <1Bubsequa, Bouinator, Manticulator,>1 or diggeth vp
some gobbet of an olde stone grauen with Romaine or greke
letters somewhat defaced, (Lorde) than what exultacion, what
triumphes, what commendacions make they of it? as if they had

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 wonne all <1Afrlke>1, or taken the great citee of <1Babylon.>1 What
thynke you also, whan they sette vp and shew abrode theyr
versis? versis (god knoweth) most balde, and foolisshe, but
neuer the more faile thei of some as verie asses as they, who will
hieghly commende the same: whiche putteth theim in suche
a fiusshe, as plainly they beleeue they haue recouered <1Virgiles>1
owne vaine in poetrie. But this is the sweetest poincte of all, to
see theim flatter, and praise eche other, clawyng theim selues by
courses. That and if (as is possible enough) it chanceth one of
them to stumble at some woorde, and an other beyng more
aduised than he to take hym with the maner, <1(Oh Hercules)>1
what <1Tragedies,>1 what <1Disputacions,>1 what <1Inuectiues>1 are
tossed than and retossed betwixe theim? Let neuer grammarian
be my friende, if I lie ought herein.
I know a certaine learned man, beyng bothe <2a Grecian, and>2
<2a Latiniste, a Geometricien, a fhilosofher, and a fhisicien,>2 yea a
kynges phisicion, now almost.lx. yeres old, who settyng all
other thynges a parte, hath whole twentie yeres togethers, gone
about the makyng of a new <1Grammer:>1 estemyng hym selfe
right happie, if he maie yet liue so longe, as to sette a perfite
rule and distinction <1[Li]>1 betweene the eight partes of speche:.
whiche hitherto none of the <1Greke,>1 nor <1Latine grammarians>1
could fully bringe to passe: As who saieth, it were deadly sinne,
if one make a <1Coniunction>1 a distinction perteinyng to the-
nature of <1Aduerbes.>1 And for this cause, thoughe alreadie there
be as many <1Grammers,>1 as <1Grammerteachers,>1 naie moe,
for my friende <1Aldus>1 alone hath more than fiue times set <1out>1
a grammer, yet ouerslippeth he no grammerboke, be it neuer so
tedious, and barbarously written, whiche he loketh not ouer,
and sercheth throughly, enuiyng any man that in this kynde
shoulde goe one ace beyonde hym, as if he feared lest some other
might take the glorie hereof from him, and so his twentie yeres
labours shoulde be spent in vaine. Now whether call you this,
a madnesse or a Folie? For as to me it skilleth not, so ye confesse
it to procede all of rny goodnesse, that these poore wightes,
these <1Grammarians,>1 and <1Scholemaisters,>1 who els shulde
be as wretched as wretchednesse it selfe, wene yet they are

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mounted into suche a felicitee, as gladly they woulde not chaunge
liues, nor estates, no not with the <2riche kynges of Persia.>2
  <1Poetes>1 are somewhat lesse beholding vnto me, notwithstand-
yng, euin by theyr profession they shew theim selues to be of
my secte, a free kynde of men, that lyke peincters maie feigne
what they list, whose studie tendeth naught els, than to fede
fooles eares with mere trifles and foolisshe fables. And yet it is
a wonderous thyng to see, how through fame therof, they wene to
be made immortall, and Gods peres, promisyng others also like
immortalitee therby. To this order more than to any other, bothe
<1Selfloue,>1 and <1Adulacion>1 are annexed fa-[Li<sv>s]miliarly, and
no kynde of men am I obsemed more plainly, nor more constantly.
  Moreouer <1Oratours,>1 and <1Rhetoriciens,>1 notwithstandyng
that a littel they seeme to swarue from me, cleuyng to the
philosophers,  yet I can proue theim also to be of my faction,
as well by other argumentes, as by this, that in the preceptes of
theyr arte, amonges diuers other trifles, they haue written        
largely and exactly, <2how to frouoke laughter in an audience, and>2
<2of the cast, or meanes of scoffyng:>2 So farfurth as he, what so euer
he was, that wrote the boke of <1Rhetorike>1 to <1Herennius,>1
<2maketh folie also to be a membre and farcell of Rhetorike.>2 And
<1Quintilian,>1    the verie headman of this ordre, in his boke of
the <2institucion of an Oratour,>2 hath made one chapitre all of
laughtersterryng, lenger I wene than is <1Homers Iliade.>1 Yea,
so muche dooe <1Rhetoriciens>1 attribute to foolisshenesse, as
oftentymes what obiection by no argumentes maie be refelled,
the same yet with some laughyng and scoffyng conceites, thei
wolde haue shifted of. Vnlesse perchance ye will saie, that folie
hath naught to doe therin, whan with suche tauntes and meri-
tourried aunswers, they prouoke men to laughter, yea and that
by rules and preceptes geuin therof for the nones.

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   Of this grape are suche also as in makyng and publisshyng of
new bokes, doe fisshe for a praise and glorie. These men, as
generally they are muche bounden vnto me, so in especiall are
suche of theim, as dooe blotte theyr papers with merest trifles.
For as for those that take vpon theim to write cunnyngly to the
iudgement of a fewe, and care not what learned men loke vpon
theyr doynges, theim take I to be rather miserable, than blisfull,
se-[L2]yng how continually thei are faine to writhe their wittes
in and out, in puttyng to, in chaungyng, in blottyng out, in
laiyng theyr woorke aside, in oueruewyng it againe, in shewyng
it to some for a prouffe, and yet kepyng it in theyr handes whole
nyne yeres togethers, so that they are neuer satisfied with theim
selues, whiles they goe about to purchase so vaine a rewarde as
praise is, yea and that geuin theim by a few onely, so dearely
bought with many nightes labors, and losse of slepe, the sweetest
thyng that can be, and with so many trauailes, and beatyng of
theyr braines about it: besides the hurt thei susteine in their
bodies, decaie of beautie, marryng of theyr eiesight, or also
blindnesse, together with pouertee, enuie, forbearyng of plea-
sures, vntimely age, hasted death, and suche like disaduantages,
whiche natheles these wisemen sticke not at, so they maie haue
theyr writynges allowed at one or two of these blereied boke-
wormes handes. But my <1Scribes>1 on the other side, haue not
a little more commoditee and pleasure of their folie. Wheras
takyng no great leysure in pennyng of theyr mattier, naie rather
what so euer toie lighteth in their head, or falleth in their
thought, be it but theyr dreame, they doe put the same straight
in writyng, with small dispence or none, sauyng waste of paper,
knowyng (I warrant you) what will come of it, that the fonder
the trifles be, whiche thei entreate of, the more commendacion
shall thei gette of most men, fooles as thei and vnlearned. And
what maistrie is it for them to set light store by two or three of
those learned mens repriues, if so be yet they rede theyr woorkes?
Or what auaileth theim, so few wysemens allowaunce? where so

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[L2<sv>s] great a multitude of fooles on the other syde will disalow
it. That in case thei haue the feate to set furth other mens
doynges for theyr owne, and can be contented to beare the name
of that, whiche others toke the peines about, marie sir, than I
thynke they haue good skille: for though it chaunce theim at
laste to be taken with the maner, yet for a season thei maie kepe
theyr reputacion.
  And it is a pleasure to marke how muche these men esteeme
theim selues, whan they are praised so of the people, and whan
they are poincted out in a great cornpany, as, <2this is the wonderous>2
<2felow ye here of:>2 and whan in euery bokebynders shoppe theyr
woorkes are set to the sale, and whan they rede theyr <2names,>2
<2surnames,>2 and <2bynames,>2 set in the fyrst fruntes of euery boke,
whiche titles also they dooe counterfeicte, and tourne into some
contrarie language, as strange as maie be deuised. Yet, I praie
you, whan all is dooen, what be they els but names? and how
few shall know those mmes, hauyng regard to the worldes
wydenesse? and how many lesse commende theim? namely
suche diuersitee beyng in iudgementes: yea amonges vnlearned
men also? But what saie you to this, that not seeldome they feigne
those names, or borow theim out of olde <1Autours?>1 for one of
theim ioyeth to be named <1Telemachus,>1 an other <1Stelenus,>1 or
<1Laertes,>1 he <1Polycrates,>1 he <1Thrasymachus,>1 and suche lyke.
So that now it skilleth not how they entitle theyr bookes, for by
as good reason myght they call it <2a goorde, or a radisshe roote,>2 or
name it A, or B,   as philosophers dooe by theyrs.
   But this is the best sporte of all to see theim present eche
others with <2efistles, with verses, and with mattiers of fraise,>2 [L3]
sent from fooles,  to fooles: and from asses, to asses. Here, he
in his iudgement is as good a <1Poete>1 as <1Alcaeus>1 was, and hym
doeth he likewyse compare to <1Calimachus.>1 The one is holden
for more eloquent than <1Tullius Cicero:>1 that other for better
learned than <1Plato.>1   Yea and not seeldome leuyng this
plaie, thei fall to foule, in sekyng theim out some aduersaries,
to the ende that in contendyng togethers, theyr fame maie

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be the wyder blowne abrode. In the meane tyrne, one learned man
taketh his parte, an other taketh his, till at last bothe the <1Capi->1
<1taines>1 hauyng buckled manfully togethers, wolde be taken for
<1Victours,>1 and both partes pretende to <1Triumph>1 therfore.
These thynges of wysemen are counted to be mere folies, as in
deede thei are, who can denie it? But yet therewhile through
my benefite they lede a pleasaunt and glorious life, as not willyng
to chaunge theyr <1Triumphes,>1 skarcely (I beleue) with those of
the <1Scipions.>1 How be it, suche as are learned in deede, are
not a little also beholdyng vnto me, whiles with great pleasure
they maie laugh at the other, and take fruicion of their madnesse,
whiche they can not againesaie, vnlesse they be to vnkinde, and
the veriest chorles of all.
   Next these now, <1Ciuilians,>1 and <1Canonistes>1 chalenge no
meane place amonges learned men. And who than they stande
depelier in <1Selflikyng?>1 For whiles continually thei turne, and
retourne <1Sisyphus stone>1 in rehersyng vp an hundred <1Iawes>1
and <1Paragraphes>1 all with a breath, it skilleth not howe littell
to purpose, and whiles they adde <1glose>1 vpon <1glose,>1 and
<1opinions>1 vpon <1opinions,>1 they make as though theyr law
science were most hard, and [L3<sv>s] difficult to be atteined to. So
what so euer is hardly dooen, that they recken straight to be
moste excellent.
   And ioigne we (hardily) to theim these <1Sophistrers>1 and
<1Logiciens,>1 beyng a race of men <2more kackeling than a meny of>2
<2dawes:>2 eche of whom in bablyng maie compare with tenne
women chosen for the nones, and farre more happie shoulde be,
in case they were onely bablers, and not skoldes also: in sorte
that oftentymes for <2the moone shyne in the water,>2 they striue
whole daies together, and with to muche arguyng, lette the
trueth of the mattier slippe by theim.  Natheles through
<1Selflikyng>1 they are bathed all in felicitee, so that armed onely
with <2three Syllogismes,>2 they dare boldly prouoke any man, as

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well assured that thei wil neuer geue ouer, though <1Stentor>1 hym
selfe were matched against theim.
   Nexte theim come these <1Philosophers,>1 venerable for theyr
longe beardes, and clokes downe to the feete, protestyng theim
selues onely to haue knowlage and wysedome, wheras other men
stande for no more than <1Ciphres>1 in <1Algorisme.>1 But (lorde)
how sweetely doe they raue in theyr owne opinion: whan con-
stauntly they affirme there be worldes innumerable? Or whan
they take vpon theim to measure the sonne, the moone, the
planetes and theyr compasses, as it were by <2ynchmeale, or>2
<2drawne with a line:>2 Or whan they expounde the causes of thun-
der, of wyndes, of eclipses, and suche other inexplicable
thynges, nothyng doubtyng, as if they had crepte into natures
bosome, or were of counsaile with the Goddes. And yet dooeth
nature lowdely laughe theim to scorne, with all theyr coniec-
tures: coniectures I saie, and no certaine knowlage, whiche
appereth by [L<i4>i] this, that one secte of theim agreeth not with
an other, but rather contendeth togethers vpon euery little
thing. And yet these men, who in deede know nothing, wil take
vpon them to know all thyng. Yea wheras they know not theim
selues, nor see not oftentymes a pitte, or a stone liyng in theyr
waie, either for poreblyndnesse, or because theyr witte is not at
home, yet make thei theyr auaunt to see and perceiue plainely
theyr <1Idees,>1 theyr <2vniuersals, formes sefarate, fyrst mattiers,>2
<2quidditees,>2 and <2Ecceites,>2 thynges so subtile, and so fine, as not
<1Lynceus>1 hym selfe could espie theim out, though it be saied how
he could see through a stone walle. But than chiefely doe these
<1Philosophers>1 disdeigne other vulgar people, as often as with
<1triquetre,>1 and <1tetragon circles,>1 or with suche lyke <1Mathe->1
<1matical>1 figures, drawne one vpon an other, and entangled in
maner of a mase, with letters also set as it were in order of bat-
taile, and with lines drawne hither and thither, they dooe cast
a miste before simple folkes eies.
   And suche there want not also of this kynde of men, that take

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vpon theim by lokyng on the sterres, and planetes, to tell vs
aforehand, what shall happen and betide a hundred yeres after.
Declaryng by theyr <1Prognosticacions,>1 the successe of certeine
wonderous accidentes, straunger than any wychecrafte, or artma-
gike. Yet suche is their happe, to fynde out men, who of theyr sin-
gular grosnesse geue credence also to this their so plaine illusion.
  Now hauyng reached thus farre, and comen to the place of
<2doctours of diuinitee,>2 I stande in doubt whether I maie speake of
theim, or rather passe theim ouer, and not sturre at all theyr
pacience, beyng a neste of men so [L<i4>i<sv>s] crabbed and waspe-
lyke, lest els perchaunce thei shulde all at ones fall vpon me with
sixe hundred <1conclusions,>1 driuyng me to <1recant,>1 that in case
I refused so to doe, than wolde they by and by denounce me
for an heretike. For that is the thunderbolt, wherwithall they
threten suche, as stande not best in theyr fauour. But surely
although none other sorte of men dooe with lesse good will than
these, acknowlage my goodnesse vnto theim: Yet can I proue
these <1Doctours>1 also to be more than one <1or>1 two waies in my
daunger, beyng so propped vp with theyr owne <1Arrogance>1 and
<1Selflikyng,>1 as if thei dwelled amonges the sterres, or loked
downe from aloft, and in a maner toke compassion vppon other
seely men lyke wourmes crepyng by the grounde. Namely
whiles thei are hedged in on all sides, with suche a gard of
<1Magistral diffinicions, conclusions, corollaries, ex->1
<1plicite>1 and <1implicite proposicions,>1 with so many startyng
holes, as not <1Vulcanes nettes>1 were hable so fastly to holde
theim, but they wolde wynde theim selues out againe with
<1Distinctions,>1 wherwith thei carue al knottes asunder, as
smothely as a rasour dooeth the heares of a mans beard. Suche
a noumbre of newfounde monstrous terrnes haue they thicke
and threefolde inuented. Also whiles thei expounde the secrettes
of scripture at theyr pleasure, disputyng <2how the worlde was>2
<2fyrst create and froforcioned, by what chanels sinne was deriued>2

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<2into Adams fosteritee, what waies, by what measure, and in how>2
<2short sface Christ was comflete in the wombe of Marie the virgin:>2
<2And how in the sacrament of the altare, the accidentes of breade>2
<2and wyne, remaine whan the substance is goen:>2 but these questions
are for euerie young beginner. 0-[Mi]ther haue thei more
Sete <2for great and illuminate doctours,>2 whiche if at any tyme in
disputacions or talkyng after diner they doe stumble vpon,
straight thei shake of theyr slepie noddyng, and doe rowse
theim selfes. As, <2whether any instant was in the generacion of god>2
<2the secounde ferson? whether in Christ there be more filiacions>2
<2than one?>2 whether this proposicion be possible? <2God thefather,>2
<2hateth the sonne,>2 or <2whether Christ might fossiblie haue taken to>2
Sym <2the likenesse of a woman, of afeende, of an asse, or of a goorde?>2
<2Or how that goorde shoulde haue freached, doen miracles, or been>2
<2hanged on the crosse? Or what shoulde Peter haue consecrated, if>2
<2he had consecrated what time Christes body hunge on>2
<2Or whether Christ beyng transformed so into a goorde, might at>2
<2the same tyme be called man also? Or whether after the resurrec->2
<2tion it be leefullfor men to eate or drinke?>2 as who saith, prouidyng
for hungre and thurst afore hand. Innumerable suche fine toyes
haue they, muche more subtile than these, of <2Instantes, forma->2
<2litees, quidditees>2 and <2Ecceitees,>2 whiche no man I beleue could
espie out, vnlesse he were so clere eied, as to see out in a deepde
depe darkenesse those thinges that be no where. I maie adde
<1also>1 hereto their <2sentences or sawes,>2 whiche are so estraunge and
beyonde all expectacion, as the verie <1Stoikes sentences>1 called
<1Paradoxes,>1 beyng compared to theyrs, seme grosse, and more
than vulgar. (For exemple) <2Lesse sinne is it,>2 (saie they) <2to slea a>2
<2thousande men, than ones on a sondaie to clowte a foore mans shoe.>2
Or <2rather shoulde we let all the worlde goe to wreke bothe with>2
<2dogge and catte>2 (as they saie) <2than ones to make a lesyng, be the>2
<2mattier neuer so lyght.>2 Now againe, these theyr <2subtile subtilties,>2
doe they make yet more <1subtile,>1 through so many sortes of
<1Scholemen>1 as thei haue. [Miv] So that easier you shall finde
it to wind out of a mase, then out of their intricate names of

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<1Reales, Nominales, Thomistes, Albertistes, Occanistes>1
and <1Dunsmen,>1 yet these be not all, but the principal onely,
But turne you to whiche sect of them ye will, and ye shall proue
the same to be so cunnyng, so difficult, and so full of hiegh
<1Misteries,>1 as I wene the apostles theim selues had nede to be
enstructed by a new sprite, in case vpon these rnatters they were
compelled to argue with this new kynde of doctours. <1Paule>1
coulde expresse what faieth was: yet whan he saied thus, <2faieth>2
<2s the substance of thynges to be hofed after, and an euidence of>2
<2thynges not yet affearyng,>2 This <1Diffinicion>1 (saie they) was not       
<1Magistraliter (id est)>1 doctourlike sette foorth by hym. And,
as Paule coulde verie well teache what was <1Charitee,>1 so did he
not yet (saie thei) <2halfe lyke a Logicien either diffine, or deuide the>2
<2same,>2 in the fyrst epistle, and.xiii. chapitre to the <1Corinthiens.>1
The apostles likewyse did holily and deuoutly enough con-
secrate the sacrament of Christes bodie: and yet, who so had
apposed them in <1terminus a quo,>1 and <1terminus ad quem,>1
or in <2transubstanciacion, or by what meanes the selfe same body>2
<2of God may be in diuers flaces at ones? or of the difference thei>2
<2fut nowe betweene Christes bodie as it is in heauen, as it was on>2
<2the crosse, and in the sacrament of the altare:>2 Or <2at what instant>2
<2the transubstanciacion is made, seyng the fraier, by vertue wherof>2
<2it is made, is euer fassyng ouer as it is on saiyng?>2 These quaynt
questions (wene I) the apostles woulde neuer haue soluted with
lyke quickenesse of engin, as our <1Dunsmen>1 dooe bothe argue,
and diffine vpon the same. The apostles knew the virgin mother
of <1Iesus:>1 but whiche of them [M2] did euer expounde so
clerkly, how she was preserued from <1Originall sinne,>1 as our
doctours doe? Peter receiued heauen keies: <2yea receiued theim>2
<2at his handes>2 (saie they) <2that woulde neuer haue committed the>2
<2same to one vnwoorthie theim.>2 Now whether he knew so muche
or no, I can not tell: but this I am sure of, that he neuer touched
this narow poinct, <1how>1 it cometh to passe, <2that he also maie haue>2
<2the keie of science, who hath no science at all.>2 The apostles <1Bap->1
<1tized>1 euery where, and yet thei neuer taught what is the <1formal,>1

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<1material, efficient,>1 or <1finale>1 cause of <1Baptisme:>1 nor euer
made mencion of the <1character delible>1 and <1indelible.>1 The
apostles praied, but praied in the sprite, folowyng that saiyng
of the gospell, <2God is a sfrite, and who so woorship hym, must>2
<2worship all in the sfrite, and in trouthe.>2 But now it appeareth,
that it was not than reveled vnto theim, how we ought with all
one praier, and lyke reuerence, woorship an <1Image>1 drawne
perhaps with a cole on the wall, as if the same were Christ hym
selfe.So it be made with.ii. blissing fyngers of the right hand
streched out, and a ball in the other, with longe heare sheded
and a coronet in maner of a platter vpon his noddle, decked with
thre sonnebeames. For who is he so pregnant witted, that might
euer grope out these misteries, vnles he had spent whole xxxvi.
yeeres togethers in studiyng the <1Physicals>1 and <1Vltramun->1
<1dans>1 of <1Duns,>1 and <1Aristotle?>1 The apostles also preached
grace vnto the people: but yet they neuer made so narow dis-
tinction betwene <1gratia gratis data,>1 and <1gratia gratificans.>1
They exhorted men to good woorkes, yet neuer put difference
betwene <1opus operans,>1 and <1opus operatum.>1 Thei bydde vs
in many [M2<sv>s] places kepe charitee: but neuer deuide the same
into <1Charitas infusa,>1 and <1Charitas operata,>1 nor expound
not whether it be an accident, or a <1suhstance,>1 a <1create,>1 or
an <1vncreate>1 thyng. Thei dishort vs from sinne, but I renie my
selfe, if euer they coulde cunningly diffine, what that shoulde
be,  we call sinne? Vnlesse thei were inspyred with the sprite
of these <1Duns doctours.>1 For I can neuer beleue, that Paule,
vpon whose writyng we maie gesse what mynde the other
apostles had therin, woulde euer so often haue reproued and
condempned, such <1questions, disputacions, genealogies,>1
and <1conflictes>1 of <1woordes>1 (as he calleth theim) in case him
selfe had euer been instructed in theyr fine <1quidditees.>1
Namely in as muche as all the contencions, and debates in
arguyng, whiche chaunced in his tyme, were but blunte <ithat>i
verie grosse, in comparison of these twise syfted subtilt
our <1Maister doctours>1 vse now a daies. How be it they can so
muche theyr good, that where in any place they finde ought
Written by the apostles not <1formally,>1 and <1Magistraliter,>1 that
they reproue not, but handsomely rather dooe interpretate it

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as best serueth for theyr purpose: bearyng (as who saieth) thus
muche reuerence partly to the antiquitee, and partly to the name
of apostleship. And surely it were to muche to requyre so hiegh
mattiers at the apostles handes, who neuer heard one worde
therof mencioned by theyr maister Christ. But in case they take
either <1Chrysostome, Basile,>1 or <1Hierome>1 with the lyke
trippe, than they take it sufficient for theim to subscribe, <2that>2
<2they allow it not.>2 And yet those ancient good fathers, rather
through theyr holie life and miracles, than by any [M3] <1argu->1
<1mentes>1 and <1Syllogismes,>1 confuted bothe <1Ethenikes,>1 and
<1Philosophers,>1 and Iewes, beyng bent of nature to stubbour-
nesse, yea and those also, neuer a one of whom were able to
compasse and vnderstande the lest <1quodlibet>1 of <1Duns.>1 But
now, haue ye any painem, or heretike, that will not geue place
and yelde straight to so many fine fine argumentes of our
maister doctors? Vnlesse he were so grosse, that he wiste not
what they ment? or so shamelesse to hisse at theim? or rather
fensed with lyke armour? so that now they were matches, as <2if>2
<2ye shulde set one enchaunter against an other, or an Olyuer for>2
<2a Roland.>2 For than the battaile were euer new to beginne. And
surely in my iudgement christen princes shoulde doe politikely,
in stede of these bendes of grosse Lansknightes, who not seel-
dome (prouffe sheweth) dooe speede as well euill as better, to
arme, and sende foorth all these baulyng <1Dunsmen,>1 and stub-
bourne <1Occanistes,>1 and inuincible <1Albertistes,>1 together with
the whole rablement of <1Sophistrers,>1 against the Turkes and
Sarasins. They shoulde see (I thynke verily) a strange kynde of
skyrmisshe, with suche a victorie as neuer was heard of. For-
who is he so colde herted, that would not straight be enflamed
with theyr pregnant deuises? Or who is he so blunt, and restiue,
that could not with theyr pickant spurres be quickened? Or
who so clere sighted, that maie not with suche darke mistes as
they cast, be blynded?
  But allthis perchaunce ye wene I speake halfe in mocage. And
truely no meruaile. Seeyng euin amonges these <1Diuines>1 ye
shall fynde out some suche, as beyng institute in a better trade
of learnyng, dooe lothe, and abhorre suche riddles and <1So->1

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[M3v]phistical trifles of these <1Dunsmen.>1 Some other againe
that dooe curse and detest the same, as a kinde of <1Sacrilege,>1
estemyng it plaine wickednesse and impietee, to speake so
vnreuerently by so hiegh secretes of <1Scripture,>1     whiche reather
we shoulde haue in veneracion, than after suche rate goe about
to expounde theim, or with so prophane <1Ethnical prohlemes>1
to dispute vpon theim, or arrogantly diffine theim, defilyng and
bespottyng the maiestee of holy scripture with so cold, naie
rather filthie woordes and sentences.
   But this notwithstandyng, the other coddes heddes in the
meane while stande moste pleasauntly in theyr owne grace, or
verilier stroke theim selues on the head. So that occupiyng them
selues bothe nightes and daies, about these foolisshe toyes, they
haue neuer thus muche leisure, ones to reade ouer the gospell, or
Paules epistles: and yet in triflyng out the tyme thus in theyr
scholes, they beleue verily it is they, that proppe vppe holy
churche, whiche els shoulde goe to ruine, none otherwise with
their <1Syllogismes,>1 than poetes feigne that <1Atlas>1 the geaunt sus-
teigneth heauen vpon his shoulders. But now, how lordly is their
felicitee (trow ye) whiles thei take vpon theim to forme and re-
fourme holy scripture at their pleasure, as if it were a nose of
waxe, or a Welshemans hose ? and whiles they woulde their
conclusions, wherunto a certaine of some vniuersitee haue sub-
scribed, shoulde be holden for more than estatutes, yea more
fyrme and inuiolable, than the bishop of Romes <1Decretals?>1
And whiles also like iudges ouer the whole worlde, they call
eche thyng to <1recantacion,>1 that one heare bredth disagreeth
from theyr <1explicite,>1 and <1im- [M4]plicite conclusions:>1
Pronouncyng as if it came from a prophetes rnouthe, how <2this>2
<2profosicion is sklaunderous, this not reuerent, this smelleth of the>2
<2fagote, this soundeth naught.>2 So that now a daies, not <1Baptisme,>1
nor the gospell, nor paule, ne Peter, nor Hierome, ne Augustine,
nor yet Thomas of Alquyne, who is euin Aristotles heyre and
one hand, are able to make a man christian, vnlesse these father

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bachelars of diuinitee, dooe vouchesaue to subscribe vnto the
same. So narow and profounde iudgement haue thei, in dis-
cussyng of all maner doubtes.  For who would euer haue
thought hym to be of no catholyke beleefe, that affyrmed these
 two saiynges, <1matula putes,>1 and <1matula putet:>1 also <1ollae>1
<1feru$ere,>1 and <1ollam feru%ere,>1 to be bothe congruent, vnlesse
these wisemen had taught vs the contrarie? Or who els might euer
haue ridde the churche from so great darkenesse of errours, whiche
no man I thinke wold euer haue redde, or loked on, vnlesse they
vnder the great seales of their vniuersitees, had in condemnyng
discouered theim? But are they not most blisfull (trow ye) whiles
they busie theim selues hereabout? and moreouer whiles they
descriue and peincte vnto vs all thynges dooen in hell, so exactly
as if many yeres they had seiourned in the diuels court? Or
whiles as liketh theim they doe builde new heauens, addyng also
one heauen set aboue all the other, most fayre and rowmie, least
els perchance sainctes soules shoulde haue no elbowroome to
walke, or bankette, or plaie attenes also if theim listed. With these,
and with two thousande suche other trifles, are theyr heades so
stuffed, and swolne vppe, as not <1Iupiters>1 head (trow I) was euer.
so pestred, what tyme he bo-[M4v]rowed <1Vulcanes axe>1 to hewe
<1Pallas>1 out of his braine. And therfore haue ye no meruaile at all,
though at their <1Actes>1 and <1Comencementes>1 ye dooe see theim
swadled in with so many cappes, coyues, and furde hodes as they
weare, for els I thinke plainely theyr heades wolde riue asunder.
One thyng, I my selfe am wonte to laugh at, so often as I here
theim speake theyr barbarous brasse latine, wherin natheles
they wolde be compted most doctourlike. That whan they
fumble it out in suche a sort, as none but fumblers as thei, may
vnderstande theim, yet dooe they call it a certaine grace and
finesse, whiche euerie body can not attaine vnto. For (saie they)
it is not for the dignitee of holie writte, our profession, that we
shoulde be compelled to folow any grammer rules: whiche
surely (so beyng) is a great maiestee of these <1Duns doctours,>1
if to theim onely it be lawfull to speake false latine, notwith-

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standing that many coblers and clowters can doe that as well as
thei. Lastly now, they take theim selues in a maner for Gods
peres, whan they are saluted solemnely by the name of maister
doctours, or <1Magister noster:>1 wherin thei wene lyke misterie
to be included, as the Iewes saie there is in <2TETpoyp~VVa?ov:>2
and therfore they affyrme it to be a muche great offence, if
one doe write, <1MAGISTER NOSTER>1 otherwyse than with
great letters, that and if ye tourne the woordes, saiyng <1noster>1
<1Magister,>1 in steede of <1Magister noster,>1 than all at ones ye
disorder the maiestee of the <1Theological>1 narne.
  Now next vnto the felicitee of these maister doctours, suche
dooe aproche as people calle <1Reliffious men,>1 and <1Monkes,>1
that is to saie, solitarie liuers, but by bothe names euill [Ni]
applied: seyng the greatest part of them are most farre from
religion, and none so commenly shall you mete rouyng abrode,
euin in euery alehouse. Whose trade and obseruaunce surely
were most miserable and abiect, vnlesse that I did many waies
releue them. For though this kynde of men be commenly so
abhorred, as euin to mete with theim at vnwares, or next a
bodies risyng, it is taken for a signe of euill lucke all the daie
after: yet (lorde) how they make theim selues to be more than
<1Cherubyns.>1 For fyrst they hold it a great holinesse, to medle so
little with bookes, and learnyng, as scarce they know how to
read theyr owne names. And whan they rore foorth (lyke a meny
of asses) in theyr monasteries, a noumbre of psalmes not vnder-
standed, than they wene verily to fede sainctes eares with a
meruailous melodie. Moreouer, some orders of them (namely
<1Friers)>1 dooe take a pride in theyr beggerie, in goyng from dore
to dore to axe theyr breade with a great lowyng voyce, pestryng
men euery where, bothe in innes, in wagens, and in passengers,
not a little (I promise you) to the hyndrance of other begsters.
And thus (loe) the blinde minions, what with theyr gresinesse,
doltisshenesse, rudenesse, and shamelesse hangyng on men,
dooe represent vnto vs (as theim selues saie) the life of the
apostles. But is it not a comelinesse (trow ye) whan they dooe

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all thynges by certaine <1presidentes>1 of theyr orders, muche
lyke <1Mathematicall rules,>1 whiche in no wyse without offence,
they maie alter, or swerue fro. As for example, <2how many wyn->2
<2dowes they muste make to theyr shooes? what colour, and noumbre>2
<2of knottes goeth to their gurdelles? with what difference, and wherof>2
<2must their wedes be>2 [Ni<sv>s] <2made? of what breadth their lether>2
<2thounges? how many busshelfuls their coules? how many ynches>2
<2longe, their notted heare? and how many houresfor slefyng?>2 Now
who is he that seeth not how vnequall this equalitee of theyrs
is, namely in suche a diuersnesse of bodies, and disposicions?
Yet vnder confidence of these trifles, they not onely set laie
men as light as butterflies, but euin amonges theim selues despise
eche other. So that for all the apostolyke charitee, whiche thei
professe, ye shall not see them sticke to fall together by the eares,
either for a gurdell of a contrary facion, or a garment sornewhat
of a browner or lighter colour. Yea, some of theim beyng of a
straighter rule, are so sore punisshers of theyr flesshe, as out-
wardly they weare naught but sacke clothe, and inwardly no
better than fine holland. Some others againe dare as soone
touche poyson as money, neuer the more forbearyng from
wyne, nor contrectacion of women. Finally all theyr delite is to
accorde in no poinct as touchyng the rules of theyr religions.
Nor they loke not how to resemble Christe, but sooner how
amonges theim selues to be dissemblable: estemyng further a
great parte of theyr felicitee to consiste in the names of theyr
orders. For some of them reioise to be called <1grey friers,>1 some
white, these <1Colletes,>1 thei <1Minors,>1 other <1Obseruauntes,>1
other <1Crossed,>1 some <1Benedictines,>1 some <1Bernardines,>1 these
<1Carmelites,>1 those <1Augustines,>1 these <1Guilhelmites,>1 those
<1Iacobites etc. As>1 who saieth it were to sklender a name for
theim to be called bare Christians. Now againe moste part of
theim are so geuin to their ceremonies, and tradicions of men,
as maketh theim wene, that one heauen is not [N2] a condigne,
and sufficient rewarde for so great merites of theyrs, little re-
membring that Christe, nothyng regardyng theyr supersticions,
will onely call to accompt how they haue obserued his precept of

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charitee. Here one of theim (maie chance) will for his discharge
<2shew foorth a trowgh stuffed full of all kynde offisshe.>2 An other,
<2will foure foorth an hundred quarters of fsalmes.>2 An other, <2will>2
<2noumbre vf millions offastynges, castyng God in the tethe, that so>2
<2often with eatyng but one meale a daie, his belie was nere burst.>2
An other, <2will bringe foorth whole fackes of ceremonies, so many>2
<2as scarce might be freyghted in.vii. great hulkes.>2 An other, <2will>2
<2make his auaunt, that who1e.1x. yeeres togethers he neuer touched>2
<2Money, but (at least) his handes were fensed with two faire of>2
<2gloues.>2 An other, <2will shewe foorth his cowle, or scafularie so>2
<2sweatie, and full of grese, as no mariner would gladly fut it on.>2
An other, <2will saie that sins time of his nouiceship he neuer fassed>2
<2the bandes of his cloyster, muche like a sfonge cleuyng euer to one>2
<2place.>2 An other, <2that he is hoarce with daiely singyng.>2 An other,
<2how through to muche solitarinesse, he is fallen into a benummed->2 is
<2nesse.>2 An other, <2how his tounge throughe continuall silence hath>2
<2loste his vse.>2 But Christ interruptyng theyr <1Selfebostes,>1 whiche
els woulde neuer take ende, <2whence cometh>2 (will he saie) <2this>2
<2new race of Iewes? I dooe acknowlage but one lawe and rule for>2
<2myne, wherof I here neuer a woorde sfoken. For whilom flainly,>2
and <2by no shadow of farables, I fromised my fathers kyngdome>2
<2not to Cowles, nor Rosaries, nor set fastynges, but rather to the>2
<2woorkes of charitee.: nor I know none suche, as to muche know their>2
<2owne good woorkes. These men woulde be coumfted holier than my>2
<2seife.: let them dwell therfore if thei list in Pasquilles heauen. Or dooe>2
<2they cause those to frefare>2 [N2<sv>s] <2a new heauen for theim, whose>2
<2tradicions thei haue freferred before my freceftes.>2 Now whan they
here Christe saie thus, and see bothe carters, and ploughmen,
preferred before theim, with what countenance (suppose ye)
will one of theim beholde an other?
   Natheles in the meane tyme they are happie in theyr owne
hope, not without my helpe largely employed on theim.
Specially seyng for all they are dead (as they saie) to this worlde,
no man dare yet contemne theim, and lest of all friers, in as
muche as they are maisters of mens secretes by vertue of that

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thei call <1confession:>1 whiche secretes thei coumpt it great sinne
to discouer, vnlesse at some tymes hauyng tasted a little of the
ale, thei thynke good to recreate theim selues with sportyng tales
a crasshe, onely by coniectures and lykelihoodes to poincte you
to the thyng, suppressyng yet mens names of theyr modestie.
That and if any man sterreth vp these hornettes, than in ser-
mons to the people haue they a readie waie to wreke theyr tene,
by touchyng theyr ennemies not directly, but in <1parables,>1 so
closely I warrant you, as no man could not perceiue theim, but
if he perceiued nothyng at all. And neuer will they make an
ende of barkyng till some fatte morsell be cast them, to stoppe
their mouthes.
  But who in the meane while wolde not gladlier behold one
of these frier preachers how they counterfeicte the <1Rhetori->1
<1ciens>1 in their <1sermons>1 (lowsely god knoweth) but yet fetely
folowyng those rules that <1Oratours>1 leue written of the <2Arte>2 
<2of pronouncyng>2 than any stage plaier, or Italian pardoner?
Good lorde, what straunge iestures they frame? how they singe
theyr woordes? how they caste theyr armes hither and thither?
how they [N3] chaunge the copie of their countenaunces? how
they mingle all thynges with outcries? whiche theyr saied arte
in preachyng, conueied by one frier to an other, as it were from
hande to hand, for a muche priuey thyng, all be it vnleefull for
me to know, yet I shall make you a gesse at it as nere as I can.
  In the beginnyng therefore of theyr sermons, they vse some
<1Inuocacion,>1 but that they borow of the <1Poetes.>1 Than admitte
theyr <1Theme>1 renne on charitee, they fetche theyr proheme
from <1Nilus>1 the great riuer in <1Aegypt.>1 Or entendyng to ex-
pounde the misterie of the crosse, they beginne aptly with
<1Beel>1 the dragon of <1Babylon.>1 Or disputyng of fastyng, they
fetche theyr race from the.xii. signes of the <1Zodiake. Or>1 pur-
posyng to speake of faieth, they make a longe preamble <2how a>2
<2circle in Geometrie maie be made quadrate.>2 I my selfe heard ones

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a solemne lowte, (I crie you mercie) a solemne learned man
I shoulde haue saied, who in his sermon, before a great assem-
blie, takyng vpon him to declare the mistery of the <1Trinitee,>1
to the ende he myght bothe shew his learnyng to the people,
and satisfie the eares of some doctours there present, toke a new
fetche in his mattier. For what from <1Ietters,>1 to <1sillables,>1 and
to <1dictions,>1 and than the <1concordes>1 betwene the <1Nowne>1 and
the <1Verbe,>1 the <1Nowne adiectiue>1 and <1Substantiue>1 (diuers
of the audience now meruailyng, and saiyng to theim selues,
what the diuell ayleth he) at last he brought it to this passe, that
<2he shewed thefigure of the whole trinitee to be so ex>2
<2and exfressed in the rules of grammer, as no geometriy describe>2
<2flainlier draw it with his finger in the duste.>2 Whiche sermon the
saied doctourlike doctour [N3v? whole eyght monthes together
so ernestly had sweatte about, as vntill this daie he is as pore-
blinde as a betle. And no meruaile, seyng he drew vp all the
sharpenesse of his eie sight, to the poinct of his engin: but for
all that he nothyng forthinketh his blindnesse, rather takyng
the same for to chepe a price of suche a glorie as he wanne
therby. Lykewise, not longe agone I was present at the sermon
of an other famous doctour, beyng almost.8o. yeres old, and
therto so doctourlike, as if <1Duns>1 were new arisen in hym, who
entendyng to disclose the misterie of the name of <1Iesu,>1 with
great subtiltee shewed, how euin in <2the verie letters was as muche>2
<2pithe included, as might be gathered therof.>2 For whereas it is
declinable but in three cases, as <1Iesus, Iesum Iesu,>1 that
(saied he) <2was a manifest refresentacion of th>2
because the fyrst terminacion of <1Iesus>1 endeth in <1S,>1 the secounde
in <1M,>1 the thyrde in <1V,>1 thereby laie a right secrete misterie, in as
muche (quod he) <2as the verie letters dooe declare that Iesus, is>2
<1Summus, Medius, and Vltimus,>1 (that is) the fyrste, the
middest, and the last. An other mistery he alleged farre more
strange than these, diuidyng this woorde Iesus as it were by
<1geometrie>1 into two egall partes, leuyng <1S,>1 in maner of a stick-
ler in the middle: whiche letter in the Hebrews <1A B C>1, is W,
and thei call it <1Syn.>1 <2Now synne>2 (quod he) <2in englisshe is as muche>2

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<2to saie as a deadly offence against God.: so hereby it afpeared, that>2
<2Iesus was the stickler or mediatour, that toke on hym the synnes of>2
<2this worlde.>2 This so strange and farre fetched a beginnyng, all
men did gape at so, chiefely the doctours there present, as little
lacked that they were not chaunged throughe a-[N4]stonned-
nesse into stones as poetes feigne by <1Niobes:>1 wheras I for rny
parte through laughter, had almoste let goe a skape, as <1Priapus>1
did for feare of the.ii. witches <1Canidia,>1 and <1Sagana,>1 whan it
chaunced hym to see their sorceries by night season: and who
could haue blamed me if I hadde so dooen? For whan didde
euer <1Demosthenes>1 or <1Cicero,>1 vse the lyke farre fetche in any
of theyr oracions? Thei toke that <1Proheme>1 to be faultie, whiche
hunge not apliablie with the reste of theyr matter: as who
saieth, there be any man so grosse that euin of nature is not
instructed to dooe so muche. But my <1doctours>1 now adaies take
their <1preamble>1 (so they call it) to be most <1Rhetorical,>1 whan
it ioigneth lest with any other part of theyr <1Theme:>1 whiche
maketh the hearer, meruailyng at the estrangenesse of the deuise
oftentymes to muttre to him selfe, <2now whither the diuell wilt>2
<2thou.>2 Thyrdly in stede of a <1narracion,>1 they expounde somewhat
of the gospell, but that very briefely, and shortely passed ouer,
wheras they ought to entreate therof onely, all theyr sermon
through. In the fourth place, fallyng as it were into a new
mattier, thei moue some doctorall question, sometyme suche <2as>2
<2toucheth neither heauen nor earth,>2 whiche they take yet to serue
muche to theyr purpose. And here (loe) they beginne to spreade
theyr armes, in allegyng auctoritees out of <2solemne doctours,>2
<2subtile doctours, most subtile doctours, seraphicall doctours, holy>2
<2doctours, irrefragable doctours,>2 and suche other goodly bigge
names of theyr <1Schole pillers.>1 And here thei spowte out theyr
<1Syllogismes,>1 theyr <1maiors, minors,>1 and <1conclusions,>1
theyr <1corollaries,>1 and most balde <1supposicions,>1 with suche
other trifles be-[N4<sv>s]fore the rude people, as if they were in
theyr most ruffe disputyng <1Pro et contra>1 in theyr <1Scholes.>1

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Resteth now the fifte <1Acte>1 or parte, wherein it behoueth them
to shew foorth all their cunnyng and <1profunditee.>1 Here now
(maie chaunce) they come foorth with some foolisshe tale taken
out of <1Vitas patrum,>1 or <1gesta Romanorum,>1 moralisyng the
same bothe <1Allegorically, Tropologically,>1 and <1Anagogi->1
<1cally.>1 And thus muche after this rate dooe they knitte vp all
theyr <1Chimera,>1 or straunge shapen beast, with sundrier sortes
of formes and facions, than euer <1Horace>1 described it, in the
beginnyng of his boke <1De arte poetica.>1 But they haue learned,
I wotte neuer of whom, that the entrie and beginnyng of an
<1oracion>1 must be caulmely vttred without any lowde voyce, or
<1exclamacion.>1 So they therfore beginne theyr <1preambles>1 so
stilly, as scarce they can here theyr owne voices, perhaps be-
<1cause>1 it auaileth theim to speake somewhat, that none shoulde
vnderstande. They haue heard also how criynges out must
sometymes be vsed to moue vppe mens affections: and therfore
speakyng a pretie while all stilly, euin at a brunt they fall into
a skrekyng keie, and fill mens eares with a criyng shrillenesse,
where they haue least nede at all. Moreouer because they haue
redde in <1Rhetorike>1   bokes, that an <1Oracion>1 shoulde somewhat
kindle, and waxe hote in processe of argumentes, They, in euery
part of theyr <1Sermons,>1 the entrie into the same beyng some-
what more demurely pronounced, by and by dooe fall into a
wonderous lowde chafyng voyce, be the mattier they entreate of
neuer so colde, and leaue of so, as if theyr brethes failed theim.
Last-[Oi]ly hauyng vnderstode, that <1Rhetoriciens>1 geue cer-
taine preceptes of laughter sterryng, they also peine theim selues
to enterlace theyr <1Sermons>1 with some mery conceites: but (0
the will of god) how full of grace be the same? and how aptly
brought in theyr right places? <2as if an asse were set to flaie on a>2
<2gyttarne.>2 Sometymes also they fare as they woulde nippe folke
with theyr <1quippies,>1 but so feinctly (god knoweth) as rather
thei dooe ticle, than pynche depelier. But neuer dooe thei flatter
more kyndly, than whan thei pretende to speake most frely, and
without respecte. Finally all theyr cast in preachyng is suche, as
a man wolde sweare thei had gone to schole with these <1Cere->1
<1tans,>1 suche as in <1Italie>1 are wont in markette places standyng

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on stalles, or where thei maie be seen best, to preache vnto the
people in commendacion of some pardone, feigned medecines,
or suche lyke toyes of theyr owne inuencion, to gette money
withall, and bleare the simples eies. Whiche <1Ceretans>1 natheles
doe farre passe theim in theyr grace: All be it (to speake in-
differently) the one of theim is so lyke the other, as none will
doubt, but either they haue learned at those, or those at these
againe. But what nede these my frier preachers to passe theron?
seeyng through my procurement thei neuer misse of suche, as
in hearyng theim, beleue verily they heare <1Demosthenes,>1 and
<1Ciceros>1 matches: of whiche opinion chiefely be merchauntes,
and good wiues, whose eares and likyng, friers dooe wholy
studie to satisfie. For merchauntes in case they be handsomely
glosed, are wonte to geue theim in <1Commendum>1 some porcion
of theyr misgotten goodes, and women besides many other
consideraci-[oiv]ons are specially enclined to theim, for that
they are wont to poure into theyr bosomes what euer euill will
they beare in theyr hertes against theyr husbandes.
  Thus, ye consider (I trow) how muche this race of <1Religious>1
<1men,>1 is endebted vnto me, whan now with theyr <1Ceremonies>1
and fonde fantesies of theyr owne, now with theyr baulyng and
criyng out in pulpites, they dooe exercise a maner tyrannie
amonges men, and woulde be coumpted for more than <1Paules,>1
or <1Antonies.>1 But seeyng they be suche iuglers, as can no lesse
vnkyndely dissemble, and seeme not to acknowlage my benefites
employed on theim, than they are otherwise craftilie counter-
feictours of holinesse, I holde it best to speake no more of theim.
   For I longe sore a little now to treate of kynges and princes
liues, who most plainely and gentilmanly, as gentilmen, dooe
enterteine me. Wheras if thei considred well what belongeth to
theyr estates, now I see not what life might be more carefull
than theyrs, nor lesse to be desyred. For suche shall neuer thinke
that a kyngdome shoulde either by vsurpacion, or any other

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  wrongfull title be sought for, as dooe waie with theim selues,
  what a charge he susteigneth on his shoulders, that rightly will
  execute the office of a prince: who takyng vpon hirn the rule of
  thynges dooeth now administer not his owne, but rather the
  affaires of many, wherby he shulde thinke of naught els but the
  commen weale: obseruyng iustly the lawes, wherof he is bothe
  founder, and ouerseer, to the ende his vprightnesse, and in-
  tegritee maie be a president to his vnderrulers and officers,
  whan either beyng iuste and vertuous, like a blisfull sterre of
  lucky aspecte he [02] maie bringe bothe health and coumfort
  to all his subiectes, or otherwyse, lyke a pestilent <1Com>1
  theyr ruine and destruction. In as muche as meaner rnennes
  vicesbe not so muche marked, nor so largely diuulged. But a
  prince is set in that place, where as if he wrie him selfe neuer so
  little from that becometh hym, straight waies the infection of
  the exemple crepeth contagiously to many men. Besydes that,
  how muche more the height of a princes fortune maie be a
  meanes to peruert hym from the right trade, either through
  pleasure, libertee, adulacion, or delicatenesse, so muche the
  warelier shoulde he resist theim, watchyng diligently, lest at any
  tyme beyng seduced, he dooe swerue from his duitee. And
  lastly (omittyng treasons, hatredes, and other perilles or dreades,
  wherwith a prince is infested) if he remembre how the dome
  also of the heighest, and most rightfull kyng of all, hangeth ouer
  his head, who soone after will call hym to accoumpte for the
  least faulte he hath doen, yea and that the narowlier, the greater
  state he had committed to hym: These thynges, (I saie) and
  many like hereto, if a prince do perpende wel, (and perpende
  theim he must nedes if he hath wisedome) I beleue surely he
  shoulde take his slepe and fode, with lesse gladnesse, than a farre
  meaner person dooeth.
     But now, how many princes haue you, whiche through my
  procurement, remittyng all care and charge hereof to the goddes,
  dooe for the most parte onely tende theyr owne pleasure? So
  that admitte we feigne now the image of some one prince, suche
  as not seeldome hath been, a man (for exemple) vnskilled in the
  lawes, enemie in a maner to the commen weale, geuin onely to

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his [O<i2>i<sv>s] peculier profite, addicted all to voluptuousnesse, an
hater of learnyng, an hater of libertee, and of the trueth, caryng
nothyng lesse than for the aduauncement of his countrey, but
rather appliyng all thynges to his owne pleasure and commo-
ditee. And now (on gods name) geue hym a chayne about his
necke, for token that all vertues shoulde agreablie be en-
chayned in hym: geue hym also a crowne frette with perle and
stone, in signe he ought to excelle others in all princely vertues:
than a sceptre in his hand betokennyng iustice with an vpright
mynde on all sydes: lastly a Robe of purpre, whiche signifieth
zeale and feruent affection towarde his subiectes: I his maner
apparaile (I saie) if that prince shulde duely conferre with his
liuyng, I wene he wold be ashamed to weare it, fearyng lest
some fine expositor myght tourne all his pompe and solemnesse
of royall robes into a derision: namely whan he hath no maner
part of a prince in hym, sauyng onely the clothyng.
  Now lykewyse what saie you to <1Courtiers?>1 these minion
gaibeseen gentilmen, who beyng for the most part as fawnyng,
as seruile, as witlesse, and as abiect as can be deuised, woulde be
taken yet amonges all men for the principall. But although theyr
pride in other poynctes excedeth, yet herein surely they shew
a great modestee, whan beyng contented to haue theyr bodies
outwardly garnisshed with golde, with gemmes, with silkes, and
with other representacions of vertue and wysedome, they geue
ouer the studie, and vse of the thynges selfe to other men, not
caryng how they leaue theyr myndes naked, without any appa-
raile of disciplines: reputyng theim selues moste happie, for that
[03] they haue learned the phrase of courte speche, at euery
woorde to choppe in these goodly titles of honour, <2your noble>2
<2grace, your royall hieghnesse, your excellent maiestee:>2 and that
theyr faces lyke visers will blusshe at nothyng: and finally that
in bourdyng, and in flyryng, thei can flatter pleasauntly. For
these be the qualitees they holde most mete for a kynde gentil-
man, and rufler of the courte. But nowe who so narowlier

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woulde approche,   and enserche theyr trade of liuyng, shoulde
fynde theim I warrant you, to be more blunte and vnwittie, than
uer were the auncient people of <1Phoeacia,>1 and ther
issolute than those wowers were that desyred <1Penelopes>1 in
ariage. <1Sponsi Penelopes,>1 ye know what foloweth in the
verse, whiche I had rather that <1Eccho>1 (as she euer doeth the
later woordes) shoulde declare vnto you, than I. These my hog-
lynges slepe euery daie till midnoone, and hauyng euin yet
heyr eies full of slepe, thei sende than for some huntyng chap-
eine, who whiles thei are in makyng ready, or rather risyng out
f theyr beddes, maie slynge theim vp a post masse. In the necke
whereof commes theyr breakefast, and that scantly finisshed, go
they to diner. After that to the dyse, to tables, to cardes, or to
boules, nowe with iesters, nowe with fooles, now with courti-
sanes, daunces, and daliaunces to trifle out the tyme, not with
ut one, or two collacions afore supper, and after supper theyr
ankettes one vpon an other. And thus without felyng any
tediousnesse of theyr life, thei passe easily ouer, bothe houres,
daies, monthes, yeres, and whole ages. In sort that I my selfe
am not seeldome throughe hauntyng with theim [03<sv>s] made
the fatter, and gladly woulde neuer part company, sauyng that
sometyme, seyng how amonges the damoysels and <1Madames>1
of the court they shew theim selues in theyr mastresses colours,
and commenly dooe vaunt theim selues of that they haue not,
or neuer did, I can not kepe my selfe from laughter. Moreouer
seyng how amonges those <1Nymphes>1 and <1Madames,>1 eche
reputeth hir selfe the more woorthie of honour and estate, the
longer taile she traineth after hir. Seeyng also how the ge
of the court dooe shoue one an other, and prease for a shew of
estimacion to be nexte theyr prince, as who saieth depeliest in
his fauour. And seyng lastly how thei stande in theyr owne con-
ceite, much estemyng theim selues, as the more worthy a cappe
and reuerence, the greatter chaynes thei haue, as if thei desyred
not onely to shew their richesse in wearyng them, but also theyr
strength of shoulders in bearyng theim.

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   But now (on goddes halfe) lenger than of late daies, <1Pope>1
<1holie>1 fathers of Rome, <1Skarlet cardinals,>1 and <1blessyng>1
<1bishops,>1 haue not onely folowed the steppes of princes, as
touchyng theyr pompe and magnificence, but dooen also what
s they can to surpasse theim. Yet surelie if a <1bishop>1 perpended
with hym selfe, what is ment by the linen rochet so purely of
white that he weareth? Mary that his liuyng likewise shoulde
be nete, and cleane from any spotte of sinne: Or if he thought
thus, that his mytre beyng deuided so into two hornes, eche
typpe wherof is with the lyke knobbe gathered together, were
set for a figure of the perfect knowlage he ought to haue bothe
in the olde and new <1Testament: Or>1 if he wiste that the gloues
on his handes did signi-[O4]fie, how he ought as purely, and
without any soyle of woordlinesse to administer the sacra-
mentes: And how his crosiers staffe admonished him of the-
wakery charge he shoulde take ouer his flocke: And how his
crosse borne before hym (be he an archebishop) pretended vic-
torie ouer all woordlie affections: These figures (I saie) and
many lyke hereto, in case a bishop did conster and conferre
accordyngly, I beleue he could not chose but leade an heauie
and carefull life: Yea but at these dais (I can tel you) thei take
as little thought herefore, as all theyr thought is how they maie
fayre fede theim selues, remittyng all care of theyr flocke vnto
Christe, or rather resignyng the same to suche as they call their-
vicares, and <1Suffragans. In>1 whiche case they remembre little
theyr name. For <1Episcopus,>1 is as muche to saie, as a super-
intendent or wacheman, who busily tended and toke hede to
his charge and commission. How be it (in dede) as touchyng
fisshyng for money, and heapyng vp of treasour bagges, they
furnisshe fully that theyr names importeth, and therin shew
theim selves to be no blinde wachemen.
   Moreouer, if <1Cardinals>1 likewise did consider (seyng thei
chalenge to succede in the apostles places) how at theyr handes
also is requyred that sanctitee and perfection, that the apostles

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were of: And further, how they are no lordes, but rather
stewerdes and administratours of spirituall giftes and graces, for
he whiche soone after they must duely and exactly render
accoumpte: Yea if they did but argue a whyle vnto theim selues
vpon theyr garmentes, and thinke thus: pardie the whitenesse,
and pure netenesse of this rochet I weare on, signifieth how-
[04<sv>s] I also shoulde leade a pure and ryght innocent life. This
cramoysen gowne,   whiche I haue vnderneth it, admonissheth
me I shoulde be as feruently enflamed in the loue of god. This
nter robe also beyng so large and so longe trained, as suffiseth
o ouerspred myne, the most <2reuerendefathers moyle,>2 were she as
lofty as any camell, doeth it not pretende, that charitee shulde
abound, and be so largely spreadde in me, as I shoulde offre
my selfe to helpe and releue all men? be it in teachyng, exhort-
yng, coumfortyng,  rebukyng, or aduertisyng my euen Christen:
or be it in appeasyng of warres betwene countreis, or resistyng
of wicked princes, yes or in spendyng of my bloudde for
Christes sake, muche more my worldly goodes, with a gladde
hert: How be it I see not by reason, what I shoulde dooe with
worldly goodes, I  that take vpon me wholy to imitate and re-
present the apostles, who like good soules went poorely and
barefooted. These thynges (I saie) if <1Cardinals>1 did consider
and take well to hert, they wolde not gape so gredily after that
dignitee, naie willynglier woulde refuse it, or at lest, as did the
<1Primitiue apostles,>1 leade a trauailsome and carefull life, in
attendyng to their offices.
      Moreouer if these thrise holy fathers, <1Popes of Rome>1 and
<1Christes vicares>1   (as they name theim selues) did as ernestly
folow the exemple of Christes life, in enbracyng of pouertee, or
peinefull teachyng of the people, or in bearyng of his crosse, and
contempt of this world, or if they didde but thynke a while vppon
he name of <1Pope,>1   whiche they chalenge peculierly, and is as
muche to saie, as father, or the title <2of most holy father,>2 as thei
ioie to be called: Now I see not what men in all the [p<iI>i] world

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shuld (by right) liue in greatter carefulnesse and affliction theri
thei. Nor I see not vpon what hope the rankest <1Symoniakes>1
of them might recken, if thei reked hereon, that all theyr
goodes and facultees were to scant to deale in bribes to the
s <1Cardinals>1 for their voices: or hauyng ones purchased that
roume with theyr pennie, wolde than so manfully defende and
kepe it, bothe with swoorde, with poyson, and with all other
efforce. Good lorde, howe many pleasures and commoditees
shoulde wisedome at one plucke bereue theim, in case they did
 but ones loke hir in the face? Wisedome saied I? Naie if they
had but one graine of that salt, wherof Christ maketh mencion
in the gospell, they woulde not hoorde vp so huge heapes of
golde, so hiegh mountaines of honours, so large dominions, so
many marciall victories, so many offices, so many dispensacions,
so many reuenues, so many taxes, so many perdones, nor kepe
such a numbre of pampred horses, and slicke shorne moyles, nor
holde suche a courte and garde about them, with infinite other
solaces, to abound, or rather swimme in delices. Ye see (I trow)
in these few woordes, how great a fayre, and in maner a sea of
pleasures and worldly welthinesse I haue set afore you. In place
wherof is there any of you thinketh, that <1Peters successours>1
at these daies, wolde willyngly embrace fastyng, watchyng,
teares in vehement praier, daiely preachyng, studiyng on the
scripture, or sighyng at mens offences, with thousand other
suche drerie troubles, whiche thei daiely shoulde than be subiecte
to? Or dooe you iudge peraduenture they coulde easily fynde in
theyr hertes, that so many scriueners, so many registrers, so
many [Pi<sv>s] notaries, so many aduocates, so many promoters,
so many secretaries, so many moyleters, so many horsekepers,
so many gentilmen of housholde, so many applesquyers, so
many baudes, (I had almost spoken a softer woorde, but
I feare me it wolde haue sounded harder to your eares)
briefely so great a rablement of sundrie men as doe waie downe

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(I crie you mercy) I ment, dooe waite on the <2See of Rome,>2
shoulde haue cause to crie out on theim, whan with the tourne
of an hande through theyr conuersion to a sobrer course of
liuyng, those myght well enough be driuen to die for hunger?
specially seyng aboue the rigour and extremitee of such an
heynous acte,  a farre more detestable inconuenience shoulde
folow, whan therby the princes selfe, and pillers of the churche,
yea the verie <1Lampes>1 (on gods name) whiche light the worlde,
shoulde be called backe againe to a <2bagge and a staffe?>2 wheras els
thei haue founde out so good a shyfte, and conueighance, what
euer labour or toyle belongeth to theyr offices, to cast it wholy
on Peter and Paules shoulders, who haue leysour enough to welde
it, whiles they maie so good chepe reserue vnto theim selues all
the pleasure and commoditees of the same? wherby it cometh
to passe, and all through my drifte, that no kynde of men lyue
more delicately, nor with lesse care than these holy fathers dooe.
For as for Christ, he (thei thynke) maie easily enough be pleased,
so long as thei shew them selues like popes in their <1Misticall>1
<1Pontificalibus,>1  bolstred vp with <1ceremonies,>1 and titles of
<1blissednes, reuerendnes,>1 and <1sanctitee,>1 to blisse and curse
whorn thei liste: what for the rest, it is stale with theim, and out
of vse at these daies to doe [p2] myracles: peynefull, to teache
the people: scholerlyke, to expounde scripture: to ydle a thyng,
to praie: farre more milkesoplyke and womannisshe, to cast
foorth teares: vile, to be nedie: dishonourable, to be ouercome,
and most vnsittyng for theim who scantly will admitte kynges
and emperours to the kyssyng of theyr feete: Finally it is an
vnsauoury thyng, to die: and as reprocheable, to be hanged on
the crosse: So that refusyng to stande to any of these harde
condicions, thei rest onely vpon feates of armes, with also those
sugred and doulcet <1benedictions>1 of theirs, mencioned by
Paule, with a thousande wherof I wene they woulde parte more
liberally, than with one pennie: and sticke hardily to theyr
<1interdictions,   suspencions, aggrauacions, redaggraua->1

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 <1cions, anathemisacions,>1 and <1peincted pictures>1 set vp in
churches, representyng suche as thei note for cursed, or here-
tikes, with also that theyr dredefull thunderbolt of <1excommu->1
<1nicacion,>1 the dynt wherof at theyr onely becke is hable to
s dyng downe sely soules a thousande myles beyonde the depest
dongeon in hell: whiche thunderbolt they leuell yet against no
men so vehemently, as against those, who through the diuelles
instinction dooe go about to croppe <1Peters patrimonie:>1
whiche (for all Peters owne woordes in the gospell, <2Lorde, we>2
<2haue lefte all to folow the)>2 they expounde to be <2landes, citees,>2
<2taxes, customes, and dominions.>2 For maintenaunce wherof, whiles
kyndled with the feruent zeale of Christ, they fight bothe with
sworde and with fyre, than they wene they dooe gaily, and
<2afostolically defende Christes esfouse the churche,>2 in rebuttyng
is and manfully (as they saie) forchasyng of hir enemies. As who
[p2<sv>s] saieth, there be any enemies more pernicious to Christes
churche, than wicked bishops theim selues? who suffre Christes
name for lacke of theyr daiely remembring, to grow out of the-
peoples knowlage: and do binde Christ to certaine money lawes
of theyr owne: and with wrested gloses and exposicions dooe
bastard him: and lastly through the abhominable president of
theyr life doe eftesoones crucifie hym. In sort, that wheras
Christes churche was fyrst founded vpon the bloudde of him
hir autour, and reised vp with the bloudde of the apostles, and
enlarged with the bloud of so many martyrs: now, as though
Christ were no Christ, or that he were not hable as before to
conserue his chosen, they in hir defence dooe trie theyr quarels
onely at the swoordes poincte.
   That wheras warre (to speake absolutely) is so cruell and
despiteous a thyng, as rather it becometh wilde beastes, than
men: therto so furious and rageyng, as the verie <1Poetes>1 doe
feigne, that the <1Furies>1 of hell dooe let it slippe: also so pestilent
a thyng, as draweth for traine all frothe and corrupcion of
maners after it: Further so vniust a thyng, as for the moste parte
24
  is best executed by the veriest theues and distressours that be:
  and lastly so vnchristian a thyng, as in nothyng accordeth with
  Christe: Yet dooe these my <1Romyshe pre1ates,>1 settyng all
  other thynges a syde, onely studie and employe their tyme on
  warre. In whiche exercise ye shall see some of theim beyng so
  olde and wasted, that theyr bones rattle in theyr skinnes, so
  liuely yet turmoylyng, and pronely bent therto, as if they were
  waxen younge againe: neyther sparyng for coste, nor weried
  through labours, ne any thyng grudged in [P3] mynde or agaste
  at it, though therby all lawes, religion, peace, and tranquillitee in
  humaine thynges be tourned topsetturuie. For woorke they
  neuer so vngodly, yet faile they not of some glosers, learned men,
  who in hope of promocion, will name and expounde this theyr
  open madnesse to bee a <1Zeale,>1 to be a <1Pietie,>1 to bee a <1Spiri->1
  <1tuall manhode>1 in them, bringyng it by a new found meanes
  to passe, that now a man maie thrust his swoord into his brothers
  bealy, obseruyng neuerthelesse that loue and perfite charitee,
  whiche Christe byddeth eche Christian to owe an other. And
  truely I am as yet in doubte, whether <2bishops in Almaine>2 haue
  geuin, or rather taken exemple hereat: seyng that somewhat
  plainelier, and without any obseruaunce at all, vsed either in
  their wede, or blissyng, with suche lyke ceremonies as bishops
  woulde be knowen by, they dooe plainely shewe theim selues
  to be temporall princes, in sort that in a maner they coumpt it
  vilitee for theim to yelde theyr valiaunt soules to God, any
  where els than in a foughten fielde.
     And now, dooe not <2syngle friestes>2 (trow ye) clinge as nere as
  they can to theyr prelates deuocion? for (loe) how warlyke bothe
  with swoordes, with staues, and with stones, yea and by the
  teeth also the good vicares can striue for theyr tytherightes? and
  how narowly loke thei to finde in olde writte or in doctours, any
  sentence seruyng for theyr purpose, to geue terrour therby to
  theyr simple parissheners, yea and beare them downe, that thei
  ought to paie more than theyr tenthes limitted. But for all theyr
  diligence in that behalfe, they are as indiligent remembrers

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what is written in many places of scripture concernyng theyr
duities, and [P3v] what they on the other part ought to render
and repaie vnto the people. No not theyr shauen crownes at lest-
can warne theim, howe priestes muste be free from all worldli-
nesse, to passe on nothyng els, sauyng heauenly treasure. But
sooner at these daies my <2Iolie sir Iohns>2 doe take it for a sufficient
furniture of their roomes, as longe as they mumble ouer theyr
<2fortes seruice,>2 thei care not how rasshely, whiche (on my faith)
I wonder what god heareth, or vnderstandeth? seeyng they theim
selues dooe almost neither heare, nor wote what they saie, whan
onely with theyr lippes thei make a certaine buszyng, no whitte
procedyng from the hert.
   How be it (to saie the trouthe) it is a commen tatche naturally
geuin to all men as well as priestes, to watche well for theyr
owne lucre: for none is so vnskilfull, that in this poinct can not
skanne the lawes to the vttermost. But in case there be any
waight or charge thereon dependyng, that the clergie hath
politikely learned to cast on others shoulders. For like as princes
are wont to ordeine vnder theim many <1Deputies>1 and officers,
who likewyse dooe substitute <1Subdeputies>1 in theyr steedes, so
dooeth the <1Clergie>1 of theyr goodnesse and singuler modestee,
remitte all care of holinesse to the laie people, and laie folke
charge suche therwith as thei call <1Ecclesiasticall>1 or churche-
men, as who saieth all maner Christians had not to dooe with
the churche, or as if thei professed no suche thyng by theyr
fyrst vowe of <1Baptisme.>1 Than againe priestes that are named
<1Seculers,>1 as dedicate to the worlde and not to Christ, dooe laie
all this burden on <1reguler>1 priestes, who likewyse tourne it ouer
to <1Religious men,>1 and <1religious>1 men of an easier rule [p4] com-
mende the same to those of a straighter rule. But all with one
assent dooe cast theyr charge on <1Friers>1 neckes, who natheles
finde a meanes yet to conueigh the same to <2monkes of the charter->2
<2house,>2 in whiche onely order, holinesse as in hir graue lyeth
hydden, yea and so hydden, as scant at any tyme she can be
seen. Likewise holy fathers of Rome in tendre consideracion of
the daiely businesse, wherwith thei are occupied about their
money haruest, are faine to put bishops in trust with all other

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too too <1Apostolike>1 labours. But bishops disdeigne not, through
humilitee, to let <1persones>1 supplie theyr roomes: And <1per->1
<1sones>1 like good felowes wolde theyr <1vicares>1 shoulde haue the
dooyng therof: Than <1vicares>1 sticke not to suffre <1friers>1 to en-
croche vpon theim: And they againe make resignement therof,
to suche as daiely dooe shere the woulle of Christes poore flocke.
   But (hola) it is best for me to stoppe here, seyng I toke not
vpon me to boult out the maner of bishops and priestes liuynges
now a daies: lest any man shoulde deme how I rather entended
to ratle vp theyr vices, than to spredde myne owne praise, or lest
ye myght mistake me, as if good and vertuous princes were
taunted of me, whiles foolisshely accordyng to my custome I
dooe commende the wicked. Naie rather I haue touched thus
rnuche, with few woordes, to the ende it maie appeare, how no
mortall man can liue sweetely in ioie and pleasure, vnlesse he
be a brother of my <1fraternitee,>1 and haue me to his friende and
good ladie.
   For els, who is he dare loke for good happe, seeyng <1Fortune>1
hir selfe, the guidresse of all worldly chaunces, is so muche bent
on my syde, as euer for the moste parte she is heauie mai-[P<i4>i<sv>s]
stresse, and contrarious to these wysemen, wheras to fooles on
the other syde she dealeth hir giftes so largely, as if she crammed
the same into theyr mouthes whiles they are slepyng. Ye re-
membre (I trow) what is written of <1Timotheus>1 that fortunate
capitaine of the <1Atheniens,>1 whose good happe and successe in
thinges gaue fyrst place to this prouerbe, <2Slefe he neuer so fast,>2
<2his nette catcheth for hym.>2 (For ye shall vnderstande, that of his
continual prosperous fortune peincters toke occasion to pour-
tray his image slepyng, and fortune in the meane whiles throw-
yng into his nettes bothe citees and dominions.) And lykewyse
this other prouerbe, <2The howlate flieth>2 (wherby was ment, that
lyke as <1Pallas,>1 to whom the howlate is consecrate, was wonte
to geue good and happie successe to many of the <1Atheniens>1

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purposes vnaduisedly enterprised:  So likewyse that armie,
whiche had <1Timotheus>1 ones for capitaine, was euer victorious,
though tenne to one it shulde haue chaunced otherwyse.) But
these prouerbes on the other side dooe make against wysemen,
<2He was borne vnder an vnluckie moone, or vffon a crosse daie:>2 Or,
<2he hath Seians horse>2 (whiche horse as writers dooe affyrme, had
for his beautie dyuers maisters successiuely, who all at last had
euill end.) Or, <2he hath gotten Tolosan golde,>2 (the owners wherof
spedde no better than the former) with many suche other pro-
uerbes, whiche I holde it bestto ouerpasse, lest ye thought I had
robbed my friende <1Erasmus Adagies.>1
   To retourne therfore to my matter, I saie, that <1Fortune>1
fauoureth men not of the most forcast, and loueth bolde
hazardours, suche as refuse no chaunce of the dyse. But wyse-
dome maketh men the [Qi] warer, and more fearefull to auen-
ture any thing. Wherfore ye see daiely how these wysemen are
euer pounded in beggery and necessitee, <2andfedde with smoke,>2
leadyng foorth theyr tymes as vnregarded, vnestemed, and vn-
accepted. Wheras my fooles on the other syde dooe flow in
richesse and promocions, and for short doe flourisshe on all
sydes. For surely, and if ye coumpt it no srnall parcell of <1felicitee>1
to stande in good grace with great men, and liue familiarly
amonges those my <2golden gods:>2 now I see not what wisedome
can auaile you, nay rather how it shoulde not muche disprofite
you, seeyng they for the most parte beyng vnlerned, doe re-
proue lernyng, as that they know not. Or if <1Rychesse>1 be to be
sought for, I praie you what gaine can the merchant haue, whan
as wysedome biddeth, his conscience at any tyme shoulde
stagger at a false othe, or beyng taken with a plaine lie, he did
blusshe therat, or set but a barly corne by all those grudgeyng
doubtes, that wyse men put vpon thefte and vserie? Moreouer,
who so gapeth after <2sfiritual dignitees>2 and <2promocions,>2 (as there
be rauins enough that watche for suche carein) let hym thinke that
an asse or a cowherde shall sooner be aduanced to the same than

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any wyse, or learned man. Than in case thou estemest womens
loue and daliaunce (whiche sure is one of the greatest partes of
my plaie) Thei good podes are wholy addicted to fooles and
trifletalkers, yea none otherwyse dooe abhorre and shonne a
wiseman, than thei woulde dooe a <1Skorpion.>1 Briefely, who so
euer they be, that entende to lyue frankely in feast and glad-
nesse, for the fyrste poincte will see well that <1Maister Sage>1 be
shutte out of the dores, and sooner [Q<ii>i<sv>s] let in any maner beast
than him. Finally, what euer side ye tourne you to, be it to
<1Prelates,>1 to <1Princes, Iudges, Rulers,>1 friendes, or enemies,
all thyng is gotten for money, whiche like as a wiseman despiseth,
so I thinke it be, because he can not come by it, it standeth so
farre from his reache, as <2if thefoxe would eate no grafes.>2
Well, all be it there be no ende nor measure of my praises.
yet it must behoue me at last to make an ende of my talke. I will
leaue therfore. So that fyrst I maie briefely touche vnto you,
how I want not of many great <1Autours,>1 who with theyr
writynges and deedes also haue blasonned and set me foorth,
lest elles perchaunce ye might iudge, that foolisshely I stande in
myne owne conceite, or lawiers myght vse cauillacions against
me, saiyng, I alleged no bokes for my prouffe.
 Goe to therfore, let vs allege somewhat for our selfe, and
reherce vp, as they dooe, thynges nothyng seruyng to the pur-
pose. So fyrst I saie, that none will denie this olde sawe to be
true, <2how wheras the thyng selfe wanteth, there it is best at lest to>2
<2countrefaict the same,>2 wherupon younge children that goe to
schole, haue for one of theyr fyrst lessons this verse of Cato
taught them, whiche saieth: <2It is most wysedome for a man, in>2
<2flace to countrefaicte Folie.>2 Now therfore I praie you consider
with your selues, how great a weale and benefite must Folie in
deede be, wheras the countrefaictyng and shadowe onely of
the same, deserueth so muche praise at learned men. Amonges
whom myne owne good <1Horace,>1 as a fatte and fayre fedde

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hoglyng of <1Eplcures>1 herde, <2aduiseth men to myngle Folie with>2
<2their graue counsailes,>2 (all be it the addicion he maketh of <2short>2
<2Folie,>2 was not all of [Q<i2>i] the cunnyngest.) Also in an other place
he saieth, <2it is a sweete thyng to be afoole whan place requyreth:>2
And than againe he confesseth, <2he had rather be holdenfor afoole>2
<2and an Ideote, than beyng wyse, to be barked at, and bytten of>2
<2euerie bodie.>2 And <1Homer>1 likewyse, wheras in all condicions he
praiseth and commendeth <1Telemachus,>1 yet in dyuers places
he is wont to call hym <2childisshe and imfrudent,>2 whiche name
these writers of <1Tragedies>1 dooe gladly for a token of good
lucke geue to boyes, and stripelynges. But for Gods sake, what
is els conteigned in <1Homers>1 whole <1Poesie>1 of the sacred boke
called <1Ilias,>1 saue onely <2the contencious debates offoolisshe kynges,>2
<2and foolisshe peofle?>2 wherby it appeareth, <2that all the world is>2
<2full offooles,>2 as <1Cicero>1 saied rightly, in whiche so few woordes
he gaue me as absolute and ample a praise, as myght be. For
who is he that knoweth not the value and goodnesse of a thyng
to be the more acceptable, the largelier and more copiously that
the same is spread into all partes?
  But it maie be (ye will saie) that <1Christen>1 men geue no cre-
dence to these painem autours: in whiche case (if ye thinke so
good) I am content to <2froffe vf, andfounde>2 (as <1doctours>1 saie)
my praises vpon suche textes as for witnesse of the same I shall
fetche out of holy scripture. Fyrst of all praiyng diuines of their
lawfull fauour, that they will licence me so to dooe. Next than
because I take a great charge in hand, and it were no good maner
to call the <1Muses>1 eftesoones from theyr fountaine of <1Helicon,>1
to come backe so great a iourney as is from thence hither,
namely for a mattier smally perteignyng to theyr facultee,
peraduenture it were better wisshed of me, whiles I plaie the
<2Doctresse>2 [Q<i2>i<sv>s] <2of diuinitee,>2 and passe through these brambles,
that the soule of <1Duns>1 woulde a little leue <1Sorbone College,>1
and enter into my brest, be he neuer so thornie, and fuller of
pricles than is any vrcheon, to departe againe whan I haue dooen

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ones, and if he list <2to the gaawes.>2 That woulde god I myght
proprely take a new countenance, and were cladde in a doctour-
like apparaile: sauyng I feare lest some of you woulde laie thefte
to my charge, as though I had priuily piked our <2Maister doctors>2
cunnyng out of theyr study deskes, because I can so muche
<1Diuinitee>1 without boke. But haue ye no meruaile though my
continuall and daiely conuersacion amonges doctours, maketh
me to beare awaie some one woorde or other: seyng <2thefygtree>2
<2image of Priafus coulde in processe>2 of tyme, as his maister redde
<1Homer,>1 marke and remembre some <1Greke vocab>1 and
likewyse <1Lucyans cocke>1 throughe longe continuaunce and
conuersyng amonges men, did learne so perfectly theyr
speche.
   But now (on gods name) to our mattier: <1Salomon>1 the
<1Ecclesiaste>1 writeth in his fyrste chapitre, <2that the noumbre of>2
<2fooles is infinite.>2 Now where he speaketh of an infinite noumbre,
is it not as muche, as if he comprehended all men therin, sauyng
onely a certaine, so few, as I can not tell if at any tyme they were
seen at all? Muche more expressely dooeth <1Ieremie>1 confesse the
same: <2for eche man>2 (saieth he) <2is made afoole in his owne wysedome:>2
So onely vnto God he loweth wysedome, and assigneth folie
for peculier vnto all men. Than againe a little aboue that, he
would <2no man shuld glorie in his owne wysedome:>2 and why so
mine owne good <1Ieremie?>1 <2Forsouthe>2 (will he saie) <2for that man>2
<2hath no>2 [Q<i3>i] <2wysedome at all.>2 But to retourne aga
<1Ecclesiaste.>1 What ment he (trow ye) by his protestacion, when
he lowdely cried out so, <2Vanitee of vanitees,>2 and <2all is vanitee?>2
what? but (as afore I saied) that this humaine life is naught but
a certaine great plaie of Folie? confirming (as who saieth) that
noble sentence of <1Cicero>1 a little afore recited, <2how all this world is>2
<2full of fooles.>2 Moreouer, where the other wyse <1Ecclesiasticus>1
saied, <2A foole changeth like the moone, but a wiseman abydeth in>2
<2one state as the sonne,>2 what signified he els hereby? but that
mankynd is altogethers foolisshe, and God onely deserueth the
name of wisedome. For ye shall vnderstand, that by the moone

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(accordyng to the exposicion of doctours) is figured mankynde:.
and by the sonne, whiche is the head and fountaine of all light,
is ment god him selfe the father, and originall of all sapience.
Wherunto this maketh greatly, that Christ hym selfe in the
gospell, <2denied any man ought to be called good, sauyng god hym>2
<2selfe.>2 Now therfore if euery man that is not wyse, muste be
holden for foolishe, and who so euer is good, is wise also, (accord-
yng as the <1Stoikes>1 do affyrme) than per consequent ye must
nedes confesse, that mortall men are altogethers wrapped in the
bandes of Folie. Furthermore, <1Salomon>1 in his.xv. chapitre
saieth: <2Folie makethfooles gladde:>2 wherin he confesseth plainely,
that nothyng in this life can be sweete or pleasant, vnlesse that
folie yelde the same vnto you: and hereunto maketh that saieyng
also: <2who exhorteth you to wysedome, exhorteth you to sorow.- and>2
in <2muche vnderstandyng, is muche indignacion:>2 and doeth not this
noble preacher plainly confirme the same, saiyng in his.vii.
chapitre: <2That the hert of a>2 [Q<i3>i<sv>s] <2wyseman is wheras sorow is,>2
<2and the hert of a foole wherai gladnesse is.>2 Therfore Salomon
thought it not sufficient to consume time about the knowlage
of wysedome, vnlesse he further shoulde busie hym selfe to
know me also. That in case ye smally beleue myne, marke
I praie you his owne woordes in the fyrst chapitre: <2And I haue>2
<2afflied my hert>2 (saieth he) <2to know wysedome and learnyng, and>2
<2lykewyse to know errours andfolie:>2 wherin ye must note this well,
how it maketh muche for my dignitee, that he putteth folie in
the latter place, namely seyng the <1Ecclesiaste,>1 or churche
preacher wrote it, and pardie ye know how the church ordre
willeth, that who so is first in dignitee, shall goe last in place,
to the ende, that how euer in other poinctes, yet herein at lest he
dooe obserue the precepte of the gospell.
  But folie to be farre more noble and excellent than wisedome,
I wene I can proue you by witnesse of the <1Ecclesiasticus,>1 who
soeuer was autour of that boke in the.xliiii. chapitre of the same:.
whose text surely I holde it not best to recite vnto you, before
ye somewhat shall haue ayded the <1induction>1 of myne argument,

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with aunswearyng handsomely vnto me, lyke as <1Plato>1 intro-
duceth those that dispute with <1Socrates>1 to dooe. So fyrst I de-
maunde of you, what thynges to your iudgement ought soonest
to be kept close and hydden, other those that are preci
rare to be gotten, or other that are vile and dogchepe in euery
<1place? dooe you>1 holde your peace? Now surely how euer ye
woulde dissemble, yet shall this olde greke prouerbe answeare
for you: <2the waterfotte is sette behynde euerie dore:>2 the auctoritee
of whiche prouerbe let none of you be so vngodly to refelle,
seeyng <1Aristotle>1 hym selfe, the gold [Q<i4>i] of our maister doc-
tours doeth in many places recite it: and in sadnesse I can not
thynke, that any of you all is so madde, to leue golde or precious
stones in the hiegh waie: naie rather ye laie theim vp in your
most secrete closettes, and yet, that not suffisyng, ye double
locke them in the strongest coffers ye haue, wheras durt ye leue
liyng still on the dunghill. Ergo, if that be hydden, that is more
precious, and the other vile thynges are left abrode as vntended
to, is it not manifest now, that wisedome which he forbyddeth
to be hydden, is farre more vile than folie, whiche muste
accordyng to his rede be locked vp and kept as close as maie be?
And now I    am content to reherce you his owne woordes,
(whiche are) <2Better is the man that hydeth his folie, than he who>2
<2hydeth his wysedome.>2
  But what saie you to this, that scripture attributeth to fooles
a certaine benignitee, and gentill whitenesse of nature, con-
demnyng wysemen for proude and despisours of all others
saue theim selues? For so dooe I plainely take the meanyng of
the <1Ecclesiaste>1 in the.x. chapitre. <2But afoole (saieth he) that>2
<2walketh in the strete, beyng hym seife vnwise, suffoseth all men>2
<2to be fooles as he.>2 Now is it not (I praie you) a signe of an ex-
cedyng gentilnesse in hym to make euery body his matche and
felow? that wheras none so base wil not meanely stande yet in
selfe reputacion, his curtesie is suche to dele euery man a fleese
of his praise. Therfore <1Salomon>1 beyng so great a kynge, was
naught ashamed of my name whan he saied in his.xxx. chapitre,

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 <2I am most foole of all men:>2 Nor <2Paule doctour of the gentiles>2
thought scorne therof, when writing to the <1Corinthians>1 he
said: <2I sfeake it as vnwise, that I more than others, etc.>2 as who
[Q<i4>i<sv>s] saieth it were a great dishonour for him to be ouercome
in folie.
But here (loe) me thynkes I heare how I am hissed at by some
of these greke professours, who study scripture in that tounge,
and make as though other doctours at these daies saw nothyng,
nomore than crowes dooe whan their eies ar peckt out, whiles
with certaine <1Annotacions>1 of their owne, they goe about to
duske mens eies as with smoke, amonges whiche sorte of note-
makers, my friende <1Erasmus,>1 whom often for honours sake
and good will I dooe mencion, maie be counted the seconde,
if not the fyrst. They (like enough) will reproue me, <2and (#o)>2
<2what a foolisshe allegacion is this>2 (will they saie) and <2how mete a>2
<2witnessefor dame Folie to bringe in?>2 wheras <2the afostles meanyng>2
<2is farre otherwyse, than she dreameth it to be: for in these woordes>2
<2he wolde not be taken for more foole than other, but whan he had>2
<2saied, They are ministers of Christ, and so am I also, to the ende>2
<2yet he shuld not be holden for a vainglorious vaunter in that he>2
<2made him selfe coequall with the other, he added as by correction,>2
<2I more than other, signfifyng therby, how not onely he was matche>2
<2to the other afostles, but somewhat aiso their suferiour: whiche>2
<2althoughe he woulde shoulde be taken for verie trueth, yet lest the>2
<2arrogant auowyng therof might fartly haue offended mens eares,>2
<2he did first shelde the same with the fretexte of Folie, (saiyng)>2
<2sfeake it as the vnwyser, because he wist what friuilege fooles>2
<2haue to sfeake trouthe without offence.>2
Well, what euer <1Paule>1 mente whan he wrote thus, I leaue
hardly to theim to dispute on: because I willynglier dooe folow
the auctoritee of other grosse and fatte doctours, who amonges
vulgar folke, are in greatest reputacion, so farfoorth as a great
part of learned men also had leuer (by god) for more [R<iI>i]
suretie be deceiued with theim, than iudge vpon righter know-
lage with these studiers of the scripture in the thre tounges.

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For no man setteth more by these smatterers in the <1Greke>1
tounge, than thei wold do by as many chatteryng iaes: chiefely
seyng that a certaine glorious doctour, whose name I dooe
suppresse for the nones, leste els these iaies woulde chatter this
greke taunt against hym, <2An asse to the harfe,>2 doeth in expound- s
yng bothe <1maffistrally>1 and <1theologically>1 this selfe same
texte from this poincte forwarde, <2I more than others,>2 make it to
be the head of a new sentence, puttyng also a new clefte and
diuision in the same, whiche sure he coulde neuer haue dooen,
without a wonderous conueighance of <1Logike.>1 But for more
plainesse I will repete vnto you his owne woordes' not onely in
<1forme,>1 but also in <1matter,>1 (as scholemen saie): And this was
his exposicion. <2I sfeake it as the more vnwise,>2 that is to saie
(quod he) <2in case I seeme vnwise vnto you because I doe coequall>2
<2my seife vnto the false afostles, than more vnwise will you coumpt>2
<2me, in auauncyng myseife afore theim.>2 Neuerthelesse this goodly
expositour not muche bynethe that, as if he had forgotten him
selfe, falleth quite into an other sense.
  But wherabout goe I now? Shall I stande to one onely
exemple in my defence, seyng all doctours take it commenly for
theyr priuilege, to streche out heauen (that is to saie) holy
writte lyke a cheuerell skynne?  Seyng also how in Paules
epistles, the woordes of scripture fare as if they wer
trary senses, wheras beyng set in their right places, they doe varie
neuer a dele, if we geue credite to <1Hierome.>1 For whan paule
saw at <1Athenes>1  an <1Aitare>1 dedicate to the <1Goddes,>1 the en-
titlyng wherof he [Ri<sv>s] thought good to bringe in for a prouffe
and corroboracion of the Christen beleefe, leauyng all the rest
that madee against his purpose, he toke onely the two latter
woordes of the same, (which were these) <2to the vnknowne god,>2
yet in some parte he was content to chaunge theim to: for the
whole superscripcion was set vp in this rnaner. <2To the gods of>2
<2Asia, Eurofa, and Africa, to the vnknowne, and estraunge Gods.>2
So vpon this exemple of Paule I wene it procedeth, that com-

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menly at these daies <2my faire broode of doctours>2 do enterprise
to nippe of here and there, foure or fiue woordes of the whole,
yea and those some thyng altered and corrupted (if it stande
theim vpon) to applie the same so botched together to
s theyr owne sense and commoditee, how euer that that goeth
before, and that that foloweth, dooeth nothyng serue to
purpose, or rather make cleane against them. Whiche their
saied iugglyng they conueigh yet by so happie an vnshame,
fastnesse, as in this poinct <1Ciuilians>1 haue cause oftentymes
to enuie <2doctours of diuinitee,>2 whan now in <1Allegacions>1
nothyng makyng for the mattier, they bee so farre passed by
theim.
  For I praie you (of friendship) tell me, what thyng maie be to
harde for these doctours to bringe about? seeyng how that great
aforesaied doctour (I had almost blabbed foorth his name
againe, but I feare me I tell you of the <1greke adage)>1 coulde draw
out of Lukes woordes, the construction of a sentence nomore
agreable vnto Christes meanyng therin, than fyre is with water?
For Christe whan the imminent daunger of his death aproched,
what tyme, or neuer, it becometh good seruauntes most con-
stantly to take theyr maisters part, and defende hym to theyr
powers, [R<i2>i] as confederates in league dooe one for an other,
to the ende yet he myght driue <1all>1 confidence in suche maner
defence out of his <1Apostles>1 hertes, axed of theim, <2whether thei>2
<2wanted ought, what tyme he sent theim foorth so barely without>2
<2any maner frouision, not geuyng theim so muche as shoes to saue>2
<2their feete from thornes and stones, nor yet a wallet to fut their>2
<2meate in? wherunto whan thei had aunswerd, that thei lacked>2
<2nothyng: But now>2 (quod he) <2who so ofyou hath a wallette, let him>2
<2sell it, and his bagge also, yea and who so hath not, make he sale>2
<2at lest of his cote, to bie him a swoorde.>2 Now wheras it is manifest
enough, that all Christes doctrine pretendeth naught but meke-
nesse, pacience, and contempte of this mortall lyfe, whiche of
you perceiueth not, what he ment in this place? For I take it
plainely that he saied thus, to geue his <1Ambassadours>1 the
<1Apostles,>1 the better courage, to the ende that they not onely
shoulde set no store by shoes, nor by vitailyng bagges, but should

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cast awaie theyr cotes also, the nemblier and more deliuerly to
goe about theyr charge and commission of the gospell preach-
yng, prouidyng theim selues of naught els but onely a sworde,
not that sworde that theues and murderers dooe occupie, but
the swoorde of the sprite, beyng whetted all on <1Charitee,>1 whose
poinct perseth into the inwarde partes of mans hert, and cutteth.
all flesshely affections thence, so clene, as naught remaineth
sauyng pietie, and ardent loue towardes god. But marke ye now
(of felowship) how warlyke this famous doctour wresteth the
plaine and clere sence hereof. <2For by the swoorde>2 (saieth he) <2is>2
<2ment defence against persecucion: and by the wallette is vnderstode>2
<2competent frouision we shoulde make of thynges necessarie to liue>2
<2withall.>2 As [R<i2>i<sv>s] who saieth, Christes mynde were chaunged,
because hym seemed that he sent foorth his <1Ambassadours>1
not halfe royally furnisshed, and therfore did recant here, and
call backe his fyrst <1Instructlins>1 geuin theim. Or as if he had
here forgotten those woordes, whiche afore he spake vnto theim
with suche a vehemencie, <2ye shal be blissed whan ye be fersecuted>2
<2with all kynde of oultrage and turment, but make ye no resistence>2
<2against those euilles ye shall suffer.-for blissed be the meke in sfrite>2
<2not those that are fierce, and stubbourne herted.>2 Or as if it were
quite out of his remembrance, that in other places he likeneth
them <2to sfarowes, and lilies,>2 as touching the small care that thei
shuld take for theyr liuyng. Now, so muche lacked that he would
haue theim goe weponlesse, as rather thei shulde sell theyr cotes
from theyr backes to bie the same: and sooner goe naked, than
without a swoorde by theyr side. Moreouer lyke as vnder the
name of <1Swoorde>1 (as he expoundeth it) <2all maner of defence is>2
<2conteigned, that maie refell iniurie, and violence, so vnder the name>2
<2of bagge, is comfrised what euer prouision is made to liue withall.>2
And thus (loe) this depe expositour of Gods will and meanyng
setteth foorth the apostles complete armed, with iauelins, bowes
and arowes, slinges, and haulfe hakes, to preache the gospell,
and Christes crosse. Ladyng them moreouer with great males,

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and paniers well stuffed with vitailes, lest els perchaunce they
might sometyme departe from theyr innes vndyned. No not so
muche as this, myght any thyng moue this gaie learned man,
that Christ hym selfe shortly after rebukyng Peter <2biddeth the>2
<2swoorde shoulde be fut vf againe,>2 whiche afore he commaunded
so ernestly to be bought: and that it neuer [R<i3>i] was hearde how
the apostles did at any tyme occupie sworde and buckler, to
resist theyr aduersaries violence, whiche nathelesse they woulde
not haue sticked to dooe, in case that Christes meanyng in these
aforesaied woordes had been suche, as he expoundeth it to be.
  There is an other doctour likewyse of no lesse reputacion
than this former, but for honours sake I name hym not, who
interpretyng a place of <1Abacuc>1 the prophete, where he saieth,
<2The skinnes of the lande of Madian shall be disfarcled and torne>2
<2asunder:>2 nothing consideryng that the <1Prophete>1 spake of the
Madianistes lodgeynges or tentes for the fielde,>2 whiche were made
of beastes skinnes, as aunciently men in warrefare vsed, writeth
plainly, that <1Abacuc>1 did prophecy there of the fleayng of
<1Sainct Barthelmeus>1 skynne. I my selfe not longe agoen was
present (as many times I am wont to be) at a certaine disputa-
cion, where dyuers doctours were assembled. There whan one
of them by chance had put forth a question, <2by what auctoritee>2
<2of scrifture heretikes ought sooner to be coumftrolled by the fire,>2
<2than confuted by argumentes?>2 an other auncient father, that satte
by hym, beyng so crabbed faced, as onely the complexion of his
hangyng browes might tell you straight he was maister doctour,
aunswerde in a great cholere, that Paule him selfe was the fyrst
ordeigner of that lawe, wheras in one of his epistles it is redde,
<1H^reticum hominem post vnam et alteram correptionem>1
<1deuita>1 (But I axe perdone at your delicate eares, because I can
not otherwise than in the <2latine phrase>2 expresse it vnto you) <2I>2
<2exhorte you>2 (saieth Paule) <2to deuite or shonne the comfany of here->2
<2tikes, after you shall haue ones or twise refroued theim for their>2

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<2erro->2[R<i3>i<sv>s]nius <2opinions.>2 Now whan this doctour had thundred
foorth this texte in a bigge voyce, makyng often repeticion of this
latine woorde <1(deuita)>1 so that many meruailed now what the
diuell he ailed, at last he concluded, that heretikes muste be
lifted de, <1vita,>1 makyng two woordes therof, as who saieth lifted
out of life. Many laughed at this his fine exposicion, and some
there were yet, who toke the same for a verie <2Theologall>2
<2inuencion.>2 But wheras others (that notwithstandyng) beganne to
replie, by and by rose vp an other muche solemne and irre-
fragable doctour to take his part. And thus lieth the case (quod
he) <2It is written, Suffer thou no misdooer to liue, now sins that>2
<2euery heretike misdooeth, ergo thou must suner no heretike on liue.>2
This <1Syllogysme>1 beyng thus trussed vp by hym, (lorde) how
all the assistence beganne to wonder at his wittinesse, thoroughly
confyrmyng his sentence, yea and that the sooner, seyng none
of theim had the witte or learnyng to consider, how that law was
fyrste ordeined against <2lottemongers, enchaunters>2 and <2sorcerers,>2
suche as the Hebrews in theyr tounge name <1witches>1. For els
why shoulde not fornicatours, and drunkardes by as good
reason, be punished with the lyke peine of death?
  But I plaie the verie foole in goyng about to tell vnto you, all
suche balde deuises of these furde hoodedmen, beyng in deede
so innumerable, as woulde not (on my conscience) be com-
prehended in all the large volumes of <1Crisyppus,>1 and <1Didy->1
<1mus,>1 takyng hardly <2Fytzharbertes abregementers>2 for aduantage.
Onely my meanyng was, to aduertise you, that seing those diuine
maister doctours durst take vpon theim to wrest and mistake
scripture in suche sort, than [R<i4>i] muche more I must be borne
with, beyng but a younge doctresse, and lyke a woman shotyng
foorthe my bolte at the gainest, if sometyme maie chaunce I laie
not all my <1allegacions>1 fully by leuell.
  But now at last I lepe backe againe to sainct paule, and <1Gladly>1
(saieth he) <2ye dooe beare with vnwise men,>2 (speakyng it by him
selfe): also in an other place, <2receiue you me, as vnwise that I am:>2

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and further, <2I sfeake not this frecisely as vpon gods frecefte, but>2
<2rather in mine owne vnwisedome.>2 Than againe, <2we>2 (saieth he) <2are>2
<2become fooles for Christes sake:>2 Dooe you here now how great
praises of Foly this so great an autour alleageth, yea and that
more is, he plainely enioygneth Folie vnto vs, for a thyng moste
necessarie, and right importyng to saluacion? <2For who so semeth>2
(saieth he) <2to be wise amonges you, let him become a foole, to the>2
<2ende he be wise in deede.>2 How saie you my maisters, woulde ye
any rnore euident prouffes than this, or an other exemple also
in <1Lukes>1 gospell, where <1Iesus>1 calleth the two disciples <1fooles,>1
with whom he ioigned company by the waie? This in especiall
maie be taken for a meruaile, how Paule so great a diuine
spareth not to attribute a maner foolisshenesse, yea vnto god
also: where he saieth, <2what euer of god is foolisshe, is wyser yet>2
<2than any thyng in men:>2 in expoundyng of whiche texte <1Origene>1
denieth it to be possible, that this foly maie be referred to the
generall opinion of men vpon the same. As appeareth by this
other text of Paule, <2to reason of the misteries of the crosse, is surely>2
<2to suche as beleue it not and dooe ferisshe in their feruersnesse,>2
<2naught els but Folie.>2
  But aye, what ayleth me to seke so many textes of <1Scripture>1
for witnesses of my woordes, seeyng <1Christ>1 hym selfe in [R<i4>i<sv>s]
the psaltier dooeth plainly speake thus vnto the father, <2Thou>2
<2knowest myne vnwysedome?>2 So, not without some cause and
respecte we see in scripture, howe fooles and simple soules
stande hieghly in Goddes fauour, whiche I take to be, that lyke
as great princes haue wysemen in ielousie and suspicion, as
<1Iulius C^sar>1 had <1Brutus>1 and also <1Cassius,>1 wheras he no-
thyng helde hym selfe adradde of drunken <1Marke Anthony,>1
and as <1Nero>1 mistrusted <1Seneca,>1 and <1Dionysius>1 stode in
doubte of <1Plato,>1 wheras freely on the other syde they gaue them
selues to the pleasant company of men of a grosser and more
simple capacitee: So in like rate dooeth Christe blame and re-

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proue these worldly sages, who fully cleue and stande to theyr
owne wysedome.   This by Paules woordes is confyrmed, where
he saieth, <2God hath chosen hym out those that the worlde reputed>2
<2for fooles.>2 And in an other place: <2God hath disfosed to saue the>2
<2worlde by foolishnesse, seyng that by wisedome it might not be>2
<2conserued.>2 Yea God him selfe doeth sufficiently confesse the
same, wheras he crieth by the mouthe of the prophete, <2I shall>2
<2confounde the wisedome of wisemen, and refroue the frudence of>2
<2Sages:>2 So <1Christ>1 in an other place rendreth thankes vnto the
father, <2that he had hidden the misterie of saluacion from wisemen,>2
<2and disclosed the same to youngelinges,>2 (That is to saie) <2to fooles,>2
(For so the Greke woorde signifieth.) And hereto serue the many-
folde nippes and tauntes, wherwith Christ in diuers places of
the gospell, bayteth <1Pharisees,>1 and <1Scribes,>1 and <1Doctours>1
of <1the law,>1 takyng ernestly yet the part of simple and vnlearned
folkes. For is it not as muche to saie, <2Woo be vnto you, ye Scribes>2
<2and Pharisees,>2 as woo be vnto you, ye wisemen? [Si] But where
finde you that euer he charged either yongelynges, or wornen, or
fisshers, with that so heauie a woorde? For it semeth proprely
that he delited muche in theyr <1simplicitee,>1 euin lyke as those
kindes of dumme beastes were most acceptable vnto hym, that
were fardest remoued from all Foxelike wylinesse. And therfore
chose he rathest to ryde on an asse, all be it (so pleasyng hym)
he myght as safely haue bestridden a Lyons backe. We reade
also that the <2holy ghoste>2 descended in the lykenesse of a Culuer,
and not of an Egle, or a puttocke. And besyde
many places maketh mencion of <2hertes, offaunes, of lambes,>2 and
suche sely beastes. Lyke as Christe dooeth call his elect and
chosen by the name of <1Shepe,>1 whiche beaste is of all others
the vnwysest (witnesse this prouerbe of <1Aristotle)>1 <2his maners>2
<2sauour of the shefe, or he hath shefisshe condicions:>2 whiche quippie

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in waie of reproche is vsed against blockeheades of the verie
sklendrest capacitee. And yet we see, how Christ professeth hym
selfe to be the herdeman of suche a flocke: Yea and that more
is, delited hym selfe in the name of <1Lambe,>1 that <1Iohn the>1
<1Baptist>1 gaue hym, whan he poincted hym thus to the people:
<2toe here the lambe of God:>2 whiche ressemblaunce is lykewyse
cited in many places of the <1Apocalipse.>1
  Now all these textes that I haue alleaged, doe thei not plainly
testifie, <2that mortall men beyng fooles, are godly ago?>2 and that
Christ hym selfe mindyng the relefe and redempcion of man-
kyndes folie, although he was the ineffable wisedome of the
father, became yet a maner foole, wheras takyng mans nature
vpon hym, he was founde bothe in fourme and habite lyke vnto
other men. Euin as [S<iI>i<sv>s] Paule saieth, <2he was made sinne also,>2
<2to cure and heale the synnes of the worlde:>2 to whiche sinnes yet it
pleased him to ministre none other medecines, than the <2Folie>2
<2of the crosse,>2 by the handes of the <1Apostles,>1 beyng grosse and
vnskilled men: whom natheles he as diligently did perswade
vnto foolisshenesse, as otherwyse he retired and dishorted theim
from wysedome, in alluryng theim by exemples shewed vpon
<2Children, vfon burdes of the ayre, and other thynges smallie sensed>2
<2or no whitte,>2 as whiche liue by no arte nor fordrifte, and likewyse
in warnyng them <2to take no care how thei shoulde vse their>2
<2woordes, whan thei were brought afore iudges and presidentes,>2 and
further in <2forbiddyng theim to seke out the accoumft of times, or>2
<2the smallest momentes of times.>2 To the ende (as who saieth) they
shulde not leane to their owne prudence, but with whole
thought and mynde depende on hym, remittyng all vnto his
discrecion. Wherunto this also maie be applied, that god the-
<1Creatour>1 and fyrst former of all thynges forbadde <1Adam>1 vnder
penaltee of death he shulde not taste of the fruite of the tree
of <1Science>1 or knowlage. As who saieth <2Science were the mere>2

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<2poyson tofelicitee:>2 Accordyng wherto, <1Paule>1 also dooeth openly
<2refroue science for a thyng most hurtesome and fernicious, seyng it>2
<2puneth vp the minde of man with selfeglorie:>2 Lyke as sainct
<1Bernard>1 also folowyng (as I take it) Paules saied opinion, <2ex->2
<2foundeth the hille, wheron Lucifer establisshed his seate, to be the>2
<2hille of Science.>2
 And perchaunce it shoulde not be the feblest argument, to
saie that fooles finde so muche grace and fauour afore god, as
to Folie onely is geuin perdone and forgeuenesse of trespasses,
wheras to wysedome not so muche as the least iote is remitted.
[S<i2>i] In sort that who so euer dooe axe at god forgeuenesse of
theyr sinnes, although they wittyngly did committe the same,
yet will they vse a certaine colour and pretext of Folie for
theyr excuse. For so dooeth <1Aaron in>1 the boke of <1Numbres>1
(if I well remembre me) <2desire ferdone of the punisshement that>2
<2his wiuesfaultes deserued, Saieyng, I fraie the>2 ( <20 lorde) not to laie>2
<2to our charge this sinne, whiche we haue foolisshelie committed.>2 And
so dooeth <1Saul>1 praie <1Dauid>1 to forgeue hym, <2For it affeareth>2
(saied he) <2that I haue dooen foolisshely.>2 Than againe the selfe
Dauid speaketh fayre and humbly to the lord, in this wise, <2But>2
<2I fraie the (O lorde) to ferdone the iniquitee of thy seruaunt, seyng>2
<2we haue dooenfoolisshely.>2 As if he thought he shoulde obteine no
mercie, vnlesse he had laide Folie and inconsidraunce to bote.
But what speake we of <1Dauid?>1 knowyng how <1Christ>1 the sonne
of god hangyng on the crosse did in this wise make intercession
for his enemies, <2Father, forgeue them,>2 and laide none ot
cuse, than, <2for thei know not what thei dooe.>2 So Paule in like
maner writyng to Timothe saied, <2But herefore haue I obteined>2
<2the mercy of god, in as muche as ignorantly I offended in mine>2
<2incredulitee.>2 Now what is it to saie, <2I offended ignorantly,>2 but
that, I did it through folie and not thorough malice? or what
other exposicion can ye make, of <2herefore haue I obteined mercie,>2
than that els I shoulde not haue obteined it, not hauyng laide
the wyte on Folie? And no lesse maketh for vs, that saiyng of

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<1Dauid>1 in the Psaltier, <2Lorde, take not to herte the tresfasses of>2
<2my youth, and mine ignorauncies remembre not.>2 Doe you marke
now what two colours he bringeth in for his purgacion? that is
to saie <1Youthe,>1 whiche age I dooe euer accom-[S<i2>i<sv>s]pany, and
<1ignorancies,>1 speakyng it in the <1Plural numbre,>1 to expresse
therby the greatter copie and haboundance of his Folie.
  Finally, as it were an endlesse labour to tell you infinite suche
exemples, so to knitte vp shortly, I saie in my conceite, that
<1Christian Religion>1 seemeth to haue a certaine sybship with
simplicitee, and deuoute foolisshenesse, in nothyng agreyng with
worldly wysedome. But if ye axe me, as how? than doe no more
but consider how children, oldfolkes, women, and fooles, are
those amonges others that shew theim selues deuoutest, and
most enclined to churche seruice, and holy thynges, reioysyng
to be present therat, in sort that euer at Masse tyrne ye shall see
theim approche nerest vnto the altars, euin through a certaine
instinction of naturall selinesse prouokyng theim to god. Thinke
also how the verie fyrst autours and founders of <1Christen Re->1
<1ligion>1 were as sharpe aduersaries of all <1Science,>1 and men trust-
yng to theyr owne cunnyng, as otherwyse frendly embrasours of
simplicitee and plainesse. Lastly perpende ye thus, how no maner
fooles are in apparence more ideotelike, than suche as are totally
rauisshed, and enflamed with the ardent zeale of <2Christian>2
<2charitee. So laueshly thei deale their goodes abrode, forgette all>2
<2iniuries doen vnto theim, suffre theim selues to be deceiued, fut no>2
<2difference betwene friendes and foes, abhorre all fleasures and>2
<2delites of the bodie, are fedde vf and made fatte with fastyng,>2
<2watchyng, teares, labours, and desfites, desfise their owne life,>2
<2and desire death aboue life, briefely seme to be so astonned andfast>2
<2all commen sensis, whiche men liue by, as if their soules dwelled not>2
<2in those bodies thei beare about with theim, but rather in some other>2

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<2mansion place.>2 Whiche straunge trade of theyrs I [S3] know not
how to call, but well maie it to the commen iudgement of men,
appeere to be a verie madnesse, or rauyng of the wittes. Mer-
uaile ye the lesse therfore, that the apostles were iudged by the
wicked Ethnikes <2to be drunkardes, as if their heddes were ouer->2
<2charged. with new wine.>2 And that <2Paule likewise was holden for>2
<2madde, of>2 Festus <2the fresident of Iurie,>2 in these woordes, <2Thou>2
<2rauest Paule, and muche learnyng of bokes hath turned the into>2
<2a madnesse.>2
  But seeyng I baue ones taken vpon me to plaie the doctresse,
<2futtyng on a Lyons hide>2 (as they saie) let me not sticke now to goe
through withall, and to teache you this also, that the selfe same
felicitee, whiche Christians doe so hotely desyre, and by so
many labours dooe seke for, is naught els than a certaine kynde
of rauyng, in the sprite, and godly foolisshenesse. Whiche
woordes I would not ye should grate on, nor take them at the
woorst, but rather note the thyng in deede as it lieth. For fyrst
ye must thinke, how <1Christians>1 in this poinct dooe fully agree
with the opinion of platos Sectatours, <2how the soule of man bey>2
<2drowned and entangled in the fleshely bandes of the bodie, can not>2
<2as being dusked with the grosenesse of the same, beholde and take>2
<2fruicion of the sight of verie thynges as thei are in deede.>2 Wherupon
Plato defineth <2Philosofhie to bee a meditacion or remembraunce of>2
<2death,>2 in as muche as it plucketh and retyreth the mind of man
from visible and corporall thynges, to those that are inuisible and
ghostly. Whiche effect is in death also. Therfore so longe as the
soule within man doeth rightly and in due wyse perus the
<1Orffans>1 of the bodie, so longe is that man
of good discrecion: but whan some of those bandes or conduites
[S<i3>i<sv>s] beyng ones perisshed, she dooeth busily labour to recouer
hir freedome, minding a certaine flight (as it were) and breakyng

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lose from that hir flesshely prison the bodie, by whiche strug-
lyng the whole frame of the sensis, and inwarde powers is dis-
ioygned, you dooe holde him for madde and out of his right
mynde: whiche passion if it come perhaps through infyrmitee,
or faultinesse of any of those <1Organs,>1 than dooe all men pre-
cisely agree, that it is plaine <1Madnes:>1 How be it we see that
euin this kynde of rauers dooe sometyme also prophecie of
thynges commyng, and sodeinly become knowers of tounges,
and artes, whiche erste they neuer learned, shewyng to haue in
theim I wote neuer what espece of new <2insfiracion and diuinitee:>2
whiche vndoubtedly chanceth, because the soule beyng some-
what enlarged, and made freer from the bodies yoke and con-
tagiousnesse beginneth a little to exercise and welde hir selfe
accordyng to the propretee of hir owne nature. And vpon like
occasion many folke labouring in the extreme panges of death,
are muche subiect (as I take it) to somewhat like hereto, as often
as if thei were rauished in a traunce, they dooe speake of cer-
taine wonderous thynges perteignyng to an other worlde.
  But and if the saied wandryng of the wittes dooe befalle a
man for that he is right passyngly moued and stirred vp with the
loue of heauenly thynges, I doubte now whether it maie be
called the selfe same kynde of madnesse, yet sure it is so nere
sybbe therto, as many men now a daies will doubt neuer a
whitte to repute that his feruent affection towardes god, for a
verie dotage of the mynde. Namely seyng a smalle numbre of
suche sely good soules as are [S4] deteigned therwith, dooe in
all theyr deedes, and liuyng repine, and disagree from the whole
bande of other mortall men. Wherfore (I suppose) they are
serued, as <1Plato>1 feigneth, <2that one of those frisoners was, that>2
<2satte bounden in a darke denne vnder grounde (as before I recited>2
<2vnto you) wheras naught was seen els, sauyng shadowes>2 and
<2refresentacions of thinges. That where by chaunce the saiedprisoner>2
<2escafed out of the denne, and so commyng abrode into this worlde,>2
<2saw verie thinges as thei were in deede, returning of good will to>2

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<2his felowes, to aduertise theim of the errour thei were in, he was>2
<2no whitte beleeued of theim, but rather laught to scorne.: For>2
<2wheras he like a man of wisedome and exferience seemed to pitie>2
<2their madnesse and great blindnesse in mistakyng so of thynges, thei>2
<2on the other side did fotte at him, and thrust him out of their>2
<2comfanie, for afrantike foole.>2 So fareth it by the vulgar sorte of
men, who commenly haue those thynges in greatest price and
admiracion, that are most sensuall and bodily, as whiche thei
take to be onely, and none other: wheras goddes folkes on the
other part, what euer draweth nerest to the bodily vse, do the
sooner therfore despise and set lyght by it, forsomuche as they
are holy rauisshed and geuin to the contemplacion of inuisible
thynges. For as worldlynges haue richesse in best reputacion,
next therto estemyng the weale of theyr bodies, and lest regard-
yng the profite of theyr soules, in case thei regarde it at all, for
some of them beleue there is no soule because they can not
see it at the eie: So againe deuout person put theyr whole con-
fidence in god, beyng the simplest and most pure thyng of all
others, and secondly do chearishe that, that draweth nerest to
hym, I meane the sprite, bestowyng no cost nor [S4v] tendance
on their bodies, nor on pleasures belongyng to the same. But
money of all thynges they neglect, and set no store by, nomore
than ye woulde dooe by thynges superfluous, or rather
That and if (maie chaunce) at any time thei be enforsed to go
about worldly affayres, I can tell you yet, that they doe it euil-
willyngly, and with a spyced stomake. So that (Paule saieth) <2thei>2
<2haue goodes, as not hauyng goodes.: and fossesse theim, as not>2
<2fossessyng theim,>2 by reason thei varie so muche from the vni-
uersall and vulgar sorte of men.
   For although the <1Senses>1 haue all a certaine parentage and
kynneship with the body, yet be there of the same, some grosser
in substaunce, as are <2fealyng, hearyng, seeyng, smellyng, and>2
<2tastyng:>2 some againe more seuered and remoued from the body,

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as is <2memorie, vnderstandyng, andfreewill.>2 Now seeyng that the
soule of man hath therin most strength and vigour, wherunto
she moste applieth hir selfe, therfore it cometh to passe, that-
holy men, the force of whose sprites is wholy bent vpon thynges
contemplatiue, whiche are most distaunt and aliened from the
grosser senses, dooe fare in the rest, as if they were benummed,
or brute of iudgement, as domme beastes are. Wheras contrary
the soules of vulgar people are most rife and pregnaunt in those
grosse rude senses of the body, beyng as blunt and dulle yet,
in the other fiue powers of the witte. And herevpon (I thynke) it
cometh, that some deuoute persones (as it is written of theim)
did without apperceiuyng the difference, drinke lampe oyle in
steede of wyne.
  So likewyse as concernyng the affections of the minde, some
of them be of faster league and aliaunce to the body, as are
<2flesshely luste, affetite to>2 [Ti] <2fode or slefe, yre, fride,>2 and <2enuie,>2
with suche other disordinate mocions, wherwith holy men are
euer at vnpeasible warre, but the vulgars not onely dooe not
eschew, but rather embrace theim, as supposyng they can not
liue without them. Than againe, some other affections are entre-
deux and indifferent to bothe partes, whiche we maie name
<2Naturall, as the reuerence a man beareth towardes father and>2
<2mother, the charinesse he hath ouer his children, the loue he oweth>2
<2to his kinnesfolkes and friendes,>2 with suche lyke. Whiche saied
<1Middle>1 affections are had also in some degree and price amonges
commen people, thought not so muche as the other. But holy
men will struggle to race theim also out of theyr hertes, sauyng
as farfoorth as they be ghostly, and make rather towardes the
hieghest part of man, whiche is the <1Sprite,>1 than any other
flesshely appetites: by whiche conueighance they maie loue
theyr parentes not as theyr parentes, (for what els begate thei
sauyng theyr bodies? yet euin that also ought to be referred to
god the maker of all thynges) but loue theim rather as good

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folkes, in whom the image of the sprite of god resplendissheth.
Whiche saied ressemblance they call verie felicitee, as the
greattest good that maie be had, yea suche (thei saie) as onely,
and none other, shulde be beloued, required, and wished after.
  And so by this saied rule, dooe thei measure lykewyse all the
other partes and duities of this life: wherby it cometh to passe,
that what euer thyng is seen here presently at the eie, if so be
thei doe not fully contemne the same, yet sure they sette muche
lesse therby, than by other thynges, whiche maie not outwardly
be seen. Yea thei saie also, that euin in the churche sacra-
[Tiv]mentes, and woorkes of charitee there maie be tried out
bothe a <2ghostlinesse and a bodilinesse:>2 As for exemple, <2In fastyng>2
<2thei holde it not sufflcient for a man to absteine from eating of>2
<2flesshe, whiche vulgar folke sufpose to be the entiere and perfect>2
<2faste, vnlesse that he rebate somewhat also from his affections, in>2
<2geuyng lesse raines than before to his anger, or in cuttyng his frides>2
<2combe shorter, or in lightnyng him selfe of his bodily peize, to the>2
ende <2his sfrite maie the nemblier climbe vf to the gripe andfruicion>2
<2of heauenly thinges. Likewise in howsell, and receiuyng of the>2
<2sacrament, albeit (saie thei) the ceremonies and circumstaunces vsed>2
<2about the same, ought not to be neglected, yet must we take them>2
<2of them selfe alone to be little auailable, or rather hurtfull, vnlesse>2
<2the other fart, whiche is sfirituall, be added also therunto.: that is>2
<2to saie, the thyng it seife, whiche by those outwarde signes is re->2
<2fresented. For refresented is the death of Christ therby, whiche>2
<2death all Christen men are bounde to folow and expresse, bothe in>2
<2dauntyng, fordooyng, and buriyng of all bodily affections, to the>2
<2end thei maie rise againe, beyng restored to a new life, as vnited>2
<2therby vnto Christ, and made all one amonges theim selues.>2 These
misteries are by godly and spiritual meaners scanned in this
sort: but leude folke comrnenly do take the <2Masse sacrifice>2 to
be of none other effect, than as it were a certaine church seruice,
wherin they fully did theiltduities, aslonge as they be present at
it, standyng as nere the ahare as thei maie, to here the woordes
of the priest, or chauntyng of the quyre, with other lyke cere-
monies and obseruaunces vsed about the same.
  Now, not onely in these two poinctes, whiche for exemples

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sake I haue set tofore you, but generally throughout all their
liuyng, holy men wil flie from those thynges, that sauour of the
bodie, as be-[T<i2>i]yng rapte and drawen vp to the other, that are
ghostly and inuisible. Insomuche therfore as there is suche
s diuersitee and discencion in all poinctes betwene these two
trades of men, it cometh to passe, that eche of them dooe take
other for madde and distraught, notwithstandyng (in my con-
ceipte) that name maie rightlier be applied vnto holy men, than
vulgar people: whiche ye shall plainlier perceiue why, as soone
as I haue briefly (accordyng to my promyse) declared vnto you,
<2how the finall mede and gwerdone, that Christen men dooe loke>2
<2after, is naught els than a certaine sweete rauyng, and simfle>2
<2alienacion of the minde:>2 wherin eftesoones I requyre you, not to
be ouer scrupulous graters at the bare woordes without takyng
the sense withall.
  Fyrst therfore ye must thinke, that <1Plato>1 didde euin than
dreame of suche a thyng, whan he wrote, <2that the fassion and>2
<2extreme rage offeruent louers was to be desired and embrased, as>2
<2a thing aboue all others most blisfull:>2 because that a vehement louer
liueth not now in hyrn selfe, but rather inthatthat he loueth, so that
the further and further a louers hert is distraught from him selfe,
to dwell with the beloued, the more and more he reioyseth. And
whan the minde seketh to wander from the body, nor occupieth
the powers of the same in the due vse, who will call this other-
wyse than plaine madnesse? For els why dooe you vse commenly
this phrase of speche? <2he is out of him selfe,>2 and <2retourne man to>2
<2thyseife,>2 and <2he is come againe to him selfe.>2 It foloweth therfore,
how muche more perfect, and the depelier suche loue is im-
pressed, that so muche the greatter, and the blisfuller is the rage
also. Whiche so beyng that soules yet pinned within these bodily
foldes maie smacke [T<i2>i<sv>s] a little of suche a felicitee, consider
ye than what a life the sainctes soules leade in heauen? whervnto

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the mindes of godly persons dooe with suche feruencie aspyre?
Seeyng there the sprite as vanquissher, and farre more puissaunt
shall wholy drawe vp, and conuertthe body into hir owne nature:
Whiche she maie dooe the easilier, seeyng euin in this life here,
she had clensed and purified the same through fastynges and
other deuout meditacions, to be the meter and more apte to
receiue suche a ghostly transformacion. And than againe, the
sprite selfe shalbe meruailously rauisshed and soked vp by the
farre more stronge and attractiue power of the hieghest sprite
of all, whiche is God. So that now those holy men shalbe
altogether transformed and alterated, by none other meanes yet
to so hiegh a degree in felicitee, sauyng onely because they as
wholy beyng issued out of theim selues, shall enioy and be
participant of that vnspeakeable heauenly sweetenesse, pro-
cedyng from a pure and right perfecte pleasure, throughe the
myght of god, the greatest good of all, that rauissheth and
attyreth all thynges to it selfe.
   Now albeit this saied felicitee is than mosteamply and abso-
lutely enioied, whan the soules at the resurrection daie beyng
restored to theyr owne bodies, shall ioynctly receiue immor-
talitee: yet inasmuche as the life of good Christians is naught els
than a continuall meditacion or certaine shadow as it were of
that life to come, it chanceth, that they yet liuyng, haue for
theyr coumforte permission at sometymes to discerne a taste or
sauour of that hieghest rewarde behight vnto theim: Whiche
saied smacke or sente, be it but a little droppe in respecte of that
large [T3] flowyng well of eternall felicitee, yet surely it sur-
passeth, and incomparablie excedeth all other bodily pleasures,
yea although all the delices of all men were wholy ioigned and
put in one. So muche (loe) are spirituall thynges to be preferred
before flesshely thinges, and the inuisible before the other
visible. For this vndoubtedly is euin the very gwerdone that the
<1Prophete>1 promyseth, Saiyng, <2was neuer mans eie sawe, nor>2

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<2heard, nor thought of hert yet comfassed, what, and how great>2
<2felicitee god hath frefared vnto suche as dooe loue him.>2 And this is
<1Mary Magdalens>1 porcion, whiche by chaunge of life shall not
be plucked awaie, but rather be more perfitely confyrmed. Who
so euer therefore haue suche grace (whiche sure is geuin to few)
by theyr life tyme to tast of this saied felicitee, they are subiecte
to a certaine passion muche lyke vnto madnesse or witrauyng,
when rauisshed so in the sprite, or beyng in a traunce, thei doo
speake certaine thynges not hangyng one with an other, nor after
any earthly facion, but rather dooe put foorth a voyce they wote
neuer what, muche lesse to be vnderstode of others: and sodeinely
without any apparent cause why, dooe chaunge the state of theyr
countenaunces. For now shall ye see theim of glad chere, now of
as sadde againe, now thei wepe, now thei laugh, now they sighe,
for briefe, it is certaine that they are wholy distraught and rapte
out of theim selues. In sort that whan a little after thei come
againe to their former wittes, thei denie plainly thei wote where
thei became, or whether thei were than in theyr bodies, or out
of theyr bodies, wakyng or slepyng: remembring also as little,
either what they heard, saw, saied, or did than, sauyng [T3<sv>s]
as it were through a cloude, or by a dreame: but this thei know
certainely, that whiles their mindes so roued and wandred, thei
were most happie and blisfull, so that they lament and wepe at
theyr retourne vnto theyr former senses, as who saieth, nothyng
were leefer vnto theim than continually to raue and be deteigned
with suche a spece of madnesse. And this is but a certaine
smacke or thinne taste of theyr blisse to come.
  But ones more forgettyng my selfe, <2I fasse my boundes.>2
Howbeit if ought shall seeme vnto you to haue been saied of me
more knappisshely than became me, or with more wordes than
neded, thynke I praie you, that I was the speaker, beyng bothe
Folie, and a woman. Yet for all that remembre the Greeke
prouerbe, that <2oftentimes a foole maie sfeake to furfose,>2 vnlesse
perchance ye thinke that this maketh no whitte for women.
I perceiue ye loke for an <1Epiloge>1 or knotte of my tale, but

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than sure ye are verie fooles, if ye wene that I yet remembre
what I haue spoken, after suche a rablement of wordes powred
foorth. The old prouerbe saieth, <2I hate a talebearer from the>2
<2boorde:>2 But I saie, <2I hate hym that remembreth what he hath sayd.>2
Fare ye well therfore, clappe your handes in token of gladnesse,
liue carelesse, and drinke all out, ye the trustie seruantes and
solemne ministers of Folie.

                         <1FINIS.>1