ΑΡΧΟΝΤΟΡΟΛΟΓΙΟΝ, OR THE DIALL OF PRINCES: CONTAINING THE GOLDEN AND FAMOVS BOOKE OF MARCVS AVRELIVS, Sometime Emperour of Rome.
DECLARING What Excellency consisteth in a Prince that is a good Christian: And what euils attend on him that is a cruell Tirant.
WRITTEN By the Reuerend Father in God, DON ANTONIO of Gueuara, Lord Bishop of Guadix; Preacher and Chronicler to the late mighty Emperour CHARLES the fift.
First translated out of French by THOMAS NORTH, Sonne to Sir EDWARD NORTH, Lord NORTH of Kirthling: And lately reperused, and corrected from many grosse imperfections.
With addition of a Fourth Booke, stiled by the Name of The fauoured Courtier.
LONDON, Imprinted by Bernard Alsop, dwelling by Saint Annes Church neere Aldersgate, 1619.
TO THE RIGHT HONOVRABLE, SIR HENRY MOVNTAGVE, Knight, Lord Chiefe Iustice of the Pleas, Holden before his most Royall Maiestie, &c
THe Emperour Traiane (Right Honourable) writing a Letter to the Senate of Rome, concerning the weightie and carefull condition of Princes; among many other matters, vsed these wordes of himselfe. I doe freely confesse vnto you, that, since I tasted the cares and trauels attending on this Imperiall dignitie: I haue repented a thousand times, that euer I did vndertake it, because, if it bee accounted Honour to enioy an Empire, there consisteth farre greater paine and labour, to order and gouerne it as it ought to be. But beside, what enuie doth hee expose himselfe to, & multitude of mislikes, that hath the charge of gouerning others? If hee be iust, hee is branded with cruelry: if mercifull, hee is contemned: if beautifull, tearmed lauish and prodigall: if hee hoorde vp money, then basely couetous: if inclined to peace, then hee is a coward: If full of courage, proudly anbitious: if discreetly graue, surly and scornefull: if affably courteous, silly and simple: if affecting solitude a dissembling hypocrite: if addicted to mirth and pleasure, then wantonly dissolute. In the end of all, te worthy Emperour thus concluded. Although willingly, I accepted this high office at the first: yet sorrow hath (since) made mee shrinke vnder so brdensom a charge: For, the Sea and dignitie are thinges pleasing to looke [...]n, but very perillous to meddle withall.
I haue alledged his example (worthie Lord) because present vnto your gracious acceptance, his ancient and famous Booke, called The Diall of Princes, wherein is at lige, and amply set downe, what care and respect awayteth on the liues of Prin [...]s and great persons: for if they canot runne into the smallest errour, but redoundeth to the hurt of many, nor neglect their duty, without other mens userie: Then sayde the Philosopher well. A Prince should not appropriate the Commonwealth [Page] to himselfe, but shape himselfe wholy to the Common wealth. And so much the rather, because he standing accountable to no man in this Life, ought to remember a farre stricter account, before him that maketh no respect of Princes, saue onely in this, that they shall finde the Iudge the more seuere against them, by how much they haue abused their place of eminencie, as also their power and princely authority.
In the learned Discourses following, set downe by that good Emperour Marcus Aurelius, the honourable Argument of all this worke; are three especiall duties and actions obserued, necessarily required in an absolute and perfect Prince, as namely; In Ruling, Iudging, and Defending: To rule by iust lawes, and good Example; To Iudge by Wisedome, Prouidence, and Iustice; And Defend by valour, care, and vigilancy. And this is that which the Spirit of God so often intimateth by the Prophet Ieremie, [...]ap. 22. verse 3. To execute Iudgement and righteousnesse: To deliuer the oppressed from the handes [...] the oppressour, Not to vexe the Stanger, fatherlesse, or Widdow: Neyther to doe violence, or shedde the innocent bloud.
Into infinite other famous presidents for Princes I could enter, and set them downe expressely; but that I know, they are so frequent to your Honour, both in reading and memorie, that it were as lost labour, as to hold a burning Taper in the bright Sunne at Noone-day, and therefore these few shall suffice, Nor doe I dedicate this vnto your graue and learned iudgement, as a new labour of mine owne, or as a worke neuer seene before; because it hath already past diuers impressions: albeit not in so exact a maner, nor with the like paines, as hath now bin bestowed vpon it, from many absurde, and grosse imperfections, and yet not so cleanely purged, as I could wish it were, nor as it shall bee, if euer it come to the Presse againe. Wherefore I humbly entreate your Honour, to accept it as it is, and as an oblation of my loue vnfainedly to you, which gladly would shew it selfe by any possible meanes, as time hereafter may better enable me. Til when, I remain ready at your Honours seruice, to the very vtmost of my best abilitie.
A GENER ALL PROLOGVE VPON THE BOOKE. ENTITVLED THE DYALL OF PRINCES: WITH THE FAmous Booke of MARCVS AVRELIVS, Compyled by the Reuerend Father in GOD, the Lord ANTONY of GVEVARA, Byshop of Guadix: Confessor and Chronicler to Charles the fifth, Emperour of Rome: vnto whom, (and to all other Princes, and Noble-personages) this worke was directed.
APolonius Thianeus disputing with the schollers of Hiareas, said: that among all the affections of nature, nothing is more naturall, then the desire that all haue to preserue life.
Omitting the dispute of these great Phylosophers herein, wee our selues hereof haue daily proofe: that to liue, men do trauell: to liue, byrds do flie: fishes do swimme: and to liue, beasts do hide themselues for feare of death. Finally, (I say) there is no liuing creature so brutish, that hath not a naturall desire to liue.
If many of the auncient Paynims so little regarde life, that of their owne free willes, they offered themselues death, they did it not for that they despised The heathē may teach Christians how to liue. life, but because they thought that for their little regarding life, wee would more highly esteem their fame For, wee see men of hauty courages, seeke rather to winne a long-during-Fame, then to saue a short lasting-life. How loth men are to die, is easily seen by the great paines they take to liue. For it is a naturall thing to all mortall men, to leaue their liues with sorrowe and take their deaths with feare.
Admit that all doe taste this corporall death, and that generally both good and euill doe die: yet is there great difference between the death of the one, and the death of the other.
If the good desire to liue, it is onely for the greater desire they haue to do more good: but if the euill desire to liue, it is for that they would abuse the world longer. For the children of vanity call no time good, but onely that wherein they liue, according to their owne desires. I let you vnderstand that are at this present, and you also that shall come heereafter: that I direct my writings vnto those which embrace vertue, and not vnto such as are borne away with vice.
GOD doth not weigh vs, as we are, but as wee desire to bee. And let no man say, I would, and cānot be good: for as wee haue the audacitie to commit a faulte, so (if we list) wee may enforce our selues to worke amendes. All our vndoing proceedeth of this, that wee outwardly make a shewe of vertue, but inwardly in the deede wee employ our whole power to vice: which is an abuse, wherewith all the world is corrupted and deceiued. For [Page] Heauen is not furnished but with good deedes, and hell is not replenished but with Euill-desires. I graunt that neyther man nor beast desireth to die, but all trauell, to the ende they may liue: But I aske now this question.
What doth it auayle a man to desire his life to be prolonged, if the same be wicked, vngodly, and defamed? The man that is high-minded, proude, vnconstant, cruell, disdainfull enuious, full of hatred, angry, malicious, full of wrath, couetous, a Lyer, a Gluton, a Blasphemer, [...]. and in all his doings disordred: Why will wee suffer him in the world?
The life of a poor man that for need stealeth a gowne, or any other small trifle is forthwith taken away: Why then is hee that disturbeth the whole Common-wealth left aliue?
Oh would to GOD there were no greater theeues in the world thē those which robbe the temporall goods of the Rich, and that wee did not winke continually at them, which take away the good renowne, as well of the Rich, as of the Poore. But wee chastise the one, and dissemble with the other, which is euidently seene, how the theefe that stealeth my neighbours gown is hanged forthwith, but hee that robbeth mee of my good-name, walketh still before my doore.
The diuine Plato in the first booke of laws, saide: We ordaine and commaund, that hee which vseth not himselfe honestly, and hath not his house well-reformed, his Riches well gouerned, A worthy sentence of Plato. his family well instructed, and liueth not in peace with his neighbors, that vnto him bee assigned Tutours, which shall gouerne him as a Foole, and as a vacabonde shall he be expulsed from the people, to the intent the common-wealth be not through him infected. For there neuer riseth contention or strife in a commonwealth, but by such men as are alwayes out of order.
Truely, the diuine Plato had great reason in his sayings, for the man that is vicious in his person, and doth not trauell in things touching his House, nor keepeth his Familie in good order, nor liueth quietly in the Commonwealth, deserueth to be banished, and driuen out of the countrey.
Truely we see in diuers places mad men tyed and bound fast, which if they were at libertie would not doe so much harme, as those doe that daylie walke the streetes at their owne willes and sensualitie. There is not at this day so great or noble a Lord, nor Ladie so delicate, but had rather suffer a blow on the head with a stone, then a blot in their good-Name, with an euilltongue. For the wound of the head in a month or two may well bee healed: but the blemish of their good-name during life will neuer be remoued.
Laertius sayth in his booke of the liues of Phylosophers, that Dyogenes being asked of one of his neighbours, what they were that ordayned theyr Lawes? Aunswered in this wise.
Thou shalt vnderstand, my friend, that the earnest whole desire of our Fore-fathers, and all the intentions of the phylosophers, was only to instruct A prettie sentence. them in their Common-wealth, how they ought to speake, how to be occupyed, how to eate, how to sleepe, how to treat, how to apparrel, how to trauell, and how to rest: And in this consisteth all the wealth of worldly wisedome.
In deede this Phylosopher in his aunswer touched an excellent point: For the Law was made to none other end, but only to brydle him that liueth without Reason or Law.
To men that will liue in rest, and without trouble in this life, it is requisite and necessarie that they chuse to themselues some kinde and manner of Liuing, whereby they may maintaine their house in good-order, and conforme [Page] their liues vnto the same.
That estate ought not to be as the folly of the person doth desire, nor as may bee most pleasant to the delights of the bodie: but as reason teacheth them, and God commaundeth them, for the surer saluation of theyr soules. For, the Children of vanitie embrace that onely, which the sensuall appetite desireth: and reiect that which Reason commaundeth.
Since the time that Trees were created, they alwayes (remaining in their first nature vntill this present day) doe beare the same leafe and fruite: which things are plainly seen in this: that the Palme beareth Dates, the Fig-tree figs, the Nut-tree Nuttes, the Peare-tree Peares, the Apple-tree Apples, the Chestnut-tree chest-nuts, the Oke Acornes: and to conclude, I say, all things haue kept their first nature, saue onely the Sinnefull-Man, which hath fallen by malice.
The Planettes, the Starres, the Heauens, the Water, the Earth, the Ayre, and the Fire: the brute beasts, and the The trees of the earth sheweth the malice of man. Fishes, all continue in the same estate wherein they were first created: not complaining nor enuying the one the other. Man complaineth continually, hee is neuer satisfyed, and alwayes coueteth to chaunge his estate. For the shepheard would be a Husbandman, the husbandman a Sqiure, the Squire a Knight, the Knight a King, the King an Emperour, &c. Therefore I say, that fewe is the number of them that seeke amendment of life: but infinite are they that trauell to better their estate, and to increase their goods.
The decay of the Common-wealth (at this present) through all the world is, that the drye and withered Okes, which haue been nourished vpon the sharpe mountains, would now seeme to be daintie. Date-trees cherished in the pleasant gardains. I meane, that those which yesterday could haue bin pleasant with drye Acornes in a poore cottage at home: at this day will not eate but of delicate Dishes in other mens houses abrode.
What estate men ought to take vpon them, to keepe their conscience A good lesson for all persons to follow. pure, and to haue more rest in theyr life, a man cannot easily describe. For ther is no state in the Church of God, but men may therin (if they will) serue God, and profite themselues. For, there is no kinde of life in the world, but the wicked (if they perseuer and continue therein) may slaunder their persons, and also lose their soules.
Plinie in an Epistle that hee wrote to Fabatus his friend, saith: There is nothing among mortall men more common and daungerous, then to giue place to vaine imaginations, wherby a man beleeueth the estate of one to bee much better then the estate of another. And hereof it proceedeth, that the World doeth blinde men so, that they will rather seeke that which is an other mans by trauell and daunger, then to enioy their owne with quiet and rest.
I say the state of Princes is good, if they abuse it not. I say the state of the people is good: if they behaue themselues obediently. I say the state of the rich is good, if they will Godly vse it. I say the estate of the Religious is good, if they be able to profite others. I say the estate of the communaltie is good, if they will content themselues: I say the estate of the poore is good, if they haue pacience. For it is no merite to suffer troubles, if wee haue not pacience therein.
During the time of this our miserable life we cannot denie, but in euery estate there is both trouble & danger. For then onely our estate shall be perfite, when we shall come gloriously in soule and bodie without the feare of death: and also when we shall reioyce without daungers in life.
[Page] Returning againe to our purpose, (Mightie Prince) although wee all be of value little, wee all haue little, we all can attaine little, wee all know little, we all are able to doe little, we all loue but little: yet in all this little, the state of Princes seemeth some great and high thing. For that worldly men say, There is no such felicitie in this life, as to haue authoritie to cōmaund many, and to be bound to obey none. But if eyther subiects knew how deere Princes by their power to command, or if princes knew how sweet a thing it is to liue in quiet, doubtles the subjects would pittie their rulers, and the rulers would not enuie their subiects. For, full fewe are the pleasures which Princes enjoy, in respect of the troubles that they endure.
Since then, the estates of Princes is greater then all, that hee may do more then all, is of more value then all, vpholdeth more then all: And finally, that from thence proceedeth the gouernement of all, it is more needefull that the House, the Person, and the life of a Prince, be better gouerned and ordered then all the rest. For, euen as by the meate-yard the Marchaunt measureth all his wares: So by the life whole of the Prince is measured the whole common-weale.
Many sorrowes endureth the woman in nourishing a way-ward child: great trauell taketh a Schoolmaster in A comparison necessiry to be respected. teaching an vntoward scholler: much paines taketh an Officer in gouerning a multitude ouer-great. How great then is the paine and perill, wherevnto I offer my selfe, in taking vpon mee to order the life of such an one, vpon whose life dependeth all the good estate of a Common-weale?
For, Noble Princes and great Lords ought of vs to bee serued, and not offended: wee ought to exhort them, not to vexe them: wee ought to encreate them, not to rebuke them: wee ought to aduise them, and not to defame them. Finally (I say) the right simple, reckon I that Surgion, which with the same plaisters hee layed to a harde heele, seeketh to cure the tender Eyes: I meane by this comparison, that my purpose is not to tell Princes and Noble-men in this booke what they be, but to warne them what they ought to bee: not to tell them what they do, but to aduise them what they ought to doe. For, that Noble-man which will not amende his life for remorse of his owne conscience: Iidoe thinke hee will doe it for the writing of my pen.
Paulus Dyaconus the first Hystoriographer, in the second booke of his Commentaryes, sheweth an antiquitie, right worthie to remember, and also pleasaunt to read: Although indeed to the hinderaunce of my selfe I shall rehearse it.
It is, as of the Henne, who by long scraping on the Dung-hill, discouereth the knife, that shall cut her owne throate. Thus was the case, Hanniball the most A Sentence of Paulus Dyaconus: renowmed Prince and captain of Carthage (after hee was vanquished by the aduenturous Scipio) fled into Asia, to king Antiochus, a prince then liuing of great vertue, who receyued him into his realme, tooke him into his protection, and right honourably intertayned him in his house. And truly king Antiochus did heerein, as a pittyfull prince: For what can more beautifie the honour of a Prince, then to succour Nobilitie in their needefull estate?
These two Noble Princes vsed diuers exercises to spende the time honourablie: and thus they diuided their time. Sometime to hunt in the mountains, otherwhiles to disporre them in the fields, oft to view their Armeys: But chiefly, they resorted to the Schooles, to heare the Phylosophers. And truely they did like wise and skilfull men. For there is no houre in a day otherwise [Page] so well employed, as in hearing a wise pleasant tongued man. There was at a time in Ephesus a famous Philosopher called Phormio, which openly and publikely read and taught the people of the realme. And one day as these two Princes came into the Schoole, the Philosopher Phormio chaunged the matter whereupon he read, and of a sudden began to talke of the meanes and wayes that Princes ought to vse in warre, and of the order to bee kept in giuing battell: Such, so strange, and high phrased was the matter which hee talked of, that not onely they maruelled which neuer before saw him: but euen those also that of long time had daily heard him. For herein curious and flourishing wits shew their excellency, in that they neuer want fresh matter to entreate vpon.
Greatly gloried the King Antiochus, that this Philosopher (in presēce of this strange Prince) had so excellently spoken, so that strangers might vnderstand he had his realme stored with wise men: For couragious and noble Princes esteem nothing so precious, as to haue men valiāt to defend their Frontiers, and also wise to gouerne their common-weales.
The Lecture read, King Antiochus demaunded of the Prince Hannibal, how he liked the talke of the Philosopher Formio? to whom Hanibal stoutly answered, and in his answer shewed himselfe to bee of that stoutnesse he was the same day, when he wan the great battell at Cannas: for although noble hearted and couragious Princes lose all their estates and realmes: yet they will neuer confesse their harts to be ouerthrowne nor vanquished: And these were the words that at that time Hannibal sayde. Thou shalt vnderstand K. Antiochus that I haue seene diuers doting old men, yet I neuer saw a more dotard foole thē Phormio, whom thou callest such a great Philosopher: For the greatest kinde of folly is, when a man that hath but a little vaine science, presumeth to teach not those which haue onely science, also such as haue most certaine experience.
Tell me King Antiochus, what hart can brooke with patience, or what tongue can suffer with silence, to see a silly man (as this Philosopher is) nourished all his life time in a corner of Greece, studying Philosophie, to presume, as hee hath done, to talke before the prince Hannibal of the affayres of warre, as though hee had beene eyther Lord of Affrique, or Captaine of Rome? Certes, hee eyther full little knoweth himselfe, or else but little esteemeth vs: For it appeareth by his vaine wordes, hee would seeme to know more in matters of warre, by that hee hath read in bookes, then doth Hanniball by the sundry & great battels which he hath fought in the fields.
Oh King Antiothus, how farre and how great is the difference, betweene the estate of Phylosophers, and the state of Captaines: betweene the skyll to reade in Schooles, and the knowledge to rule an Armey: betweene the science that wise men haue in bookes, and the experience that the others haue in warre: betweene their skill to write with the penne, and ours to fight with the Sword: betweene one that for his pastime is set round with deskes of bookes, and an other in perill of life, encompassed with troups of Enemyes. For, many there are which with great eloquence, in blazing deeds don in warres, can vse their tongues: but fewe are those that at the brunte haue hearts to aduenture their liues.
This Phylosopher neuer saw man of war in the field, neeer saw one Armey of men discomfited by an other, neuer [Page] heard the terrible Trumpet sound to the horrible & cruel slaughter of men, neuer saw the Treasons of some, nor vnderstood the cowardnes of others, neuer saw how few they be that fight, nor how many ther are that run away. Finally (I say) as it is seemly for a Phylosopher and a learned man, to praise the profite of peace: Euen so it is in his mouth a thing vncomely, to prate of the perills' of warre.
If this Phylosopher hath seene no one thing with his Eyes that hee hath spoken, but onely read them in sundry bookes, let him recount them to such as haue neyther seene nor read them: For, warlike feates are better learned in the bloudy fields of Affricke, then in the beautifull schooles of Greece.
Thou knowest right well (king Antiochus) that for the space of thirty and sixe yeares, I had continuall and daungerous warres, as well in Italie as in Spayne: In which Fortune did not fauour mee (as is alwayes her manner to vse those, which by great stoutnesse and manhood, enterprise things high, and of much difficultie:) a witnesse whereof thou seest mee here, who before my beard beganne to growe was serued: and now it is hoare, I my selfe beginne to serue.
I sweare vnto thee by the God Mars (king Antiochus) that if any man did aske mee, how hee should vse and behaue himselfe in warre: I would not aunswer him one word. For they are things which are learned by Experience of deedes, and not by prating in words. Although Princes beginne warres by justice, and followe them The end of warre both fickle & vnconstant. with wisedome, yet the ende standeth vppon fickle Fortune, and not of force, nor pollicie.
Diuerse and sundrie other things Hannibal sayde vnto king Antiochus: who so bee desirous to see, let him reade in the Apothegmes of Plutarche: This example (Noble Prince) tendeth rather to this end, to condemne my boldnesse, and not to commend my enterprise, saying that the affayres of the common wealth bee as vnknowne to mee, as the dangers of the warres were to Phormio. Your Maiestie may iustly say vnto me, that I being a poor simple man (brought vp a great while in a rude Countrey) doe greatly presume to describe, how so puissant a Prince as your Highnes ought to gouerne himselfe and his Realme: For of truth, the more ignorant a man is of the troubles and alterations of the world, the better he shall be counted in the sight of God.
The estate of Princes is to haue great traines about them, and the estate of religious men is to bee solitary: for the seruant of God ought to be alwaies void from vaine thoughts, & to be euer accompanied with holy meditations. The estate of Princes is alwayes vnquiet: but the state of the religious is to bee enclosed: For otherwise he aboue all others may be called an Apostata, That hath his body in the Cell, and his heart in the market place.
To Princes it is necessary to commune and speake with all men, but for the religious it is not decent to be cō uersant with the world: For solitary men (if they do as they ought) should occupy their hands in trauel, their bodies in fasting, their tongue in prayer, and their heart in contemplation. The estate of Princes for the most part is employed to war, but the estate of religious is to desire & procure peace: For if the Prince would study to passe his bounds, and by battell to shed the bloud of his enemies: the religious ought to shed teares, and pray to God for his sinnes. O that it pleased Almighty God, as I know what my bounden duty is in my heart, so that hee would giue me grace to accomplish the same in my deedes.
[Page] Alas, when I ponder with my selfe the weightines of my matter, my Pen (through slouth and negligence is readie to fall out of my hand) and I halfe minded to leaue off mine enterprize. My intent is to speake against my selfe in this case. For, albeit men may know the affaires of Princes by experience: yet they shall not know how to speake nor write them but by science.
Those which ought to counsell princes, those which ought to reforme the life of princes, and that ought to instruct them, ought to haue a cleare iudgement, an vpright minde, their words aduisedly considered, their doctrine wholesome, and their life without suspition.
For, who so wil speake of high things, hauing no experience of them: is like vnto a blinde man, that would leade and teach him the way, which seeth better then hee himselfe. This is the sentence of Xenophon the great, which saieth. There is nothing harder in this life, then to know a wise man. And the A speech of Xenophon. reason which hee gaue was this.
That a wise man cannot bee knowne, but by another wise man: wee may gather by this which Xenophon sayeth: That as one wise man cannot be knowne but by another wise man: so likewise it is requisite that he should be, or haue bin a Prince, which should write of the life of a Prince. For, hee that hath bin a marriner, and hath sailed but one yeare on the Sea: shall bee able to giue better counsell and aduise, then he that hath dwelled ten yeares in the hauen.
Xenophon wrote a booke touching the institution of princes, & bringeth in Cambyses the king, how hee taught, and spake vnto king Cyrus his sonne. And he wrote an other book likewise of the Arte of Chiualry, and brought in king Philip, how he ought to teach his sonne Alexander to fight. For the philosophers thought that writing of no authoritie, that was not entituled and set foorth vnder the Names of those Princes, who had experience of that they wrote.
Oh if an aged Prince would with his penne (if not with word of mouth) declare, what misfortunes haue happened since the first time hee beganne to raigne: how disobedient his subjects haue bin vnto him, what griefes his seruants haue wroght against him, what vnkindnesse his Friendes haue shewed him: what wiles his enemies haue vsed towards him, what daunger his person hath escaped: what jarres hath bin in his Pallace; what faultes they haue layde against him, how manie times they haue deceyued straungers: Finally, what griefes hee hath had by day, and what sorrowfull sighs he hath fetched in the night: Truely I thinke (and in my thought I am nothing deceiued) that if a prince would declare vnto vs his whole life, and that hee would particularly shewe vs euery thing, wee would both wonder at that bodie which had so much suffered: and also we would be offended with that heart which had so greatly dissembled.
It is a troublesome thing, a dangerous thing, and an insolent and proud enterprise, for a man to take vpon him with a penne to gouerne the Commonwealth, and with a Prince to reason of his life. For in deed men are not perswaded to liue well by faire words, but by vertuous deedes. And therefore not How dāgerous a thing it is to meddle with Princes affaires. without cause I say, that hee is not wise, but very arrogant, that dare presume vnasked to giue a Prince counsell. For princes in many things haue their mindes occupyed, and haughtely bent, and som of them also are affectionate, and whereas wee (peraduenture) thinke to haue them mercifull, wee finde them more angrie and heauie against vs.
For, counsell doeth more harme then profite, if the giuer thereof be not very wise, and hee also which receyueth it [Page] very pacient. I haue not bin a Prince, for to know the trauels of Princes, nor am as president to counsell Princes: and yet I was so bolde to compile this Booke: it was not vpon presumption to counsell a Prince, so much as by an humble sort to giue mine aduise. For to giue counsell, I confesse I haue no credite: but to giue them aduise, it sufficeth mee to bee a subiect.
What the order is in that I haue taken in this Booke: how profitable it is to all men, and how vnpleasaunt to no man: how wholsom and profound doctrine in it is contayned, and how the Historyes bee heerein applyed: I will not that my pen doe write, but they themselues shall judge, which shall read this worke.
We see it oft come to passe that diuers Bookes doe loose their estimation: not for that they are not very good and excellent: but because the Authour hath been too presumptuous and vaine-glorious. For, in mine opinion, for a man to praise his owne wrytings much, is nothing else but to giue men occasion to speake euill both of him, and of his workes.
Now, let no man thinke that I haue written this which is written without great aduisement and examination. I doe confesse, before the Redeemer of the whole world, that I haue consumed so many yeares to seeke what I should The paines that the Authour tooke in this booke. write, that these two yeares, one day hath scarcely escaped me, wherein my Pen hath not done his dutie, to write or correct in this worke. I confesse that I tooke great paines in writing it, for of truth it hath been written twice with mine owne hand, and thrice with another mans hand. I confesse I haue read and searched, in diuers and sundrie partes, manie good and straunge books, to the end I might finde good and pleasaunt doctrine: and besides that, I trauelled much to set and apply the Hystories to the purpose. For, it is an vnseemely thing to applie an hystorie without a purpose, I had great respect, in that I was not so briefe in my wrytings, that a man might note mee to bee obscure: nor yet in anie thing so long, that any man should slaunder mee with too much talke.
For, all the excellencie of Wryting consisteth, where many and goodly Sentences are declared in fewest and aptest words. For, oft times the long stile is loathsome and tedious both to the Hearers and Readers.
Nero the Emperour was in loue with a Ladie in Rome named Pompeia, the which in beautie (to his fantasie,) exceeded all others. In the ende partly with intreatie, partly with Money The inordinate loue betweene Nero and Pompeia. and presents, he obtained of her that hee desired. For, in this case of loue, where prayers and importunities bee paciently heard, resistance doth lacke.
The inordinate loue that Nero bare to Pompeia, proceeded of the yealow haires she had: which were of the colour of Amber, and in praise of her he compiled diuers, and sundry songs in Heroicall-Meeter: and with an instrument sang them himselfe in her presence.
Nero was a sage Prince, wise, and excellently well learned in the Latine tongue, and also a good Musitian: yet Plutarch in his book of the jests of noble women (to declare the vanitie and lightnes of Nero) reciteth this history: and describing Pompeia, that her bodie was small, her fingers long, her mouth proper, her eyelids thin, her nose somwhat sharpe, her teeth small, her lips red, her necke white, her fore-head broad, and finally, her eyes great, and rowling, her brest large & well proportioned: What think you would Nero haue done, if hee had so affectionately set his fantasie vpon al other her beautiful properties, since that for the loue only of her yellow locks, he was depriued both of his wisdom, & also senses. For vaine & light men loue commonly not [Page] that which reason commandeth but that which their appetite desireth.
The loue of the Emperour increased with folly so much, that not onely he counted seuerally al the haires that The folly of the Emperour Nero described. his louer Pompeia had on her head, but also gaue to euery hayre a proper name, and in prayse of euery one of them made a song, insomuch that this effeminate Prince spent more time in banqueting and playing with his louer Pompeia, then he did to reform and amend the faults of the common wealth: yea, his folly so much surmoū ted all reason, that he commaunded a combe of golde to bee made, and therewith hee himselfe combed her yellow locks. And if it chaunced that any one hayre in combing fell off, hee by and by caused it to be set in golde, offered it vp in the Temple to the Goddesse Iuno: For it was an ancient custome among the Romanes, that the thinges which they entirely loued (whether it were good or euill) should bee offered vp to their gods. And when it was once knowne that Nero was so in loue with those haires of Pompeia which were of the color of amber, all the Ladies endeauoured themselues, not onely to make artificially theyr hayre of that colour, but also to weare their garments and other attires of the same colour, in somuch that both men and women did vse collers of amber, brooches, and ringes set with amber, and all their other iewels were of amber. For alwayes it hath beene seene, and euer shall be, that those things whereunto the Prince is most addicted, the people follow, and aboue all other couet the same.
Before this Emperour Nero plaied this light part in Rome, the amber stones was had in little estimation, & after that hee set so much by it, there was no precious stone in Rome, so much esteemed: Yea, and furthermore, the Marchant gained nothing so much (whether it were in golde or silke) as he did in the amber stones, nor brought any kind of marchandize to Rome more precious, or more vendible then that was. I do maruell at this vanitie, foras-much as the children of the world do loue, desire, and labour, more to follow the straunge follie of another: then to furnish and supplie their owne proper necessitie.
Therefore returning againe to my purpose, (most excellent Prince,) by this example you may coniecture what I would say, that is, that if this writing were accepted vnto Princes, I am assured it would be refused of no man: And if any man would slanderously talke of it, hee durst not, remē bring that your Maiesty hath receyued it: For those things which Princes take to their custody, wee are bound to defend, and it is not lawfull for vs to diminish their credite.
Suppose that this my worke were not so profound as it might be of this matter, nor with such eloquence set out as many other bookes are: yet I dare bee bolde to say, that the Prince shall take more profit by reading of this worke, then Nero did by his loue Pompeia: For in the end by reading and studying good bookes, men turn and become sage and wise, and by keeping ill company, they are counted fooles and vitious.
My meaning is not, nor I am not so importunate and vnreasonable, to perswade Princes that they should so fauour my doctrine, that it should be in like estimation now in these parts, [...]a the amber was there in Rome. But that onely which I require and demaund is, that the time which Nero spent in singing and telling the hayres of his loue Pompeia: should now bee employed to redresse the wrongs & faults of the common wealth. For the noble and worthy Prince ought [Page] to employ the least part of the day in the recreation of his person: After hee hath giuen audience to his Counsellours, to the Ambassadours, to the great Lords and Prelates, to the rich and poore, to his own countrey men & strangers, and after that he be com into his Priuy Chamber, then my desire is, that hee would reade this Treatise, or som other better then this: for in Princes chambers oftentimes those of the Priuie Chamber, and other their familiars lose great time in reciting vaine and trifling matters, and of small profit, the which might better bee spent in reading some good good booke.
In all worldly affayres that wee do, and in all our bookes which we compile, it is a great matter to bee fortunate: For to a man that fortune doth not fauour, diligence without doubt can little auaile. Admit that fortune were against mee, in that this my worke should bee acceptable vnto your Maiesty, without comparison it should be a great griefe and dishonour vnto mee to tel you what should be good to reade for your pastime, if on the other part you would not profite by my counsell and aduise: For my mind was not onely to make this booke, to the end Princes should reade it for a pastime, but to that end (in recreating themselues) sometimes they might thereby also take profit.
Aulus Gelius in the 12. Chapter of his third booke entituled De nocte attica, sayde that amongst all the Schollers which the diuine Plato had, one A commendation of Demosthenes the Philosopher. was named Demostenes, a man among the Greekes most highly esteemed, & of the Romanes greatly desired. Because hee was in his liuing seuere, and in his tongue and doctrine a very Satyre. If Demosthenes had come in the time of Phalaris the tyrant, when Grecia was peopled with tirants, and that hee had not beene in Platoes time, when it was replenished with Philosophers, truely Demosthenes had been as cleare a lanterne in Asia, as Cicero the great was in Europe.
Great good hap hath a notable man to bee born in one age, more then in another. How happy a thing it is to liue vnder a vertuous prince. I meane, that if a valiant Knight come in the time of a couragious and stout Prince such a one truly shall bee esteemed and set in great authority. But if hee come in the time of an other effeminate and couetous Prince, bee shall not bee regarded at all: For hee will rather esteeme one that wel augment his treasure at home, then him that can vanquish his enemies abroad.
So likewise it chanceth to wise and vertuous men, which if they come in the time of vertuous and learned princes, are esteemed and honoured: but if they come in time of vaine and vicious Princes, they make small account of them. For it is an auncient custom among vanities children, not to honour him which to the Common wealth is most profitable: but him which to the Prince is most acceptable.
The end why this is spoken (Most puissant Prince) is because the two renowmed Philosophers were in Greece both at one time: and because the diuine Philosopher Plato was so much esteemed and made of, they did not greatly esteeme the Philosopher Demosthenes: For the eminent & high renowne of one alone, diminisheth the fame and estimation (among the people) of many. Although Demosthenes was such a one indeed as wee haue sayde, that is to witte, eloquent of tongue, ready of memory, sharpe and quicke of witte, in liuing seuere, sure and profitable in giuing of counsell, in renowne excellent, in yeares very auncient, and in Philosophy a man right well learned: yet hee refused not to goe to the Schooles of Plato to heare morall Philosophie. He [Page] that shall reade this thing or heare it, ought not to maruel, but to follow it, and to profit likewise in the same, that is to vnderstand, that one Philosopher learned of another, and one wise man suffred himself to be taught of another: For knowledge is of such a quality, that the more a man knoweth, dayly there encreaseth in him a desire to know more. All things of this life (after they haue beene tasted and possessed) cloyeth a man, wearieth and troubleth him, true science onely excepted, which neuer doth cloy, weary, nor trouble them. And if it happen wee weary any, it is but the eyes, which are wearied with looking and reading: and not the spirite with seeling and tasting.
Many Lords, and my familiar friends doe aske mee how it is possible I should liue with so much study? And I also demaund of them, how it is possible they should liue in such continuall idlenes? For considering the prouocation and assaults of the flesh, the daungers of the world, the temptations of the deuil, the treasons of enemies, & importunity of friends: what hart can suffer so great and continuall trauell, but onely in reading and comforting himselfe in bookes? Truely a man ought to haue more compassion of a simple ignorant man then of a poore man: For thereis no greater pouerty vnto a man then for to lacke wisedom, whereby he should know how to gouerne himselfe.
Therefore following our matter, the case was such, one day Demosthenes (going to the schoole of Plato) saw in the market place of Athens a great assembly of people, which were hearing a Philosopher newly come vnto that place: and hee spake not this without a cause, that there was a great company of people assembled. For that naturally the common people are desirous to heare new and strange things.
Demosthenes asked what Philosopher hee was, after whom so many people went? and when it was aunswered him that it was Calistratus the Philosopher, a man which in eloquēce was very sweete and pleasant: hee determined to stay and heare him, to the end hee would know, whether it were true or vaine that the people tolde him: For oftentimes it hapneth that among the people some get thē selues great fame, more by fauor, then by good learning.
The difference betwixt the diuine [...]. Philosopher Plato and Calistratus was, in that Plato was exceedingly wel learned, and the other very eloquent: and thus it came to passe, that in liuing they followed Plato, and in eloquence of speech they did imitate Calistratus. For, there are diuers men sufficiently well learned, which haue profound doctrine, but they haue no way nor meanes to teach it vnto others.
Demosthenes hearing Calistratus but once, was so farre in loue with his doctrine, that he neuer after heard Plato: nor entered into his Schoole, for to harken to any of his lectures.
At which newes diuers of the Sages and Wise men of Grecia maruelled much, seeing that the tongue of a man was of such power, that it had put all their doctrine vnto silence.
Although I apply not this example, I doubt not but that your Maiesty vnderstandeth to what ende I haue declared it.
And moreouer I say, that although Princes and great Lordes haue in their Chambers Bookes so well corrected, and men in their Courts so well learned, that they may worthily keepe the estimation which Plato had in his Schoole: yet in this case it should not displease me [Page] that the difference that was between Plato and Calistratus, should bee betweene Princes and this Booke. God forbid, that by this saying men should thinke, I meane to disswade Princes from the company of the sage men, or from reading of any other booke but this; for in so doing, Plato should bee reiected which was diuine, and Calistratus embraced which was more worldly. But my desire is, that sometimes they would vse to reade this booke a little, for it may chaunce they shall finde some wholesome counsell therein, which at one time or other may profite them in their affayres: For the good and vertuous Prince ought to graffe in their memory the wise sayings which they reade, and forget the cankred iniuries and wrongs which are done them.
I do not speake it without a cause, that hee that readeth this my writing, shall finde in it some profitable counsell: For all that which hath bin written in it, hath beene euery word and sentence with great diligence so well wayed and corrected, as if therein onely consisted the effect of the whole worke.
The greatest griefe that learned men seele in their writing is, to thinke that if there bee many that view their doings to take profite thereby, they shall perceyue that there are as many more which occupie their tongues in the slaunder and disprayse thereof. In publishing this my worke, I haue obserued the manner of them that plant a new garden, wherein they set Roses which giue a pleasant sauour to the nose, they make faire greene plattes to delight the eyes, they graft fruitfull trees to bee gathered with the hands; but in the end as I am a man: so haue I written it for men, and consequently as a man I may haue erred: for there is not at this day so perfect a painter, but another will presume to amend his worke.
Those which diligently will endeauour themselues to reade this booke, shall finde in it very profitable counsels, very liuely lawes, good reasons, notable sayings, sentences very profound, worthy examples, and histories very ancient: For to say the truth, I had a respect in that the doctrine was auncient, and the Stile new. And albeit your Maiesty bee the greatest Prince of all Princes, and I the least of all your Subiects, you ought not for my base condition to disdaine to cast your eyes vpon this booke, nor to thinke scorne to put that thing in proofe which seemeth good. For a good letter ought to be nothing the lesse esteemed, although it be written with an euill pen.
I haue sayde, and will say, that Princes and great Lords, the stouter, the richer, and the greater of renowme they bee, the greater need they haue of all men of good knowledge about them, to counsell them in their affayres, and of good bookes which they may reade: and this they ought to doe as well in prosperity, as in aduersity, to the end that their affayres in time conuenient, may be debated and redressed: For otherwise they should haue time to repent, but no leasure to amend.
Plinie, Marcus Varro, Strabo, and Macrobius, which were Historiographers, Diuers Historiographers at controuersie, what things were most authentike. no lesse graue then true, were at great controuersie, improouing what things were most authenticke in a common weale, and at what time they were of all men accepted.
Seneca in an Epistle hee wrote to Lucullus, praysed without ceasing the Common wealth of the Rhodians, in the which (with much ado) they bent themselues altogether to keepe one selfe thing, and after they had therupon agreede, they kept and maintained it inuiolably.
[Page] The diuine Plato in the sixt booke entituled De Legibus ordained and commanded, that if any Cittizen did inuent any new thing, which neuer before was read, nor heard of, the inuentour thereof should first practise the same for the space of ten yeares in his own house, before it was brought into the Common-wealth, and before it should bee published vnto the people, to the end, if the inuention were good, it should be profitable vnto him: and if it were nought, that then the daunger and hurt thereof should light onely on him.
Plutarch in his Apothegmes sayeth, that Lycurgus vpon grieuous penalties did prohibite, that none should bee so hardy in his Common wealth to goe wandring into strange Countries, nor that hee should be so hardy to admit any strangers to come into his house: and the cause why this law was made, was to the end strangers should not bring into their houses things strange, and not accustomed in their Common wealth, and that they trauelling through strange countries, should not learne new Customes.
The presumption of men now adayes is so great, and the consideration of the people so small, that what soeuer a man can speake, he speaketh, what so euer he can inuent he doth inuent, what hee would hee doth write, and it is no maruell, for there is no man that wil speak against them. Nor the common people in this case are so light, that amongst them you may dayly see new deuises, and whether it hurt or profit the Common wealth they force not.
If there came at this day a vaine man amongst the people, which was neuer seene nor heard of before, if hee bee any thing subtill: I aske you but this question: Shall it not bee easie for him to speake, and inuent what hee listeth, to set forth what he pleaseth, to perswade that which to him seemeth good, and all his sayings to be beleeued? truly it is a wonderfull thing, and no lesse slaunderous, that one should be sufficient to peruert the senses and iudgements of all, and all not able to represse the lightnesse and vanity of one. Things New things and vnaccustomed ought not to be vsed. that are new, and not accustomed, neyther Princes ought to allow, nor yet the people to vse: For a newe thing ought no lesse to bee examined and considered, before it be brought into the cōmon wealth, then the great doubts which arise in mens mindes. Ruffinus in the Prologue of his secōd Booke of his Apologie reprooueth greatly the Egyptians because they were too full of deuises, and blamed much the Grecians, because they were too curious in speaking fine wordes: and aboue all other hee greatly prayseth the Romanes; for that they were very hard of beleefe, and that they scarcely alwayes credited the sayings of the Greekes, and because they were discreete in admitting the inuentions of the Egyptians.
The Author hath reason to prayse the one, and disprayse the other. For it proceedeth of a light iudgement, to credit all the thinges that a man heareth, and to doe all that he seeth.
Returning therefore now to our matter. Marcus Varro sayde, that there were fiue things in the Worlde very hard to bring in, whereof none (after they were commonly accepted) were euer lost or forgotten, for euen as things vainely begunne, are easily left of: so thinges with great feare accepted, are with much care and diligence to bee kept and obserued.
The first thing that chiefly throghout all the World was accepted, was all men for to liue together: that is for to say, that they should [Page] make places, Towns, Villages, Citties and Common wealthes. For according to the saying of Plato, the first & best inuentors of the common-wealth were the Antes, which (according to to the experience wee see) do liue together, trauell together, do go together, & also for the winter they make prouision together: and furthermore The prouidence of the Ants. none of these Antes doe giue themselues to any priuate thing, but all theirs is brought into their common wealth.
It is a maruellous thing to behold the common wealth of the ants, how nearely they trim their hils, to behold how they sweepe away the graine, when it is wette, and how they drye it when they feele any moysture, to behold how they come from their work and how the one doth not hurt the other: and to behold also how they do reioyce the one in the others trauell, and that which is to our greatest confusion is, that if it comes so to passe, 50000. Ants wil liue in a litle hillocke together, and two men onely cannot liue in peace and concord in a common wealth.
Would to God the wisedome of men were so great to keep themselus as the prudence of the ants is to liue: When the world came to a certaine age, and mens wits waxed more fine, then tirants sprang vp which oppressed the poore, theeues that robbed the rich, rebels that robbed the quiet, murderers that slew the patient, the idle that eate the swet of other mens browes: all the which things considered by them which were vertuous: they agreed to assemble and liue together, that thereby they might preserue the good, and withstand the wicked. Macrobius affirmeth this in the second booke of Scipions dreame, saying, That couetousnes ond auarice was the greatest cause why men inuented the commonwealth. Plinie in the seuenth booke 56. Chapter sayth, the first that made small assemblies were the Athenians; and the first that built great Cities, were the Egyptians.
The second thing that was accepted throughout al the world, were the letters which wee read, whereby wee take profite in writing. According whereunto Marcus Varro sayth, the Egyptians prayse themselues and say, that they did inuent them, and the Assyrians affirme the contrary, and sweare, that they were shewed first of all amongst them.
Plinie in the 7. booke sayth, that in the first age, there was in the alphabet no more then 16. letters, & that great A description of the Alphabet. Palamedes at the siege of Troy, ladded other 4. and Aristotle saith, that immediatly after the beginning, there were found 18. letters. And that afterwards Palamedes did add but 2. and so there were 20. and that the Philosopher Epicarmus did adde other 2. which were 22. it is no great matter, whether the Egyptians or the Assyrians first foūd the letters. But I say and affirme, that it was a thing necessary for a common wealth, and also for the encrease of mans knowledge: For if wee had wanted letters and writings, wee could haue had no knowledge of the time past, nor yet our posterity could haue bin aduertised what was done in our daies.
Plutarch in the second booke entituled De viris illustribus, and Pliny in the seuenth booke, and 56. Chapter, doe greatly praise Pirotas, because hee first found the fire in a flint stone.
They greatly commended Protheus, because he inuented barneyes, and they highly extolled Panthasuea, because she inuented the hatchet. They praysed Citheus, because hee inuented the bowe, and the arrowes, they greatly praysed Phenisius, because hee inuented the Crossebow, and the sling.
[Page] They highly praised the Lacedemonians, because they inuented the Helmet, the Speare, and the Sworde, and moreouer, they commende those of Thessalie, because they inuented the combat on hors-back: and they commend those of Affrike, because they inuented the fight by Sea. But I doe praise, and continually will magnifie, not those which found the Art of fighting: and inuented weapons to procure warres, for to kill his neighbour: but those which found Letters, for to learne Science, and to make peace betweene two Princes.
What difference there is to wet the Penne with inke and to paint the Speare with bloud: to be enuironed with bookes, or to be laden with weapons. To studie how euery man ought to liue, or else to goe priuily and robbe in the Warres, and to kill his Neighbour. There is none of so vaine a iudgement, but will praise more the Speculation of the Sciences, then the practise of the warres. Because that in the ende, he that learneth sciences, learneth nought else but how he and others ought to liue. And he that learneth warlike feats, learneth none other thing, then how to slay his Neighbour, and to destroy others.
The third thing, that equally of all was accepted, were lawes. For admit that all men now liued together in common, if they would not be subiect one to another, there would contention arise amongst them, for that according to the saying of Plato, That there is no greater token of the destruction of a A worthy sentence of Plato: Common-weale, then when many rulers are chosen therein.
Plinie in his seuenth booke, 56. chap: sayth, that a Queene called Ceres, was the first that taught them to sowe in the fields, to grinde in Milles, to paste and bake in Ouens, and also shee was the first that taught the people to liue according to the Law. And by the meanes of these things our Fore-fathers called her a Goddesse.
Since the time we neuer haue seene heard, nor read of any realme, or other nation (as well strange as barbarous) whatsoeuer they were, but haue had Lawes, whereby the good were fauoured: and also institutions of grieuous paines, wherewith the wicked were punished.
Although truely I had rather, and it were better, that the good should loue reason: then feare the law. I speake of those which leaue to doe euill workes, for feare onely of falling into the punishments appoynted for euill doers. For, although men approue that which they do for the present, yet God condemaeth that which they desire.
Seneca in an epistle hee wrote vnto his friende Lucille, saide these wordes, Thou writest, vnto mee Lucille, that those of Scicile, haue carryed a great quantitie of Corne into Spaine, and into Affrike, the which was forbidden by a Romaine law, and therefore they haue deserued most grieuous punishment.
Now because thou art vertuous, Thou mayest teache mee to doe well: and I that am olde, will teach thee to say well: and this is, because that amongst wise and vertuous men it is enough to say, that the Law commaundeth, appoynteth, and suffereth this thing, but in as much as it is agreeing with reason. For, the crowne of the good, is reason, and the scourge of the wicked, is the law.
The fourth thing that commonly through the worlde amongst all men was accepted, was the Barbers. And let no man take this thing in mockery. For, if they doe reade Plinie, in the 59. chapter, and the seuenth booke, there they shall finde for a Trueth, that in those former times, the Romaines were in Rome 454. yeares, without eyther powling or shauing [Page] the h [...]ires off the bearde of anie man.
Marcus Varro said, that Publius [...] was the first that brought the barbers from Scicilie to Rome: But admit it were so or otherwise: yet notwithstanding, there was a great contention among the Romaines. For, they sayd, they thought it a rash thing for a man to commit his life vnto the curtesie of another.
Dyonisius the Syracusian neuer trusted his Beard with any barbor, but when his Daughters were very little, they clipped his beard with sisers: but after they became great, hee would not put his trust in them, to trimme his beard, but hee himselfe did burne it with the shales of nuttes.
This Dyonisius Syracusan, was demaunded why hee would not trust any Barbours with his beard? He aunswered, Because I know that there bee some which will giue more to the Barbor to take away my life, then I will giue to trimme my beard.
Plinie in the seuenth booke sayeth, that the great Scipio called Affrican, and the Emperour Augustus, were the first that caused them in Rome to shaue their beards. And I thinke the end why Plinie spake these things, was to exalt these two Princes, which had as great courage to suffer the rasours to touch their throats: as the one for to fight against Hanniball in Affricke, and the other, against Sextus Pompeius in Scicilie.
The fifte thing which commonly throgh the world was accepted, were the Dyalls and clockes which the Romains wanted a long time. For as Plinie and Marcus Varro say, the Romaines were without clockes in Rome, for the space of 595. yeares.
The curious Hystoriographers declare [...]. three manner of dyalls that were in old time: that is to say, Dyalls of the houres, Dyalls of the Sunne, and Dyalls of the Water. The dyall of the Sunne Aneximenides Millesius inuented: who was great Animandraes scholler. The dyall of the water Scipio Nasica inuented, & the dyall of houres, one of the Schollers of Thales the phylosopher inuented.
Now of all these Antiquities, which were brought into Rome, none of them were so acceptable to the Romaines, as the Dyalls were, whereby they measured the day by the houre. For, before they could not say, we will rise at seuen of the clocke, wee will dine at ten, we will see one the other at twelue: at one wee will doe that wee ought to doe.
But before they sayde, after the Sunne is vp wee wil doe such a thing, and before it goe downe, wee will do that wee ought to doe.
The occasion of declaring vnto you these fiue antiquities in this preamble, was to no other entent, but to call my Booke the Diall of Princes. The name of the Booke beeing new (as it is) may make the learning that is therin greatly to be esteemed. God forbid that I should bee so bolde to say, they haue been so long time in Spaine without dayes of learning, as they were in Rome without the Diall of the Sunne, the water, and of the houres: For that in Spaine haue beene alwaies Spayne cō mended for learned mē, & expert in the warres. men well learned in Sciences, and very expert in the warres. By great reason, and of greater occasion, the Princes ought to bee commended, the knights, the people, their wits, and the fertility of their Countrey: but yet to all these goodnesse, I haue seen many vnlearned bookes in Spaine, which as broken Dials deserue to bee cast into the fire to bee forged anew. I doe not speake it without a cause, that many bookes deserue to bee broken and burnt: For there are so many that without shame and honesty doe set forth bookes of loue of the world, at this day as boldlie, as if they taught them to despise and speake euill of the world.
[Page] It is pitty to see how many dayes and nights be consumed in reading vaine bookes (that is to say) Orson and Valentine, the Court of Venus, and the foure sonnes of Amon, and diuers other vaine bookes, by whose doctrine I dare boldly say, they passe not the time but in perdition: for they learne not how they ought to flye vice, but rather what way they may with more pleasure embrace it.
This Diall of Princes is not of sand, nor of the Sunne, nor of the houres, nor of the water, but it is the Diall of Life. For the other Dials serue to know what houre it is in the night, and what houre it is of the day: but this sheweth and teacheth vs, how wee ought to occupie our minds, and how to order our life.
The property of other Dials is, to order things publike, but the Nature The property of this [...]ooke of the Dyall of Princes. of this dyal of Princes is, to teach vs how to occupie our selues euerie houre, and how to amend our life euery moment.
It little auaileth to keepe the dyalls well, and to see thy Subiects dissolutely without any order, to range in routes, and dayly rayse debate and contention among themselues.
THE ARGVMENT OF THE BOOKE CALled THE DIALL OF PRINCES. Wherein the Authour declareth, his Intention and manner of proceeding.
ARchimenedes, the great and famous Philosopher, (to whom Marcus Marcellus for his knowledge sake granted life, and after vsing Nigromancy deserued death, being demanded what time was, sayde, That Time was the inuentor of all nouelies and a Register The definition of time according to Archimenedes. certaine of Antiquities, which seeth of it selfe, the beginning, the middest, & the ending of all things.
And finally, time is he that endeth all. No man can deny but the definition of this Philosopher is true: for if Time could speake, he would certifie vs of sundry things wherin we doubt, and declare them as a witnes of sight. Admit all things perish, and haue an end; yet one thing is exempted, and neuer hath end, which is truth, that amongst all things is priuiledged in such wise, that shee triumpheth of time, and not time of her: For according to the diuine saying, It shal bee more easie to see heauen and earth fall, then once truth to perish.
There is nothing so entier, but may bee diminished, nothing so healthfull but may bee diseased, nothing so strong but may bee broken, neyther any thing so wel kept, but may be corrupted And finally, I say, There is nothing but by time is ruled & gouerned, saue onely truth, which is subiect to none.
The fruits of the Spring time haue no force to giue sustenance, nor perfect sweetnesse to giue any fauour, but after that the Summer is past, and haruest commeth, they ripe: and then all that wee e ate nourisheth more, & giueth a better taste: I meane by this when the world began to haue wise men, the more Philosophers were esteemed for their good manners, the more they deserued to bee reproued for their euill vnderstanding, Plato in his second booke of the Commonwealth [Page] sayde, That the auncient Philosophers, as well Greekes as Egyptians, The saying [...]o Plato. and Caldees, which first began to behold the starres of heauen, and ascended to the toppe of the mount Olimpus to view the influences, and motions of the Planets of the earth, deserued rather pardon of their ignorance, then prayse for theyr knowledge.
Plato sayde further, that the Philosophers which were before vs, were the first that gaue themselus to search out the truth of the Elements in the Heauen, and the first which sowed errors in thinges naturall of the earth.
Homer in his Ilyades, agreeing with Plato, saieth: I condemne all that the auncient phylosophers knewe, but I greatly commend them for that they desired to know. Certes Homer saide well, and Plato saide not amisse: for, if amongst the first Phylosophers, this ignorance had not raigned, there had not beene such contrary Sects in euery Schoole.
He that hath read, not the books, which are lost, but the opinions which the auncient Phylosophers had, will graunt mee, though the knowledge were one, yet their sects were diuerse: that is to say, Cinici, Stoyci, Academici, Platonici, and Epicurei: which were as variable, the one from the other in their opinions, as they were repugnant in their conditions.
I will not, neither reason requireth, that my Pen should bee so dismeasured, as to reprooue those which are dead, for to giue the glory all onely to them that are aliue: For, the one of them knew not all, neyther were the other ignorant of all.
If hee deserue thanks that sheweth mee the way, whereby I ought to goe, no lesse then meriteth hee, which warneth mee of that place wherein wee may erre. The ignorance of our fore-Fathers, was but a guide to keepe vs from erring: for, the errour of them shewed vs the Trueth, to their much praise, and to our great shame. Therefore I dare boldly say, If wee that are now, had been then, wee had knowne lesse then they knewe. And if those were now, which were then, they would haue knowne more then we know. And that this is true it appeareth well: for that the auncient Phylosophers, through the great desire they had to knowe the Truth, of small and large wayes, the which wee now will not see, nor yet walke therein. Wherefore wee haue not so much cause to be wayle their ignoraunce, as they had reason to complaine The opiniō of Aulus Gellius cō cerning time. of our negligence. For, truth which is, (as Aulus Gellius saith) the daughter of Time, hath reuealed vnto vs the errours which wee ought to eschewe: and the true doctrines, which wee ought to follow.
What is there to see, but hath bin seene? what to discouer, but hath bin discouered? what is there to read, but hath bin read? what to write, but hath bin written? what is there to knowe, but hath bin knowne? Now-adayes, humaine malice is so experte, men so well able, and our wittes so subtill, that wee want nothing to vnderstand, neyther good, nor euill. And wee vndoe ourselues by seeking that vaine knowledge, which is not necessary for our life. No man vnder the pretence of ignoraunce can excuse his fault, since all men know, all men reade, and all men learne, that which is euident [...]n this case, as it shall appeare.
Suppose the Plough-man, and the Learned-man, do goe to the Law, and you shall perceyue the Labourer (vnder that simple garment) to forge to his Counsellour halfe a dozen of malitious trickes to delude his aduersarie as finely as the other that is learned, shall bee able to expound two or three Chapters of this booke. If men would employ their knowledge [Page] to honesty, wisedome, patience and mercy, it were well: but I am sorry they know so much, onely for that they subtilly deceiue, and by vsury abuse their neighbours, and keepe that they haue vniustly gotten, and dayly getting more, inuenting new trades: Finally, I say, if they haue any knowledge, it is not to amend their life, but rather to encrease their goods. If the deuil could sleep, as mē do, he might safely sleepe: for whereas he waketh to deceyue vs, wee wake to vndo our selues: Well, suppose that all this heretofore I haue sayde is true. Let vs now leaue aside craft, and take in hand knowledge. The knowledge which we attaine to is small, and that which wee should attain to so great, that all that wee know, is the least part of that wee are ignorant: Euen as in things naturall, the Elements haue their operations, according to the varietie of time: so morall Doctrines (as the aged haue succeeded) and sciences were discouered. Truly all fruites come not together, but when one fayleth, another commeth in season.
I meane, that neyther all the Doctors among the Christians, nor all the Philosophers among the Gentiles were concurrant at one time; but after the death of one good, there came another better. The chiefe wisdome which measured all thinges by iustice, and dispearseth them according to his bounty, will not that at one time they should bee all Wisemen, and at another time all simple: For it had not beene reason that one should haue had the fruit, and the other the leaues.
The old world that ranne in Saturnes dayes (otherwise called the golden world) was of a truth much esteemed of them that saw it, and greatlie commended of them that wrote of it: That is to say, it was not guided by the Sages which did guild it: but because there was no euill men, which did vnguilde it: For as the experience of the meane estate and Nobility teacheth vs, of one onely person dependeth as well the fame and renowne, as the infamy of a whole house and parentage.
That age was called golden, that is to say, of gold: and this our age is called yron, that is to say of iron. This difference was not, for that gold then was found, and now yron: nor for The reason why this is called the Iron-age. that in this our age there is want of them that be sage: but because the number of them surmounreth that be at this day malicious. I confesse one thing, and suppose many will fauour mee in the same.
Phauorin the Philosopher (which was master to Aulus Gelius, and his especiall friend) saide oft-times, that the Phylosophers in olde time, were holden in reputation: Because there were fewe teachers, and many learners: We now-adayes see the contrarie: For infinite are they which presume to bee Maisters: but fewe are they which humble themselues to be Schollers. A man may know how little Wise-men are esteemed at this houre, by the great veneration that the Phylosophers had, in the olde time.
What a matter is it to see Homer amongst the Grecians, Salomon amōgst the Hebrewes, Lycurgus amongst the Lacedemonians: Phoromeus also amongst the Greeks, Ptolomeus amongst the Egiptians, Liuius amongst the Romaines: and Cicero likewise amongst the Latines: Appolonius amongst the Indyans, and Secundus, amongst the Assyrians?
How happie were those Phylosophers, (to bee as they were, in those dayes) when the world was so full of simple personnes, and so destitute of Sage men: that there flocked great numbers out of diuers countreys, and [Page] straunge Nations, not onely to heare their doctrine: but also to see theyr persons.
The glorious Saint Hierome, in the prologue, to the Byble, sayth: When Rome was in her prosperitie, then wrote Titus Lyuius his deedes: yet notwithstanding, men came to Rome, more to speake with Titus Linius, then to see Rome, or the high capitol therof. Marcus Aurelius writing to his friend Pulio, saide these wordes: Thou shalt vnderstand (my Friende,) I was not chosen Emperor for the Noble bloud of my predecessors: nor, for the fauour I had amongst them now present: For there were in Rome, of greater bloud, and Riches then I, but the (Emperour Adrian my Maister) set his eyes vpon mee: and the Emperor Anthonie my Father in law, chose mee for his Sonne in law: for none other For what cause Marcus Aurelius was chosen Emperour. cause, but for that they saw me a friend of the Sages, and an enemie of the ignoraunt.
Happie was Rome to chuse so wise an Emperour, and no lesse happie was he to attaine vnto so great an Empire. Not for that hee was heire to his predecessours, but for that hee gaue his minde to studie. Truely, if that Age were then happie to enioy his person: no lesse happie shall ours bee now at this present, to enjoy his doctrine. Salust saith, they deserued great glory, which did worthie feates: and no lesser merited they, which wrote them in high stile.
What had Alexander the great bin, if Quintus-Curtius had not written of him? what of Vlysses, if Homer had not bin borne? what had Alcybiades bin, if Zenophon had not exalted him? what of Cyrus, if the phylosopher Chilo had not put his actes in memorie? what had been of Pyrrus king of the Epyrotes, if Hermicles chronicles were not? what had bin of Scipio the great Affricane, if it had not bin for the Decades of Titus Liuius? what had been of Traian, if the renowmed Plutarch had not bin his friend? what of Nerua, and Anthonius the meeke, if Phocion the Greeke had not made mention of them? How should wee haue knowne the stoute courage of Caesar, and the great prowesse of Pompeius, if Lucanus had not written them? what of the twelue Caesars, if Suetonius Tranquillus had not compyled a booke of their liues? And how should we haue knowne the antiquities of the Hebrues if the vpright Ioseph had not beene?
Who could haue knowne the comming of the Lombardes, into Italie, if Paulus Dyaconus had not writ it? How could we haue knowne the comming in, and the going out of the Gothes in Spayne if the curious Roderious had not showed it vnto vs?
By these things we haue spoken of before, the Readers may perceyue what is due vnto the Hystoriographers: who in my opinion, haue left as great memorie of them, for that they wrote with their pennes: as the Princes haue done, for that they did with their swords. I confesse I deserue nor to be named amongst the Sages, neyther for that I haue written and Translated, nor yet for that I haue composed.
Therefore (the Sacred and diuine letters set aside) there is nothing in the world so curiously written, but needeth correction: and as I say of the one, so will I say of the other, and that is: as I with my will doe renounce the glory, which the good for my learning would giue mee: so in like manner euill men shall not want, that against my will seeke to defame it.
Wee other writers, smally esteeme that labour and paines wee haue to write, although indeede wee are not ignorant of a thousaund enuious tongues, that will backbite it.
Many now adayes are so euil taught, [Page] or to say better, so enuious, that when the Author laboreth in his study, they play in the streetes: when he awaketh, they sleepe, when he fasteth, they eate: when hee sitteth turning the leaues of the booke: they goe hunting after vices abroade: yet for all that, they will presume to iudge, depraue, and condemne an other mans doctrine, as if they had the authoritie that Plato had in Greece, or the eloquence that Cicero had in Rome.
When I finde a man in the Latine tongue well seene, his vulgar tongue well p [...]lished, in hystories well grounded, in Greeke-letters very expert, and desirous to spend his time with good bookes: this so Heroicall and noble a personage, I would desire him to put my doctrine vnder his feete. For it is no shame, for a vertuous and wise man, to be corrected of an other wise man. Yet I would gladly know what patiēce can suffer, or heart can dissemble, when two or three bee assembled together at meate, and after (at the table or otherwise) one of them taketh a booke at aduenture in his handes against that which another will say it is The diuersity of mens opinions. too long, and another will say, it speaketh not to the purpose: another, it is very obscure: & another, the words are not well couched: another will say, all that is spoken is fayned; One will say, hee speaketh nothing of profite: another, hee is too curious, and the other, hee is too malicious. So that in speaking thus, the doctrine remaineth suspitious, and the Authour scapeth not scot-free.
Suppose them to be therefore such that speake it (as I haue spoken of) & that at the Table do finde such faults, sure, they deserue pardon: for they speake not according to the Bookes which they haue read, but according to the cups of wine which they haue drunke: For that, Hee that taketh not in iest which is spoken at the Table, knoweth not what iesting meaneth.
It is an olde custom to murmure at vertuous deedes, and into this rule entreth not onely those that make them, but also those which writethem afterwards.
Which thing seemeth to be true, for that Socrates was reproued of Plato, Plato of Aristotle, Aristotle of Auerois, Sicilius of Vulpitius, Lelius of Varro, Marinus of Ptolomeus, Ennius of Horace, Seneca of Aulus Gelius, Crastonestes of Strabo, Thessale of Gellian, Hermagoras of Cicero, Cicero of Salust, Origines of Saint Hierome, Hierome of Rufinus, Rufinus of Donatus. Donatus of Prosper, and Prosper of Lupus.
Then sith that in these men, and in their workes hath beene such need of correction, which were men of great knowledge, and Lanternes of the World: It is no maruell at all that I haue such fortune, since I know so little as I doe. Hee may worthily One ought not rashly to cōdemne another mans wryting. bee counted vaine and light, which at the first sight, as for onely once reading, will rashly iudge that which a wise man with much diligence & study hath written.
The Authors and Writers are oft times reproued, not of them which can translate, and compile workes: but of those which cannot reade, and yet lesse vnderstand them, to the entent simple folkes should count them wise, and take their parts in condemning this worke, and esteeme him for a great wise man. I take God to witnesse who can iudge, whether my intention were good or ill, to compile this worke, and also I lay this my doctrine at the feet of wise and vertuous men, to the end they may be protectors, and defendours of the same: For I trust in God, though som would come to blame (as diuers do) the simple words which I spake: yet others would not fayle to relate the good intention that I meant.
[Page] And to declare further I say, that diuers have written of the time of the sayde Marcus Aurelius, as Herodian wrote little, Eutropius lesse, Lampridius not so much, and Iulius Capitolinus somewhat more.
Likewise yee ought to know, that the Masters which taught Marcus Aurelius sciences, were Iunius Rusticus, Cinna Catullus, Sextus Cheronensis, which was nephew to the great Plutarke.
These three were those, that principally, as witnesses of sight, wrote the most part of his life and doctrine. Many may maruel to heare tell of the doctrine of Marcus Aurelius, saying it hath beene kept hidde and secret a great while, and that of mine owne head I haue inuented it. And that there neuer was any Marcus Aurelius in the world. I know not what to say now vnto them; for it is euident to all those which haue read any thing that Marcus Aurelius was husband to Faustine, father to Comodus, brother to Anntus Verus, and sonne in Law to Antoninus Pius, the seuenth (of Rome) Emperour
Those which say, I only haue made this doctrine, truly I thanke them for so saying, but not for their so meaning: For truly the Romanes would haue set my Image in Rome for perpetuall renowne, if so graue sentences should haue proceeded frō my head. Wee see that in our time which was neuer seene before, and heare that we neuer heard before. VVe practise not in a new world, and yet wee maruell that there is at this present a newe booke.
Not for that I was curious to discouer Marcus Aurelius, or studious to translate him. For, truely it is worthy he bee noted of wise persons, and not accused of enuious tongues. For, it chaunceth oftentimes in Hunting, that the most simplest man killeth the Deare.
The last thing which the Romaines conquered in Spayne, was Cantabria, which was a citie in Nauarre, ouer against La-grogne, and scituated in a high Countrey, where there is now a vaine of Vines. And the Emperour Augustus which destroyed it, made tenne bookes, De Bello Cantabrico: wherein are many thinges worthie of noting, and no lesse pleasaunt in reading, which happened vnto him, in the same conquest.
As Marcus Aurelius was brought mee from Florence, so was this other booke, Of the warres of Cantabria, brought mee from Colleyne. If perhaps I tooke paines to Translate this booke, as few haue done which haue seene it, they would speake the like of it, that they did of Marcus Aurclius. Because men are so long in speaking, and so briefe in studying, that without any let or shame, they will auowe no Booke to be in the world this day, but that they haue eyther reade, or seene it.
I haue as much profited in this writing, which is humane: as other Doctours haue done in matters, which are diuine. It is not translated word for word, but sentence for sentence. For wee other Enterpreters, are not bound to giue wordes by measure: but it sufficeth vs to giue Sentences by weight.
I beganne to studie this worke in the yeare, a thousand, fiue hundred, and eyghteene: and vntill the yeare The time when the Author began to translate the booke of Marcus Aurelius. a thousand fiue hundred, twentie and soure, I could neyther vnderstand, nor know wherein I was occupyed: and albeit I (kept it as secrete as I could) for the space of sixe yeares, yet it was knowne abroad: whervpon the Emperour his Majestie, being with the Feauer diseased, sent to mee for it, to passe the time away. And I (according to his commaundement) shewed him Marcus Aurelius that then was [Page] vncorrected, and humbly beseeching him sayde: That for recompence of all my trau [...]l [...], I desired no other rewarde, but that no man in his Chamber might copie the Booke.
And in the meane time proceeded to accomplish the worke, because I did not meane in such manner to publish it: for otherwise, I saide his Majestie should be euill serued, and I also of my purpose preuented: but my sinnes caused that the Booke was coppyed, The booke of Marcus Aurelius, at the first imprinted, without the knowledge of the Authour. and conueyed from one to another: and by the hands of Pages sunday times written, so that there increased daily in it errours, and faultes.
And since there was but one originall copie, they brought it vnto me to correct: which if it could haue spoken, would haue complained it selfe, more of them that did write it, then of those that did steale it.
And thus when I had finished the worke, & thought to haue published it: I perceyued that Marcus Aurelius was now imprinted at Seuill: And in this case, I take the Readers to be judges, between mee and the imprinters, because they may see, whether it may stand with Law, and justice, that a Booke which was to his Imperiall Maiestie dedicated: the author thereof being but an jnfant, and the booke so vnperfite and vncorrected, without my consent or knowledge should bee published.
Notwithstanding, they ceased not, but printed it againe in Portugall, and also in the Kingdome of Nauarre: And if the first impression was faulty, truely the second and the third were no lesse. So that which was written for the wealth and good of all men generally, each man did applye to the profite of himselfe particularly.
There chaunced another thing of this booke, called The golden booke of Marcus Aurelius, which I am ashamed to speake; but greater shame they should haue, that so dishonestly haue done. That is: some made themselus to be authors of the whole worke: Others say, that parte of it was made, and compyled of their owne heads: the which appeareth in a booke in priut, wherein the authour did like a man voyd of all honesty, & in another booke, one vsed likewise the wordes which Marcus Aurelius spake to Faustine, when shee asked him the key of his Studie.
After these Theeues came to my knowledge, iudge you whether it were ynough to prooue my patience? For, I had rather they had robbed me of my goods, then taken away my renowme.
By this all men may see, that Marcus Aurelius was not then corrected, nor in any place perfect, whereby they might perceyue, that it was not my minde to Translate Marcus Aurelius, but to make a Dyall for Princes: whereby all Christian people may be gouerned and ruled. And as the doctrine is shewed for the vse of manie: so I would profite my selfe, with that which the wise men had spoken and written. And in this sort proceedeth the worke, wherein I put one or two chapters of mine, and after I put some Epistles of Marcus Aurelius, and other doctrine of some Auncient men.
Let not the Reader bee deceyued, to thinke hat the one, and the other is of the Authour. For, although the phrase of the Language be mine, yet I confesse the greatest part that I knew, was of another mans, althogh the Historiographers and Doctours, (with whom I was holpen) were manie: yet the doctrine which I wrote, was but one.
I will not denye, but I haue left out some things which were superfluous: in whose steade I haue placed things more sweete and profitable. So that it needeth good wittes, to make [Page] which seemeth in one language to be grosse, in another to giue it the apparance of gold.
I haue deuided into three books this present Dyall of Princes. The first treateth, that the Prince ought to bee a good Christian.
The second, how hee ought for to gouerne his wife and children.
The third teacheth, how he should gouerne his person, and his Common wealth. I had begunne another booke, wherein was contained, how a Prince should behaue himselfe in his Court and Pallace, but the importunity of my friendes, caused me to withdraw my penne, to the end I might bring this worke to light.
A COMPENDIOVS TABLE OF ALL THE SEVERALL ARGVMENTS, contayned in these distinct Bookes of MARCVS AVRELIVS. *⁎*
- OF the Birth and Linage of the vise Philosopher and Emperor, Marcus Aurelius. Also of three seuerall Chapters in the beginning of this book, concerning a discourse of his life: for, by his Epistles and doctrine the whole course of the present worke is approued. Chap. 1. Fol. 1.
- Of a Letter sent by Marcus Aurelius to his friend Pulio, wherein hee declareth the order of his whole life. And (among other things) hee maketh mention of a thing which happened to a Romane Censor, with his Host of Compagnia. chap. 2. fol. 5.
- The Letter concluded by Marcus Aurelius, declaring at large what Science hee had learned, and all the Masters he had. Beside, he reciteth fiue notable things, in obseruance whereof, the Romanes were curious. chap. 3. fol. 8.
- Of the excellency of Christian Religion, which manyfesteth the true God and disproueth the vanitie of the Ancients, in hauing so many gods. And that in the old times, when enemies were reconciled in their houses, they caused also, that their gods should imbrace each other in their Temples. chap 4. fol. 13.
- How the Philosopher Bruxelius was greatly esteemed among the Ancients for his life. And of the words which hee spake to the Romanes at the houre of his death. chap. 5. fol. 15. chap. 6. fol. 16.
- How the Gentiles thought that one God could not defend them from their enemies. And how the Romanes sent throughout all the Empire to borrow [Page] gods, when they fought against the Gothes. chap. 7. fol. 17
- Of a Letter sent from the Senate of Rome to all the Subiects of the Empire. chap. 8. fol. 18.
- Of the true and liuing God. And of the maruailes wrought in the old Law, to manifest his diuine power. And of the superstition of the false and faigned goddes. chap 9. fol. 20.
- How there is but one true God: and how happy those Realmes are which haue a good Christian to be their King. How the Gentiles affirmed, that good Princes (after their death) were changed into gods, and the wicked into Deuils, which the Authour proueth by sundry examples. chap. 10. fol. 23.
- Of sundry gods which the Ancients worshipped. Of the offices of those gods: How they were reuenged of such as displeased them. And of the twentie elected gods. chap. 11. fol. 26.
- How Tiberius was chosen Gouernour of the Empire, and afterward created Emperour, onely for being a good Christian. And how God depriued Iustinian the younger, both of his Empire and senses, because he was a perfidious heretique. chap. 12. fol. 29
- Of other more naturall and peculier gods, which the ancient people had and adored. chap. 13. fol. 32
- What words the Empresse Sophia spake to Tiberius Constantinus, then being Gouernour of the Empire, reprouing him for lauishly consuming the Treasure of the Empire, gotten by her chap. 14. fol. 36
- The answere of Tiberius to the Empresse Sophia Augusta, declaring that Noble Princes neede not hoord vp treasures. And of the hidden treasure which this good Emperour foundeby reuelation, in the Palace where he remayned. chap. 15. fol. 38
- How the Captayne Narsetes ouercame many Battailes, onely by reposing his whole confidence in God. And what hapned to him by the Empresse Sophia Augusta; relating the vnthankfulnesse of Princes towards their seruants. chap. 16. fol 41
- Of a letter which the Emperour Marcus Aurelius sent to the King of Scicille, remembring the trauels they had endured together in their youth, and reprooning him for his small reuerence to the Temples ch, 17, fo. 46
- The Emperours prosecution in his Letter, admonishing Princes to bee fearefull of their Gods. And of the sentence which the Senate gaue vpon the King for pulling down the church. ch. 18 f. 49
- How the Gentiles honoured those that were deuout in the seruice of their gods, chap. 19 fol: 52
- Of fiue causes why Princes ought to be better christians then their subiects. ch. 20 fol. 55
- What the Philosopher Bias was: Of his constancy when hee had lost all his goods. And of the ten lawes he gaue, deseruing to be had in perpetuall memory, chap 21 59
- Questions demanded of the Philosopher Bias. fol. 61
- The lawes which Bias gaue to the Prienenses, 62
- How God from the beginning punished men by his iustice, and especially those Princes that despised his church: & how all wicked Christians are Parishioners of hel, ch. 22 63
- Of twelue examples why Princes are sharply punished, when they vsurpe boldly vpon churches, and violate their temples, ch. 23 65
- Why the children of Aaron were punished. eodem
- The cause why the Azotes were punished, eodem
- The cause why Prince Oza was punished, 66.
- Why King Balthazar was punished, 67
- Why King Ahab was punished, 69
- Why King Manasses was punished, cod.
- Why Iulius, Pompey, Xerxes, Cateline, Germanicus & Brennus were punished, 70
- How Valentine the Emp. because he was an euil Christian, in one day lost both the Empire and his life, ch. 24 72
- Of the Emp. Ʋalentinian & Gratian, his son, which raigned in the time of S. Ambrose, and because they were good Christians, were alwayes fortunate, and how God giueth victory to Princes, more by the teares of them that pray, then thorow the weapons of thē that fight, ch. 25 76
- Of the goodly Oration which the Em Gratian made to his Souldiers before hee gaue the battell, ch. 26 78
- Of the Captaine Theodosius who was father [Page] to the great Emp. Theodosius, died a good Christian. Of the K. Hismarus, and the Bishop Siluanus, and the lawes which they made and established, ch. 27 60
- What a happy thing it is to haue but one Prince to rule the publike weale: for there is no greater enemy to the Commonweale, then he which procureth many to commaund therein, ch. 28 84
- That in a publike weale, there is no greater destruction, then where Princes dayly consent to new orders, and make an alteration of ancient customs, ch. 29 f. 88
- When Tirants began to raigne, and vpon what occasion commaunding and obeying first began, and how the authority which a Prince hath, is by the ordināce of God, chap. 30 91
- Of the golden age in times past: and worldly misery at this present, ch. 31 94
- How K. Alexander the Great, after hee had ouercome K. Darius in Asia, went to conquer the great India, and of that which hapned to him with the Garamantes, and that purity of life hath more power then force of warre, ch. 32 96
- Of an Oration which one of the Sages of Garamantia made vnto K. Alexander, a good lesson for ambitious mē, ch. 33. 98
- A continuation of the sage Garamants Oration, and among other notable matters he maketh mention of seuen lawes which they obserued, chap. 34 101
- That Princes ought to consider for what cause they were made Princes: What Thales the Philosopher was, & of 12 questions demāded of him, & his answer. c. 35. 104
- What Plutarch the Philosopher was, Of the wise words he spake to the Emperour Traiane: & how a good Prince is the head of the publique-weale. chap. 36. fo: 108
- As there are two Sences in the Head, Smelling and Hearing: So likewise, a Prince, who is the head of the Commonweale, ought to heare the complaints of all his subiects, and should know them all, to recompence their seruices, ch: 37. fol. 111
- Of the great Feast which the Romaines celebrated to the God Ianus the first day of Ianuary. And of the bounty and liberality of the Emperour Marcus Aurelius the same day, chap. 38 114
- Of the answer which the Emperour Marcus Aurelius made to the Senatour Fuluius before all the Senate; beeing reproued by him, for the familiarity hee vsed to all men, contrary to the maiesty and authority of the Romane Emperour, wherein hee painteth enuious men, ch. 39 fol. 118
- Of a Letter which the Emperour Marcus Aurelius sent to his friend Pulio; declaring the opinion of certaine Philosophers concerning the felicity of man. chap. 40. 124
- Of the Philosopher Epicurus, fol. 129
- Of the Philosopher Eschilus. 131
- Of the Philosopher Pindarus, 132
- Of the Philosopher Zeno, 133
- Of the Philosopher Anacharsis, 134
- Of the Sarmates, 135
- Of the Philosopher Chilo, 137
- Of the Philosophers Crates, Stylphas, Simonides, Gorgias, Architas, Chrysippus, Antistenes, Sophocles, Euripides, Palemon, Themistocles, Aristides, and Heraclius. 138. 139
- That Princes and great Lords ought not to esteeme themselues for being fayre, and well proportioned, chap. 41 140
- Of a letter written by the Emperour Marcus Aurelius to his Nephew, worthy to be noted of all young Gentlemen, chap. 42 146
- How Princes and great Lords in olde time were louers of men that were wise and learned. chap. 43 153
- How the Emperor Theodosius prouided wise men at the houre of his death for the education of his two noble sonnes, Archadius and Honorius, chap. 44 158
- How Cresus King of Lidia was a great friend and louer of Wise men. Of a letter which the same Cresus wrote to the Philosopher Anacharsis, and an other letter of the Philosophers answer to him, chap. 45 162
- Of the wisdome and sentences of Phalaris the tyrant: And how hee put an artezan to death for deuising new torments chap. 46 166
- The letter of Phalaris the tirant, which was sent to Popharco the Philosopher. 169
- Of seuerall great and powerfull Kinges who were all of them true friends and louers of the Sages, chap. 47. 170
- The letter of King Philip to Aristotle the Philosopher: 172
- Of what excellency marriage is, and whereas common people marry of freewill, [Page] Princes and noble men ought to marry vpon necessity and vrgencie. chap. 1 177
- How the Author prosecuting his purpose of marriage, declareth that by means thereof many mortall enemies haue been made good and perfect friends. c. 2. f. 180
- Of diuers and sundry lawes which the Ancients had in contracting matrimony, not onely in the choyce of women, but also in the manner of celebrating marriage. chap. 3 183
- How princesses and great Ladies ought to loue their husbands: and that loue ought not to be procured by coniurations and enchantments, but by wisedom honesty, and vertue desired, ch. 4. 187
- Of the reuenge which a woman of Greece tooke on him that had killed her husband, as hoping to enioy her in marriage, chap. 5. 189
- That Princesses and great Ladies ought to be obedient to their husbands: and how great shame it is to the husband that his wife should command him. ch. 6. 194
- That women (especially princesses & great Ladies) should be very circumspect in going abroad out of their houses: and that they should not deserue to be ill spoken of by such as resort to their houses: chap. 4 198
- Of the commodities and discommodities which follow princes and great Ladies that go abroad to visite, or abide in their houses, chap. 8 200
- That women great with child (especially princesses and great Ladies ought to be circumspect for the danger of creatures, wherin is shown many misfortunes happening to women with child in olde time, chap. 9 202
- Of other inconueniences, and vnluckie mischances which haue happened to women with child, chap. 10 207
- That women great with child (especially princesses and great Ladies) ought to be gently vsed of their husbands c. 11. 209
- What the philosopher Pisto was: and of the rules hee gaue concerning women with child, chap. 12 212
- Of three counsels which Lucius Seneca gaue vnto a Secretary his friend who serued the Emperour Nero; And how the Emp. M. Aurelius spent the houres of the day. chap. 13 214
- The importunity of the Empresse Faustine to the Emperour, concerning the keye of his closet, chap. 14 219
- The answere of the Emperour to Faustine, concerning her demaund for the key of his study, chap. 15 223
- Of great dangers ensuing to men, by excessiue haunting the company of women And of certaine rules for married men, which if they obserue, may cause them to liue in peace with their wiues, chap. 16 228
- A more particular answer of the Emperour to Faustine, concerning the key of his study, chap. 17 235
- That Princesses and noble women ought not to be ashamed to giue their children sucke with their owne breasts, chap. 18 239
- A further continued perswasion of the Author, that women should giue their owne children sucke. chap. 19 242
- That Princesses and great Ladies ought to be very circumspect in choice of theyr Nurses: and of seuen especiall properties which a good Nurse should haue. cha. 20 249
- Of three other especiall conditions, which a good Nurse ought to haue, that giueth sucke. chap. 21 254
- Of the disputations before Alexander the Great, concerning the time of the sucking of babes, chap. 22 259
- Of sundry kinds of Sorceries, charmes, and witchcrafts which they (in old time) vsed, in giuing their children suck, which in Christians ought to be auoided. ch. 23. fol. 260
- Of a letter which Marcus Aurelius sent to his friend Dedalus, inueighing against such women, as vse to cure children by sorceries, charms, & enchantments, ch. 24 264
- How excellent a thing it is for gentlemē to haue an eloquent tong, ch. 25 270
- Of a letter which the Athenians sent to the Lacedemonians, chap. 26 273
- That Nurses which giue sucke to the childrē of Princes ought to bee discreete and sage women, chap. 27 275
- That women may be no lesse wise then men, & though they be not, it is not thorow the defect of nature, but rather for want of good bringing vp, chap. 28. 279
- Of a letter which Pythagoras sent to his sister Theoclea, he being in Rhodes, and she in Samcthrace, both studying Philosophy, [Page] chap. 29 281
- A further perswasion of the Authour, to Princesses and other great Ladies, to endeauour themselues to be wise, like as the women in elder times were, c. 30. 282
- Of the worthines of the Lady Cornelia, and of a notable Epistle which she wrote to her two sons, seruing in the warres, Tiberius and Caius, disswading them from the pleasurs of Rome, & exhorting them to endure the trauels of war. chap. 31. 288
- The Letter of Cornelia to her two sons, Tiberius and Caius 289
- Of the education and doctrine of children while they are young, with a declaratiō of many notable histories, c. 32. 294
- Princes ought to take heede that their children bee not brought vp in pleasures and vaine delights: because oftentimes they are so wicked, that the fathers would not onely haue them with sharpe discipline corrected, but also with bitter teares buried, chap. 33, 302
- How Princes and great Lords ought to be careful, in seeking wise men to bring vp their children: Of ten conditions which good Schoolmasters ought to haue, chap. 34. 309
- Of the two children of Marcus Aurelius the best wherof dyed, And of the masters he prouided for the other, chap. 35. 317
- Of the words which Marcus Aurelius spake to 5. of the 14. masters, which hee had chosen for the education of his son: And how he dismissed them from his pallace, because they behaued thēselus lightly at the feast of their god Genius, c. 36. 322
- That Princes and noble men ought to ouersee the tutors of their children, least they should conceale the secrete faultes of their scholler, chap. 37. 326
- Of the determination of the Emperour when he committed his childe to the tutors, chap. 38 331
- Tutors of Princes and noble mens children ought to bee very circumspect that their schollers do not accustom themselus in vices while they be yong, but especially to be kept frō 4. vices. chap. 39, 343
- Of two other vices, perillous in youth, which their masters ought to keepe them from, chap. 40 348
- How Princes and great Lords ought to trauell in administring iustice to all men equally, chap. 1 353
- The way that Princes ought to vse, for choyse of Iudges and Officers, in theyr Countreyes. chap. 2 fol: 357
- A villaine argueth (in an Oration) against the Romaines, who (without cause or reason) had conquered his Countrey: Approouing mainifestly, that through offending the Gods, they had thus preuayled. And the Oration is diuided into chapt: 3. fol. 362. ch: 4. fol: 366. And ch: 5. f: 366
- That Princes and Noble-men ought to be very circumspect, in choyce of their Iudges and Officers: because therein consisteth the benefite of the weale publique. chapt: 6. fol: 373
- Of a Letter which the Emperour Marcus Aurelius wrote to his friend Antigonus, answering an other, which hee sent him out of Scicile, concerning the crueltie, exercised by the Romaine Iudges. The letter is diuided in chap: 7. fol 379. cha: 8. fol. 381. chap: 9. fol. 385 chapt: 10. fo. 387 cha: 11. fol. 391
- An exhortation of the Authour, vnto great Princes and Noble-men to embrace peace, and to auoyde all occasions of warre. chap: 12 fol. 394
- Of the commodities which ensue by peace: declaring that diuers Princes (vppon light occasions) haue made cruell warres, chap: 13 fol. 397
- The Emperour Marcus Aurelius wryteth to his friende Cornelius; wherein hee describeth the discomodities which come by warres, and the vanitie of Triumphes, Chap: 14 fol. 406
- Marcus Aurelius proceedeth on further in his letter, declaring the order which the Romains vsed in setting forth their men of warre. And of the outragious villainyes which Captaines and Souldiours vse in warre. chap: 15 fo. 408
- The Emperours further pursuite in the same letter, shewing what great dammages haue ensued, by warre begun with strange and forraigne Realmes. ch: 16 fo. 409
- Ad admonition of the Author, to Princes and great Lordes, to the intent that the more they growe in yeares, the more they stād bound to refrain frō vices, ch: 17. 415
- That Princes whē they are aged, should be temperate in eating, sober in drinking, modest in apparel (& aboue al things else) true in their cōmunication: ch: 18. fo. 418
- Of a letter written by the Emperour M. Aurelius, to Claudius & Claudinus, reprouing them (being olde men) because they [Page] liued ouer youthfully, chap: 19, fo. 423
- A prosecution of the Emperours letter, perswading Claudius and Claudinus (beeing now aged) to giue no more credite to the world: nor to any of his deceiptfull flatteries. chap: 20. fol: 430
- A further continuation of the Emperour in the same Letter, approouing by good reasons, that in regard aged persons will bee serued and honoured of younger people: they ought therefore to be more vertuous and honest, then they of younger degree. chap: 21. fol: 433
- The Emperours conclusion of his Letter, shewing what perills those olde men liue in, that dissolutely (like young Children) spend their dayes: And he giueth wholesome councell vnto them, for better means and remedy therof: ch: 22. 438
- How Princes ought to take heede, that they bee not noted guiltie of Auarice, because the Couetous man is hated, both of God and man. ch: 24 441
- Great reasons to discommend the vices of couetous men. ch: 24 444
- Of a letter which the Emperour Marcus Aurelius wrote to his friend Cincinnatus, who being a Romaine Knight, became a Marchaunt of Capua, reproouing such Gentlemen, as take vppon them the trade of Marchaundise, contrarie to their owne vocation; declaring what vertuous men ought to vse, and the vices which they ought to shunne: instructing also, how to despise the vanities of the world; And although a man bee neuer so wise, yet hee shall haue neede of another mans councell. ch: 25. fol: 447. c. 26. fo. 449. c. 27. 451.
- A perswasion to Princes & great Lords to shunne couetousnes, and to become liberall & bountifull: which vertue should alwayes appertaine to a Royall personage. chap: 28 fol. 454
- A perswasion to Gentlemen, and such as follow Armes, not to abase themselues for gaynes-sake, in taking vpon them any vile office or function. ch. 29 458
- Of a Letter which the Emperour wrote to his Neighbour Mercurius, a Marchant of Samia: instructing men in those daungers, which ensue by traffique on the Seas, and the couetousnes of them that Trauell by Land. chap: 30 461
- The conclusion of the Emperours Letter, reprouing Mercurius, because he tooke thought for the losse of his goods: Shewing him the nature of Fortune, and conditions of couetous men. ch: 31 fol: 464
- That Princes and Noble-men ought to consider the miserie of mans nature: And that brute Beasts are in some pointes (reason excepted) to bee preferred with men: chapt. 32. fol. 466
- A further comparison of the miseryes of men, with the liberty of beasts, ch: 33. 469
- A letter of the Emperour M. Aurelius, to Domitius, a cittizen of Capua, comforting him in his Exile: being banished for a quarrell betweene him and an other, about the running of a Horse. Comfortable for such as haue bin in great fauour, & afterward falne into disgrace. ch. 34 fo. 474
- That princes and Noble men ought to be aduocates for widdowes, fathers of Orphans, and helpes to the comfortlesse, chap. 35 479
- That the troubles, sorrowes and griefes of widdows are much greater then those of Widdowers: wherefore Princes and Noble men ought to haue more compassion vpon such women then men, ch. 36 fol. 462
- Of a letter which the Emperour Marcus Aurelius wrote to a Romane Lady, named Lauinia, comforting her in her husbands death, ch. 37 486
- A perswasion to widdowes to depend onely vpon Gods will, and exhorting them to liue honestly. chap. 38 489
- That Princes and Noble men ought to despise the world, because there is nothing in it but plaine deceit. ch. 39: 493
- A vehement inuectiue against the deceites of the world, with a further proofe by strong and weightie reasons, perswading all men that liue in the world not to trust it, or any thing therein, verefied by a letter of the Emperour to his friend Torquatus, chap. 40. 41. 42. fol. 498. 501. 504
- Princes and Nobles ought not to beare with Iuglers, Iesters, parasites and cōmon players, nor with any such kind of rascals, and loyterers: And of the Lawes which the Romanes made especially on that behalfe, chap. 43 507
- How some Iesters were punished by our graue Ancients: and of the Iesters & loyterers in our time, chap 44. 510
- Of a letter which the Emperour wrote to Lambartus his friend then Gouernour of Hellespont, certifying him that hee had banished from Rome all fooles and loy terieg [Page] players: a notable lesson for them that keepe counterfeit fooles in their houses, chap. 45 514
- Marcus Aurelius proceedeth on in his letter, declaring how he found the Sepulchres in Hellespont of many learned philosophers whereunto he sent all those loiterers, chap. 46 517
- The Letters conclusion, relating the cause and time, why and when Iuglers & Iesters were admitted into Rome. ch. 47. 520
- How Princes and Noble men ought to remember that they are mortall, and must die, with notable consolations against the feare of death, chap. 48. 522
- Of the death of the Emperour Marcus Aurelius and how there are few friendes that dare speake the truth to sicke men, chap. 40 527
- Of the comfortable wordes which the Secretarie Panutius spake to the Emperour at the houre of his death, ch. 50 531
- A continuation of the Secretaries speeches; admonishing all men to embrace death willingly, & vtterly to forsake the world, and his alluring vanities c. 51. 534
- The answer of the Emperour Marcus to his Secretary Panutiu, declaring that he tooke no thought to forsake the world: But all his sorrow was, to leaue behinde him an vnhappy sonne to enherite the Empire, chap. 52 588
- The Emperours conclusion of the matter in question, shewing that sundry yong Princes, by being vicious, haue vndone themselues, and impouerished their Realmes, chap. 53 541
- Of the wordes which the Emperour Marcus Aurelius spake to his sonne Commodus at the houre of his death, very necessary for all young Gentlemen to vnderstand, chap. 54 545
- Other wholesome counsels giuen by the Emperour to his sonne, and (aboue all) to keepe wise and learned men about him to assist him with aduise in all his affaires, chap. 55 550
- The Emperours prosecution still in the same Argument, with particular exhortations to his sonne; well deseruing to bee engrauen in the hart of men; ch. 56 554
- The good Emperour Marcus Aurelius, concludeth both his purpose & life. And of the last words he spake to his son Commodus, and the Table of Counsell he gaue him. chap. 57 557
- The Prologue of the worke, declaring what one true friend ought to do for another, 563
- A few precepts and counsels meet to be remembred by all such as are Princes familiars, and affected Courtiers. 572
- The Argument of the Booke entituled, The Fauoured Courtier, declaring the entent of the whole worke, 575
- How it is more necessary for the Courtier (abiding in Court) to be of liuely spirit and audacitie; then it is for the Souldier that goeth to serue in the warres, c. 1. 592
- Of Courtiers brawles & quarrels with Harbingers for their ill lodgings, c. 2. 592
- How the Courtier should entreat his Host, or master of the house where hee lodgeth, chap. 3 589
- What Courtier [...] must do to win their Princes fauour, chap. 4. 601
- What manners and gestures do best become a Courtier when hee speaketh to his Prince, ch. 5. 607
- How a Courtier should behaue himselfe, both to know, and to visite Noblemen and Gentlemen that are great with the Prince, and continuing still in Court, Chap. 6 612
- What countenance and modesty becommeth a Courtier for his behauiour at the Princes or Noble mans table, during the time of his meale, ch. 7 617
- What company the Courtier should keepe, and how he ought to apparrel him selfe, chap. 8: 624
- In what manner the Courtier should serue and honour Ladies and Gentlewomen: also how to satisfie and please the Vshers and Porters of the Kings house, chap. 9, 631
- Of the great paines and trauels which the Courtier hath, being toiled in suites of law, And how he is to suffer, and carrie himselfe with Iudges, chap. 10 637
- Of them that are affected in Court, admonishing them to bee pacient in their troubles, and that they bee not partiall in the affayres of the common wealth, chap. 11 644
- That Officers, and such as are affected in Court, should be very diligent & carefull in dispatching the Princes affayres, & [Page] Common-wealth: Also, that in correcting, and reforming of Seruants, they ought to bee as circumspect and aduised, Chap. 12 fol: 649
- That affected and esteemed Courtyers ought to be warie, of beeing prowde, and high-minded: for lightly they neuer fall, but onely by meanes of that detestable vice. Chap: 13 fol. 659
- That it is not fit for Courtyers to be ouer-couetous, if they mean to keepe themselues out of many troubles and dangers: chap: 14 fol. 670
- That fauoured Courtyers should not trust ouer-much to their fauour and credit in Court, nor to the prosperitie of their liues. chap: 15 fo. 677
- An admonition to such as are highly in fauour with Princes, to take heede of the worlds deceyts: learning both to liue and dye honourably; and to leaue the Court, before Age ouer take them, chapter 16. fol. 684
- What continencie ought to be in fauoured courtyers, alwayes shunning the company of vnhonest women: also to be carefull in the speedie dispatch of suters suing vnto them. chap: 17 fol. 691
- That Nobles, and affected of Princes, should not exceede in superfluous fare, nor bee ouer-sumptuous in their Dyet. chapt. 18. fol. 698
- That courtiers fauored of Princes, ought not to be dishonest of their Tongues, nor enuious in their wordes. chap. 19 fo. 709
- A comendation of Truth, which professed courtyers ought to embrace: And (in no respect) to be found defectiue, in the contrarie, reporting one thing for an other. chap. 20. fo. 718
- Of the huge Monster, seene in Scicile, in the time of M. Aurelius; & of the letters he wrote with bloud vpō a gate. ch: 1. 727
- Of that which chaunced vnto Antigonus a cittizen of Rome, in the time of Marcus Aurelius: chap: 2 fol: 729
- How M. Aurelius sought the wealth of his people, & how they loued him. c. 3. 730
- How at the intercession of manie, sent by the Empresse, the Emperour graunted his daughter Lucilla licence, to sport herselfe at the Feasts. chap: 4 fo. 732
- Of the sharpe words which M. Aurelius spake to his wife, & his daughter. c 5. 734
- A letter sent by the Emperor M. Aurelius, to Catullus Censorius, concerning the newes then in Rome. cha: 6 740
- M. Aurelius his letter, written to the amourous Ladyes of Rome, ch. 7 747
- A letter sent by M. Aurelius, to his loue Boemia, because shee desired to goe with him to the warres, chap. 8 752
- The answer of Boemia, to the Emperor M. Aurelius, expressing the great malice, & little patience in an euil womā. c. 9 755
- A letter of M. Aurelius, to the Romaine Lady Macrine, of whom (beholding her at a window) he became enamoured: declaring what force the beautie of a faire Woman hath in a weake man, ch. 10 760
- An other letter, sent by him, to the same Macrina, expressing the firie flames, which soonest consume gentle harts. ch: 11. 761
- A letter sent by him to the lady Lauinia; reprouing Loue to be naturall: And affirming that the most part of Philosophers and wise-men, haue beene ouercome by Loue, chap: 12 fol: 763.
THE FIRST BOOKE OF THE DIALL OF PRINCES, WITH the famous Booke of Marcus Aurelius, wherein hee entreateth what excellency is in a Prince that is a good Christian: and contrariwise, what euils doe follow him that is a cruell Tyrant.
CHAP. I. Here the Author speaketh of the birth and lynage of the wise Philosopher and Emperour Marcus Aurelius. And he putteth also at the beginning of this Booke three Chapterss, wherein hee entreateth of the discourse of his life: for by his Epistles and Doctrine, the whole course of this present worke is approued.
AFter the death of the Emperour Antoninus Pius, in the 695. years frō the foundatiō of Rome, and in the 173. Olimpiade: Fuluius Cato, and Cneus Patroclus, then being Consuls: the fourth day of October, in the high Capitoll of Rome, at the sute of the whole Romane people, & with the assent of the sacred Senate, Marcus Aurelius Antonius was proclaimed Emperour vniuersall of the whole Romane Monarchie.
This noble Prince was naturally Marcus Aurelius a Romane born. of Rome borne, in the mount Celio, on the sixt day before the Calends of May, which (after the Latines account) is the 26. day of Aprill. His Grandfather was called Annius Verus, and was chosen Senatour in the time of the Emperours Titos and Vespasian. His great Grandfather was named Annius Verus, which was borne in Spaine, in the free town of Gububa, when the wars were most cruell betweene Caesar and Pompeius: at what time many Spaniards fledde to Rome, and many Romaines ranne into Spaine. By this meanes this Emperour had a great Grandfather, a Romane, and a great Grandmother, a Spaniard. His Father was named Annius Verus after his Grandfather, and Great Grandfather, by reason whereof the ancient Historiographers call him Marcus Antonius Verus.
[Page 2] And true it is, that the Emperour Adrian called him Marcus Verissimus, for that hee neuer forged lye, nor swarued at any time from the truth. These Annti Veri were a kindred in Rome (as Iulius Capitolinus reporteth) which vaunted themselues to come of Numa Pompelius, and Quintus Curtius the famous Romane: which (to worke the Romane people safety and his owne person euerlasting memory) willingly threw himselfe into the Gulfe, A [...] to [...]l Rome. which afterwards was called Curtius, which as then was seene in Rome. This Emperours mother was called Domitta Camilla, as recounteth Cinna in the bookes that hee wrote of the Romaine pedigrees. That stocke of Camilli, was in those daies highly honoured in Rome: for that they conuayed their discent from that Camillus, which was the renowmed and valiant Romane Captaine, who deliuered Rome when the Gaules had taken it, and besieged the Capitoll. The men that sprang of this linage, bare the name of Camilli, for remembrance of this Camillus. And the woman that came of the same stocke kept the name of Camilla, in memory of a daughter of the said Camillus. This Camilla refused mariage, and chose to liue among the vastall virgins: and there long space remained, enduring a sharpe and hard life. And shee was so vertuous a Romane, and precise in her life, that in the time of Seuerus Emperour of Rome, her Tombe was honoured as a Relique, whereon was engraued this Epitaph.
And this was written in Heroycall verse in the Greeke tongue, with a maruellous haughty stile. But to our matter, yee shall vnderstand, that the Romanes kept a certaine Law in the 12. Tables, the words whereof were these:
Wee ordaine and commaund, that all the Romanes shall for euer haue speciall A worthy law among the Romās. priuiledge in euery such place, where their ancestors haue done to the Romane people any notable seruice. For it is reason that where the Citizen aduentureth his life, there the City should doe him some honour after his death. By vertue of this law all the family of Camilli euer enioyed the keeping of the high Capitoll, for that (by his force and policie) he chased the French men from the siege. Truly, it is not vnknowne, that this noble Knight and valiant Captaine Camillus did other things as great, and greater then this; but because it was done within the circuit of Rome, it was esteemed aboue all his other acts and prowesse. And herein the Romanes swarued not far from reason, for that, amongst all princely vertues, is esteemed to bee the chiefest and worthiest, which is employed to the profit of the common-wealth. The Romane Chronaclers with tears cease not to lament the ruine of their Country, seing that variety of time, the multitude of Tyrants, the cruelty of ciuill wars, were occasion that the ancient state of the Romane gouernement, came to vtter destruction, and in steade thereof a new and euill trade of life to bee placed. And hereof no man ought to Chaunges of rulers breed flor [...] of vices. maruell, for it chanceth throughout all Realmes and Nations, by oft changing gouernours, that among the people dayly springeth new vices.
[Page 3] Pulto sayth, That for no alteration which befell to the common weale, for no calamity that euer Rome suffered, that priuiledge was taken away from the linage of Camilli, (I meane the gouernment of the high Capitoll) except it were in the time of Silla the Consull, when this family was sore persecuted, for none other cause but for that they fauored the Consull Marius. This cruell Silla being dead, and the pittifull Iulius Caesar preuayling, all the banished men from Rome returned home againe to the common-wealth.
As touching the Auncestors of the Emperour Marcus Aurelius, what hath beene their trade of life, estate, pouerty, or riches, standing in fauor or displeasure, what prosperity or aduersity they haue had or suffered, wee finde not in writings, though with great diligence they haue beene searched for. And the cause hereof was, for that the ancient writers of the Romane Histories, touched the liues of Concerning the Father of Marcus Aurelius. the Emperors fathers (specially when they were made Princes) more for the good merites that were in the children, then for the great estimation that came from the Fathers; Iulius Capitolinus sayth, That Annius Verus (father of Marcus Aurelius) was pretor of the Rhodian Armies, and also warden in other Frontiers in the time of Trayan the good, Adrian the wise, and Anthony the mercifull. Which Emperours trusted none with their Armies, but discreet & valiant men. For good Princes chose alwayes such Captaines, as can with wisdom guide the Armie, and with valiantnes giue the battell. Though the Romanes had sundry wars in diuers places, yet chiefly they kept great Garrisons alwayes in foure parts of the world. That is to say, in Bizantium (which now is Constantinople) to resist the Parthiens: in Gades, (which now is called Galizia) to withstand the Portugales: in the riuer of Rein to defend The Romanes foure Garrisons. themselues from the Germaines: and at Colossus (which now is called the Ile of Rhodes) for to subdue the Barbarians.
In the moneth of Ianuarie, when the Senate distributed their offices, Distribution of offices. the Dictator being appointed for sixe monethes, and the two Consuls chosen for one yeare: incontinently in the third place, they chose foure of the most renowmed persons to desend the said foure daungerous Frontiers. For the Romanes neyther feared the paines of hell nor trusted for reward in heauen: but sought by all occasions possible in their life time to leaue some notable memory of them after their death. And the Romaine was counted most valiant, and of the Senate best fauoured, to whom they committed the charge of the most cruell and dangerous warres. For their strife was not to beare rule, and to be in office, or to get money: but to be in the Frontiers, to ouercome their enemies.
In what estimation these foure Frontiers were, wee may easily perceyue, Honourable Armies of the Romans by that wee see the most noble Romanes haue passed some part of their youth in those places as Captaines, vntill such time that (for more weighty affaires) they were appointed from thence to som other places. For at that time there was no word so grieuous and iniurious to a Citizen, as to say, Goe thou hast neuer beene brought vp in the wars: and to proue the same by examples. The great Pompey passed the Winter season in Constantinople: The aduenturous Scipio in Colonges, the couragious Caesar in Gades, and the renowmed Marius in Rhodes. And these foure were not only in the Frontiers aforesaid in their youth, but there they did such valiant acts, that the memory of them remaineth euermore after [Page 4] their death. These thinges I haue spoken to proue, sith wee finde that Marcus Aurelius father was Captain of one of these 4. Frontiers: it followeth, that he was a man of singular wisdome and prowesse. For as Scipio sayd to his friend Masinissa in Affrike, It is not possible for a Romane Captaine to want eyther wisdome or courage, for thereunto they were predestined at their birth. Wee haue no authenticke authorities, that sheweth vs frō whence, when, or how, in what countries, Gb [...]uation among the Roman Antiquaries and with what persons this captaine passed his youth. And the cause is, for that the Romane Chroniclers were not accustomed to write the things done by their Princes, before they were created, but onely the acts of yong men, which from their youth had their hearts stoutly bent to great aduentures: and in my opinion it was well done. For it is greater honour to obtaine an Empire by policy and wisdome, then to haue it by discent, so that there be no tyranny. Suetonius Tranquillus in his first booke of Emperours, counteth at large the aduenturous enterprises taken in hand by Iulius Caesar in his yong age, and how far vnlikely they were from thought, that he should euer obtaine the Romane Empire; writing this to shew vnto Princes, how earnestly Iulius Caesars heart was bent to win the Romane Monarchy, and likewise how wisdom fayled him in behauing himselfe therin.
A Philosopher of Rome, wrote to Phalaris the Tirant, which was in Cicilia, The answere of Phalaris to a Romane Philosopher asking him, Why hee possessed the realme so long by tyranny? Phalaris answered him againe in another Epistle in these few wordes. Thou callest mee tyrant, because I haue taken this realme, and kept it 32. yeares. I graunt then, (quoth hee) that I was a tyrant in vsurping it: For no man occupyeth another mans right, but by reason he is a tyrant: But yet I will not agree to be called a Tyrant, sith it is now xxxii. yeares since I haue possessed it. And though I haue atchieued it by tyranny, yet I haue gouerned it by wisdome. And I let thee to vnderstand, that to take another mans goods, it is an easie thing to conquere, but a hard thing to keepe an easie thing: for to keepe them, I ensure thee it is very hard. The Emperour Marcus Aurelius married the daughter of Antoninus Pius, the 16. Emperour of Rome, and she was named Faustina, who as sole Heyre had the Empire, and so through marriage Marcus Aurelius came to be Emperour. This Faustine was not so honest and chast, as shee was faire and beautifull. Shee had by him two sonnes, Commodus and Verissimus.
Marcus Aurelius triumphed twice, The triumphes of Marcus Aurelius. once when he ouercame the Parthians, and another time when hee conquered the Argonants. He was a man very well learned, and of a deepe vnderstanding. Hee was as excellent both in the Greeke and Latine, as hee was in his mothers tongue. Hee was very temperate in eating and drinking, hee wrote many things full of good learning and sweete sentences. He dyed in conquering the realme of Pannonia, which is now called Hungarie. His death was as much bewayled, as his life was desired. And hee was loued so deare and entirely in the City of Rome, that euery Romane had a statue of him in his house, to the end the memory of him (among them) should neuer decay. The which was neuer read that they euer did for any other King or Emperour of Rome, no not for Augustus Caesar, who was best beloued of all other Emperours of Rome.
Hee gouerned the Empire for the space of eighteene yeere with vpright iustice, and died at the age of 63 yeeres with much honor, in the yeere [Page 5] Climatericke, which is in the 63. years wherein the life of man runneth in great perill. For then are accomplished the nine seuens, or the seuen nines. Aulus Gelius writeth a Chapter The Climateriall yeares of mans life. of this matter, in the booke De noctibus Atticis. Marcus Aurelius was a Prince, of life most pure, of doctrine most profound, and of fortune most happy of all other Princes in the world, saue only for Faustine his wife, and Commodus his sonne. And to the end we may see what Marcus Aurelius was from his infancy, I haue put here an Epistle of his, which is this.
CHAP. II. Of a letter which Marcus Aurelius sent to his friend Pulio, wherein he declareth the order of his whole life: and amongst other things, he maketh mention of a thing that happened to a Romane Censor, with his Host of Campagnia.
MAreus Aurelius, only Emperour of Rome, greeteth thee his old friend Pulio, wisheth health to thy person, & peace to the commonwealth. As I was in the Temple of the Vestall Virgins, a letter of thine was presented vnto me, which was written long before, and greatly desired of me: but the best therof is, that thou writing vnto me briefly, desirest that I should write vnto thee at large: which is vndecent for the authority of him that is chiefe of the Empire, in especiall, if such one be couetous: for to a Prince there is no greater infamy then to be lauish of words, and scant of rewards. Thou writest to me of the griefe in thy leg, and that thy wound is great: and truly the paine thereof troubleth me at my heart, and I am right sorry that thou wantest that which is necessary for thy health, and that good that I do wish thee. For in the end, all the trauels of this life may be endured, so that the body with diseases be not troubled.
Thou lettest me vnderstand by thy letters, that thou art arriued at Rhodes and requirest me to write vnto thee, how I liued in that place when I was yong, what time I gaue my minde to study, and likewise what the discourse of my life was, vntill the time of my being Emperor of Rome. In this case truly I maruell at thee not a little, that thou shouldest aske me such a question, and so much the more, that thou didst not consider, that I cannot with out great trouble and paine answere thy demand. For the doings of youth in a yong man were neuer so vpright & honest, but it were more honest to The imperfections of young men deserue no publication amend them, then to declare them. Annius Verus my father, shewing vnto me his fatherly loue (not accomplishing yet fully 13. years) drew me frō the vices of Rome, and sent mee to Rhodes to learn science, howbeit better accompanied with books, then loden with money, where I vsed such diligence, and fortune so fauored me that at the age of 26. years, I read openly natural and moral Philosophy, and also Rhetoricke: and there was nothing gaue mee such occasion to study, and reade books, as the want of money; For pouerty causeth good mens children to be vertuous, so that they attaine to that by vertue, which others com vnto by riches. Truely friend Pulio, I found great want of the pleasures of Rome, especially at my first comming into the Isle; but after I had read Philosophy x. yeares at Rhodes, I tooke my selfe as one born in the countrey. And I think my conuersation among them caused it seeme no lesse. For it is a rule that neuer faileth, That vertue maketh a stranger grow naturall in a strange country, and vice maketh the naturall a stranger in his owne countrey, [Page 6] Thou knowest well, how my Father A most wise and worthy obseruation. Annius Verus was 15. years a Captain in the Frontiers against the barbarous by the commandement of Adrian my Lord and Master, and Antoninus Pius my Father in Law, both of them Princes of famous memory: which recommended mee there to their olde friends, who with fatherly counsell exhorted me, to forgette the vices of Rome, and to accustome my selfe to the vertues of Rhodes. And truely, it was but needfull for mee: For the naturall loue of the country oft times, bringeth damage to him that is borne therein, leading his desire still to returne home.
Thou shalt vnderstand, that the Rhodians are men of much courtesie, and requiting benenolences, which chanceth in few Isles: because that naturally they are persons deceitfull, subtill, vnthankefull, and full of suspition. I speake this, because my Fathers friends alwaies succored me with counsel & mony: which 2 things were so necessary, that I could not tell which of them I had most need of. For the stranger maketh his profite with money, to withstand disdainefull pouerty, & profiteth himself with counsel to forget the sweet loue of his country. I desired then to reade Philosophie in Rhodes, so long as my Father continued there Captaine. But that could not bee, for Adrian my Lord, sent for me to return to Rome, which pleased me not a litle, albeit (as I haue said) they vsed me as if I had beene borne in that Iland, for in the end, Although the eyes bee fedde with delight to The heart of a man is seldome satisfied. see strange things, yet therefore the heart is not satisfied. And this is all that touched the Rhodians. I will now tell thee also, how before my going thither, I was borne and brought vp in mount Celio (in Rome) with my father from mine infancie.
In the common wealth of Rome, there was a law vsed, and by custome well obserued, that no Citizen which enioyed any liberty of Rome (after their sonnes had accomplished tenne yeares) should bee so bold or hardy, to suffer them to walke the streetes A notable custome in Rome. like vacabonds. For it was a custome in Rome, that the children of the Senators should sucke till two yeares of age, till foure they should liue at their own willes, till sixe they should reade, till eight they should write, til ten they should study Grammer, and ten years accomplished they should then take some craft or occupation, or giue themselues to study, or goe to the warres: so that throughout Rome, no man was idle.
In one of the lawes of the twelue Tables were written these words. Wee ordaine and commaund, that euery Citizen that dwelleth within the circuite of Rome, or Liberties of the same, from ten yeares vpwards, to keepe his son well ordered.
And if perchance the child being idle, or that no man teaching him any craft or science, should thereby peraduenture fall to vice, or commit some wicked offence, that then the Father (no lesse then the Sonne) should bee punished. For there is nothing so much breedeth vice amongst the people, as when the Fathers are too negligent, and the children bee too bold.
And furthermore, another Law sayde. Wee ordaine and commaund, that after tenne yeares bee past, for the first offence that the child shall commit in Rome, that the Father shall bee bound to send him forth some where else, or to bee bound surety for the good demeanour of his Sonne. For it is not reason, that the fond loue of the Father to the Sonne, should bee an occasion why the multitude should bee slaunred: Because all the wealth of the Empire The happines of any Kingdome. consisteth, in keeping and maintaining [Page 7] quiet men, and in banishing, and expelling seditious persons.
I will tell thee one thing (my Pulio) and I am sure thou wilt maruell at it, and it is this. When Rome triumphed, and by good wisdome gouerned all the world, the inhabitants in the same surmounted the number of two hundred thousand persons, which was a maruellous matter. Amongst whom (as a man may iudge) there was a hundred thousand children, But they which had the charge of them kept them in such awe and doctrine, that they banished from Rome one of the sonnes of Cato Vticensis, for breaking an earthen pot in a Maydens hands which went to fetch water. In like manner they banished the sonne of good Cinna, only for entring into a garden to gather fruit. And none of these two were as yet fifteene yeeres old. For at that time they chastised them more for the offences done in iest, then they do now for those which are don in good earnest.
Our Cicero sayth in his booke De Cicero in lib de Legibus. Legibus, That the Romanes neuer tooke in any thing more pains, then to restrain the children (as well olde as the young) from idlenes. And so long endured the feare of their Law, and honour of their common wealth, as they suffered not their children like vagabonds idlely to wander the streetes, For that Idlenes is the badge of all lewdnes. country may aboue all other bee counted happy, where each one enioyeth his owne labour, and no man liueth by the sweate of another.
I let thee know, my Pulio, that when I was a child (although I am not yet very old) none durst bee so hardy to goe commonly through Rome without a token about him of the craft and occupation hee exercised, and wherby hee liued. And if any man had beene taken contrary, the children did not onely crie out of him in the streets as of a foole; but also the Censour afterwards condemned him, to trauell with the captiues in common workes.
For in Rome they esteemed it not lesse shame to the child which was idle, then they did in Greece to the Philosopher which was ignorant. And to the end thou mayest see this, I write vnto thee to be no new thing, thou oughtest to know, that the Emperour caused to bee borne afore him a burning brand, and the Councel an Axe of Armes, the Priests a Hatte, in manner of a Coyse: The Senatours a Crusible on their Armes: the Iudges a little Balance, the Tribunes Maces, the Gouernours a Scepter, the Bishoppes Hattes of flowers: the Oratours a Booke, the Cutlers a Sword, the Goldsmith a pot to melt gold: and so forth of all other offices, strangers excepted, which went al marked after one sort in Rome: For they would not agree, that a stranger should be apparrelled and marked according to the children of Rome.
O my friend Pulio, it was such a ioy then to behold the Discipline and prosperity of Rome, as it is now at this present such a griefe to see the calamitie thereof, that by the immortall Gods I sweare to thee, and so the God Mars guide my hand in Wars, that the man which now is best ordered, is not worth so much as the most dissolute person was then. For then (amongst a thousand) they could not find one man vicious in Rome, and now amongst twenty thousand they cannot find one vertuous in all Italy.
I know not why the Gods are so The golden and copper dayes of Rome. cruell against me, and fortune so contrary, that this forty yeares I haue done nothing but weepe and lament, to see the good men dye, and immediately to be forgotten: and on [Page 8] the other side, to see wicked men liue, and to be alwayes in prosperity. Vniuersally, the noble heart may endure all the troubles of mans life, vnlesse it bee to see a good man decay, and the wicked to prosper; which my heart cannot abide, nor yet my tongue dissemble. And touching this matter, my friend Pulio, I will write vnto thee one thing which I found in the booke of the high Capitoll, where hee treateth of the time of Marius and Silla, which truely is worthy of memory, and that is this.
There was at Rome a custome, and a law inuiolable, sith the time of Cinna, A famous Visitation vsed by the ancient Romanes. that a Censour (expresly commā ded by the Senate) should goe, and visite the Prouinces which were subiect vnto it throughout all Italy, and the cause of those visitations was for three things. The first, to see if any complained of Iustice. The second, to see in what case the Commonweale stood. The third, to the end, that yearely they should render obedience to Rome. O my friend, Pulio, how thinkest thou? If they visited Italie at this present, as at that time they suruaied Rome, how ful of errours should they finde it? And what decay should they see therin, thinkest thou? Truely, as thou knowest, they should see the common wealth destroyed, Iustice not ministred, and moreouer Rome not obeyed, and not without iust cause. For, of right ought that common-wealth to be destroyed, which once of all other hath beene the flower, and most beautified with vertues, and after becommeth most abhominable, and defiled with vices.
The case was such that two years after the wars of Silla and Marius, the Censour went yeerly to Nola (which is a place in the Prouince of Campania) A towne in the middest of Campania. to visite the same Country as the custome was. And in those dayes, the time and season being very hote, and the Prouince quiet, not disturbed with warres, and perceyuing that none of the people came to him. The Censour said to the Host which lodged him: Friend, I am a Iudge sent from the Senatours of Rome to visite this land. Therefore goe thy wayes quickly, and call the good men hither which be among the people: for I haue to say vnto them from the sacred Senate. This Host, (who peraduenture was wiser then the Romane Iudge, although not so rich) goeth to the graues of the dead, which in that place were buried, and The folly of a Romane Censour. spake vnto them with a loude voyce saying, O yee good men, come away with mee quickly, for the Romane Censour calleth you.
The Iudge perceyuing they came not, sent him againe to call them: and the Host as he did at the first time, so did he now at the second. For when he was at the graues, with a loud voice he sayd, O yee good men, come hither, for the censour of Rome would talke with you. And likewise they were called the third time with the selfe same words. And the Censour seeing no body come, was maruellous angry, and sayde to the Host: Sith these good men disdain to come at my commandement, and shew their allegiance to the sacred Senate of Rome [Page 9] that were aliue, and not those that are dead: the Host made answere, O thou Romane Iudge, if thou wert wise, thou wouldest not maruell at that that I haue done. For I let thee vnderstand, The wisedome of a poore Host of Nolo. in this our City of Nola, all the good men, (all I say) are now dead, and lye here buried in these graues. Therefore thou hast no cause to maruell) nor yet to bee displeased with my aunswere: but I rather ought to bee offended with thy demaund, willing me to enquire for good men, and thou thy selfe dost offend with the euill dayly, Wherefore I let thee know (if thou bee ignorant thereof) if thou wilt speake with any good man, thou shalt not finde him in all the whole world, vnlesse the dead bee reuiued, or except the Goas will make a new creation. The Consull Silla was fiue moneths our Captaine in this our City of Nola in Campania, sowing the fruit which ye other Romaines gathered, that is to say, he left children without Fathers, Fathers without children, daughters without Mothers, and Husbands without Wiues, Wiues without Husbands, Vncles without Nephewes, Subiects without Lords, Lords without Tenants, Gods without Temples, Temples without Priestes, Mountaines without Heards, and fieldes without fruites. And the worst of all is, that this wicked and cursed Silla dispeopled this our City of good and vertuous men, and replenished it with wicked and vitious persons. Ruine and decay neuer destroyed the Walles so much, neyther the Mothes euer so many garments, nor the Worme rotted so much fruit, nor yet the Hayle beate downe so much corne; as the disorder and vices of Sylla the Romane Consull did harme, which hee brought vnto this land of Campania. And although the mischiefe and euils that hee did heere to the men were manifold great, yet much greater herein was that which he did to their Customes and Manners.
For in the end the good men which hee beheaded, are now at rest with the dead: but the vices which hee left vs in this Land, there are none but proude and arrogant men that delight to commaund.
In this land there are none other but enuious men, that know nought else but malice. In this land there are idle men, which doe nothing but loose their time. In this land there are none but gluttons, which doe nothing but eate. In this land there are none but theeues, which entend nought else but robberies. In this land there are none but rebels, that do nothing but stirre sedition. And if thou and all the Romanes esteeme these men for good, tarry a while, I will goe to call them all to thee. For if wee should kill and put into the shambles all the euill men, and weigh them as wee doe the flesh of sheepe, or other like be asts: all the neighbours and Inhabitants of Italy should haue meate sufficient for to eate.
Behold Censour, in this land of Campania, they call none good but those which are quiet, sober, wise, and discreet men. They call none good but the patient, honest, and vertuous men. Finally I say, that wee call none good, but these men which will doe no harme, and will occupie themselues in good workes. Without teares I speake not that which I will say, that is, if wee seeke for any of them, wee shall find none but in their graues. For the iust iudgement of God it was, they should repose themselues in the entrailes of the earth, whom the publike weale deserued not to haue aliue.
Thou commest to visite this land, where thou shalt immediately be serued with the wicked, and to hide their faults, their desolute life, and their vices, thou shalt not be a little solicited. Beleeue mee, if thou wilt not vndoe thy selfe, and be deceyued. Trust thou rather these rotten bones, then their deceitfull hearts. [Page 10] For in the end, the examples of the dead that were good, doe profite men more to liue well, then the counsell of the liuing that bee wicked, doe interre and bury all those that be now liuing.
CHAP. III. Marcus Aurelius concludeth the letter, and declareth at large the sciences he learned, and all the Masters which he had. And in the end, hee reciteth fiue not able things, in the obseruance of which the Romanes were very curious.
I Haue recited these things vnto thee, my friend Pulio, to The harme ensuing by euill education of children. the end thou shouldest know, what an infinit number there is of the wicked sort in the world, and how small & scant a number there is in Italy of the good; and this proceedeth of none other thing, but because the Fathers doe not bring vp their children as our Ancesters did. It is vnpossible a yong child should be vicious, if with due correction he had been instructed in vertues. Annius Verus my Father, in this case deserueth as much prayse, as I doe reproach. For whiles I was young, he neuer suffered me to sleepe in bed, to sit in chayre, to eate with him at his Table; neyther durst I lift vp mine eies to looke him in the face. And oftentimes he sayde vnto mee; Marcus, my sonne, I had rather thou shouldest bee an honest Romane, then a dissolute Philosopher. Thou desirest mee to write vnto thee, how many Masters I had, and what sciences I learned in my youth. Know thou, that I had many good Masters, though I am become an euill Scholler. I learned also diuers sciences, though presently I know little; not for that I forgot them, but because the affaires of the Empire of Rome, excluded mee from them, and caused me to forsake them. For it is a general rule; That Science in that place is neuer permanent, where the person is not at liberty.
I studyed Grammer with a Master called Euphermon, who sayde he was a Spaniard borne, and his head was hoare for age. In speech he was very temperate, in correction somewhat seuere, and in life exceeding honest. For there was a law in Rome, that the childrens Masters should bee very old: So that if the Disciple were ten yeares of age, the Master should bee aboue fifty. I studyed a long time Rethoricke, and the Law, vnder a Greeke called Alexander, borne in Lycaonya, which was so excellent an Oratour, that if hee had had as A Countrey of the lesser Asia, neere Phrygia. great a grace in writing with his pen, as he had eloquence in speaking with his tongue: truly hee had beene no lesse renowmed among the Grecians, then Cicero was honored among the Romans. After the death of this my Maister (at Naples) I went to Rhodes, & heard Rhetoricke again of Orosus of Pharanton, & of Pulio, which truly were men expert, and excellent in the art of Oratorie, and especially in making Comedies, Tragedies, & Enterludes, they were very fine, and had a goodly grace. Commodus Calcedon was my first Maister in naturall Phylosophy. He was a graue man, and in great credite with Adrian, he translated Homer out of Greeke into Latin. After this man was dead, I tooke Sextus Cheronensis for my Maister, who was Nephew to Plutarch the great, which Plutarch was Traianus Maister. I knew this Sextus Cheronensis at 35. yeares of age, at what time I doubt, whether there hath beene any Phylosopher [Page 11] that euer was so well esteemed throughout the Romane Empire as he. I haue him here vvith me, and although hee be fourescore years old, yet continually he vvriteth the Histories and gests done of my time.
I let thee know my friend Pulio, that I studyed the law two yeers, and the seeking of the lawes of many nations, was occasion that I knew many Antiquities: and in this science Volucius Mecianus vvas my master, a man vvhich could reade it vvell, and also dispute of it better. So that on a time hee demaunded of me merily, and said. Tel mee Marke, doest thou Conference betwixt Marcus and his Master. thinke there is any Law in the World that I knovv not? and I answered him; Tell mee Master, is there any Lavv in the World that thou obseruest.
The sift yeere that I vvas at Rhodes there came a marnellous pestilence, vvhich vvas the occasion of the dissolution of our Schoole, vvhich vvas in a narrovv and little place, and being there a certaine Painter, painting a rich and excellent Worke for the realme of Palestine, I then (for a truth) learned there to dravv and paint, and my Master vvas named Diogenetus, vvho in those dayes vvas a famous Painter. He painted in Rome sixe worthie Princes in one Table, and 6. other tirannous Emperours in an other. And amongst those euill, Nero the cruel was painted so liuely that he seemed aliue to all those that savv him, and that Table vvherein Nero vvas so liuely dravvne, vvas by decrees of the sacred Senate commanded to be burnt. For they sayde, That a man of so wicked a life deserued not to be represented in so goodly a Table. Others sayde, that it was so naturall and perfect, that hee made all men afrayde that beheld him, and if he had been left there a few dayes, that hee would haue spoken as if he had been aliue. I studyed the art of Necromancy a while, with all the kindes of Gyromancy and Chiromancie. In this science I had no particular Master, but that sometimes I went to heare Apolonius Lecture. After I was married to Faustine, I learned Cosmography in the City of Argelata, which is the chiefest towne of Illyrta, and my Masters were Iunius Rusticus, and Cyna Catudus, Chroniclers & Councellours to Adrian my Master, and Antoninus my Father in Law. And becaused I would not be ignorant in any of these things, that mans abilitie might attaine to, being at the wars of Dalia, I gaue my selfe to Musicke, and was apt to take it, and my Master was named Geminus Comodus, a man of a quicke hand to play, and of as pleasāt a voice to sing, as euer I heard Romane tongue prompt to speake.
This was the order of my life, and the time that I spent in learning. And (of good reason) a man so occupied cannot chuse but bee vertuous. But I sweare and confesse to thee, that I did not so much giue my selfe to studie, but that euery day I lost time enough. For Youth and the tender flesh desireth liberty, and although a man accustome it with trauels, yet he findeth vacant time in it also for his pleasures. Although all the ancient Romaines were (in diuers things) very studious; yet notwithstanding, amongst all ouer, and besides these, there were fiue things whereunto they had euer a great respect: and to those that therein offended, neyther requests auayled, rewards profited, nor law (olde nor new) dispensed, Truly their good wils are to be commended, and their diligence to bee exalted. For the Princes that gouern great Realms ought to employ their harts to make good lawes, and to occupie their eyes to see them duely excuted throughout the commonwealth. [Page 12] These fiue [...]eings were these.
1 The first, they ordayned, that Fiue especial respects among the Romanes. the Priests should not be dishonest. For in that Realme where Priests are dishonest, it is a token that the Gods against the people are angry.
2 The second, it was not suffered in Rome, that the Virgines Vestals should at their pleasure stay abroad. For it is but reason, that shee which of her owne free will hath heretofore promised openly to bee good, should now (if shee change her mind) be compelled in secret to bee chast.
3 The third, they decreede that the Iudges should bee iust and vpright. For there is nothing that decayeth a common wealth more then a Iudge who hath not for all men one ballance indifferent.
4 The fourth was, that the Captaines that should goe to the warres, should not bee Cowards: for there is no like daunger to the Commonwealth, nor no like slaunder to the Prince, as to commit the charge of men to him in the Field, who will be first to commaund, and last to fight.
The fifth was, that they which had charge of bringing vp of children, should not be vicious. For there is nothing more monstrous and more slanderous, then he that is a Master of children, should bee subiect and seruant to vices.
How thinkest thou, my friend Pulio, when all these things were obserued in Rome: Thinkest thou that the youth was so dissolute, as at this present? Thinkest thou indeed, that it is the same Rome, wherein (in times past) were so notable, good and auncient men? Beleeuest thou that it is that Rome, wherein (in the golden age) the old men were so honest, and the children so wel taught, the Armies well ordered, and the Iudges and Senatours so vpright and iust? I call God to witnesse, and sweare to thee, that it is not Rome, neyther hath it any likenesse of Rome, nor yet any grace to be Rome, and hee that would say that this Rome was the olde Rome, knoweth little of Rome. The matter was this, that the auncient and vertuous Where the Gods are displeased, all goodnes decayeth. Romans being dead, it seemeth to the Gods, that we are not yet worthy to enioy their houses. So that eyther this is not Rome, or else we bee not the Romanes of Rome. For considering the prowesse and vertuous deedes of the auncient Romanes, and weighing also our dissolute liues, it were a very great infamy for them to call vs their Successors. I desired my friend Pulio, to write vnto thee al these things, to the end thou mayest see what we were, and what wee are. For great things haue need of great power, and require a long time before they can grow, and come to their perfection, and then afterward at one moment, and with one blow, they fall down to the ground.
I haue beene more tedious in my letter then I thought to haue beene, and now I haue tolde thee that, which with diligence (by reason of my great affaires) in three or foure times, I haue written of that that wanteth in thine, and is too much in mine. We shall make a reasodable letter, and since I pardon thee for being too briefe, pardon thou mee also for being too long. I saw thee once enquire for Vnicornes horne in Alexandry, wherefore now I send thee a good peece, and likewise I send thee a horse which in my iudgement is good. Aduertise mee if thy daughter Drusilla bee aliue, with whom I was wont to laugh, and I will helpe her to a marriage. The immortall Gods keepe mee, O my Pulio, thy wife, thy stepmother, and thy daughter, and salute them all from me, and Faustine. [Page 13] Marke of Mount Celio, Emperour of Rome, with his owne hand writeth vnto thee.
CHAP. IIII. Of the excellency of Christian religion, which manifesteth the true God, and disproueth the vanity of the Ancients hauing so many Gods. And that in the olde time, when the enemies were reconciled in their houses, they caused also, that the Gods should embrace each other in the Temples.
HE that is the onely diuine Word begotten of the Father, Lord perpetuall of the Hierarchies, more auncient A most diuine and Christian Confession. then the Heauens, Prince of all Holinesse, chiefe head from whom all had their beginning, the greatest of all Gods, and Creator of all creatures, in the profoundnesse of his eternall sapience, accordeth all the Harmony and composition of Christian Religion. This is such a manner of sure matter, and so well layed, that neyther the miseries, which spring of the infections of naughtie Christians can trouble, nor yet the boisterous windes of the Heretiques are able to moue. For it were more likely that Heauen and Earth should both perish, then it should suspend for one day, & that there should be no Christian Religion. The ancient Gods which were inuentors of worldly things, as the foundation of their reproued sects was but a flying sand, and an vnstable ground, full of daungerous and erroneous abuses, so some of those poore wretches, looking perhaps like a ship running vpon a rocke, suspecting nothing, were drowned, Other like ruined buildings were shaken in sunder, and sell down dead, Finally, these Gods which only bare the name of Gods, shall be for euermore forgotten. But hee onely shall bee perpetuall, which in God by God, and through God hath his beginning.
Many and sundry were the multitude of the Nations which haue been in times past. That is to wit, the Sirians, the Assyrians, Persians, Medians, Macedonians, Grecians, Cythians, Arginians, Diuersity of Nations. Corinthians, Caldeans, Indians, Athenians, Lacedemonians, Africans, Vandales Sweuians, Allaines, Hungarians, Germaignes, Britons, Hebrews, Palestines, Gentiles, Iberthalides, Maurians, Lucitanians, Gothes and Spaniards. And truly, in al these looke how great the difference amongst them in their customes and manners was, so much diuersity was of the Ceremonies which they vsed, & their Gods which they honoured. For the Gentiles had this errour, that they sayd, one alone was not of power sufficient to create such a multitude as were created. If I were before all the Sages that euer were, they would not say the contrary, but without comparison the gods whom they worshipped and inuented were greater in multitude then the Realmes and Prouinces which they conquered and possessed. For by that folly the auncient Poets durst affirme in their writings, that the Gods of one Nation and Country were mortall enemies vnto the Gods of another Prouince. So that the Gods of Troy enuied the Gods of Greece more then the Prince of Greece enuied the Prince of Troy.
What a strange thing was it to see the Assyrians in what reuerence they worshipped the God Belus. The Egyptians the God Apis. The Caldeans the God Assas The Babilonians the deuouring Dragon. [Page 14] The Pharaones the statue of gold. The Palestines Belzebub. The Romans honoured the God Iupiter. The Affricans the God Mars The Corinthians the God Apollo. The Arabians God Astaroth. The Arginians the Sun. Those of Acaia the Moone. The Cidonians Belphegorn. The Amonites Balim. The Indians Baccus. The Lacedemonians, Osiges. The Macedonians did sacrifice to Mercurie. The Ephesians to their goddesse Diana. The Greekes to Iuno. The Armenians to Liber. The Troians to Vesta. The Latines to Februa. The Tarentines to Ceres. The Rhodians, (as sayth Apolonius Thianeus) worshipped the God Ianus, and aboue all things, wee ought to maruell at this, That they striued oftentimes amongst themselues, not so much vpon the possessions and seignories of Realmes, as vpon a certaine obstinacie they had to maintaine the Gods of the one, to bee of greater power then the others: for they thought if their gods were not esteemed, that the people should be empouerished, vnfortunate, and persecuted.
Pulio in his second booke De dissolatione regionum Orientarum, declareth that the first Prouince that rebelled against the Emperour Helius Adrianus (which was the fifteenth Emperour of Rome) was the land of Palestine, against which, was sent a Captaine, named Iulius Seuerus, a man of great courage, and very fortunate, and aduenturous in Armes. This Captaine did not onely finish the warres, but hee wrought such an outragious destruction in that land, that he besieged 52. Cities, and razed them to the ground, and burned 680. Villages, and slew so many in battell skirmish, and by Iustice, that amounted to the number of 5000. persons. For vnto the proud and cruell Captaines victory can neuer bee glorious, vnlesse they water the ground with the bloud of their enemies.
And furthermore, in the Cities and Townes besieged, the children, olde men and women, which dyed through hunger and pestilence, were more in number, then those which were slaine in the wars. For in wars the sword of the enemies lighteth not vpon all, but pestilence, and famine, hath no respect to any.
After this warre of the Palestines was ended, immediately after arose a more crueller betwixt the Alleynes, and Armenians. For there are many The occasion of the warres betweene the Alleines [...] Armenians. that see the beginning of the troubles and miseries which arise in Realmes; but there are few that consider the end, and seeke to remedie the same. The occasion of this warre was, as they came to the feast of the Mount Olimpus, they fell in disputations, whether of their Gods were better, and which of them ought to bee preferred before other. Whereof there sprang such contradictions, and such mortall hatred, that on euery part they were furiously moued to warres, and so vnder a colour to maintaine the gods which they honoured, both the common wealthes were brought into great pouerty, and the people also into great misery.
The Emperour Helius Adrianus, seeing such cruell warres to arise vpon so light occasion, sent thither the Captaine aboue named, Iulius Seuerus, to pacifie the Allaines and Armenians, and commaunded him that he should persecute those with warres, which would not be ruled by his arbitremēt & sentence. For those iustly deserue the sword, which with no reasonable conditions will condiscend vnto peace. But Iulius Seuerus vsed such policy that he made thē good friends, and neuer touched them, nor came neare them. Which [Page 15] thing was no lesse acceptable to the Emperour, then profitable to the Realmes. For the Captaine which subdueth the Country by entreatie, deserueth more honor then he which ouercommeth it by battell. The agreement of the peace was made vpon such condition, that the Allaines should take for their Gods the Armenian Gods, and the Armenians on the contrary, the Gods of the Allaines. And further, when the people should embrace and reconcile themselues to the Senate, that then the Gods should kisse the one the other, and to be reconciled to the temple. The vanity of the Ancients was such, and the blindnesse of mortall men so great, & so subiect were they to diuelish deuises, that as easily as the eternall wisedome createth a true man now a dayes: so easily then a vain man might haue inuented a false God. For the Lacedemonians had this opinion, that men had no lesse power to inuent gods, then the gods had to create men.
CHAP. V. How the Philosopher Bruxellus was greatly esteemed amongst the Ancients for his life, and the words which hee spake vnto the Romanes at the houre of his death.
PHarasmaco in his 20 booke De libertate Deorum (whereof Cicero maketh mē tion Cicero de natura Deorum. in his booke, De natura Deorum) sayth, that when the Gothes tooke Rome, and besieged the high Capitoll: there came amongst them a Philosopher called Bruxellus, the which (after the Gothes were repulsed out of Italy) remained with Camillus at Rome. And because at that time Rome wanted Philosophers, this Bruxellus was had in great veneration amongst all the Romanes, so that hee was the first stranger of whom (being aliue) a statue was euer made in the Senate: the Romanes vsed to make a statue of the Romanes being aliue, but not to strangers till after their death, The age of this Bruxellus was 113. whereof 65. hee had been an inhabitant of Rome. And among other things they recite 7. notable things of his life.
1 The first, that in 60. yeeres, no mā euer saw him issue out of the wals of Rome. For in the olde time the Sages were little esteemed, if in their behauiours they were not iust and vpright.
2 The second, that in 60. yeares no man heard him speake an idle [...] Notable sentences of Bruxellus. word: For the words that are superfluous doe greatly deface the authoritie of the person.
3 The third, that in all his time they neuer saw him lose one houre of time. For in a wise man there is no greater folly, then to see him spend a moment of an houre idely.
4 The fourth, that in all his time, hee was neuer detected of any vice. And let no man thinke this to bee a small matter. For few are they of so long life, which are not noted of some infamy after their death.
The fifth, that in all the 60. years he neuer made quarrell, nor striued with any man; and this thing ought to be no lesse esteemed then the other. For truly hee that liueth a long time without offering wrong to another, may be called a monster in nature.
6 The sixt, that in 3. or 4. yeares hee neuer issued out of the temple, and in this case this philosopher shewed him selfe to be a good man. For the vertuous man ought not to content himselfe only to be void of vices: but he ought also to withdraw himselfe from the vicious.
[Page 16] 7 The seuenth and last, that hee spake more often with the Gods then with men.
This Philosopher now drawing neere to the houre of death, all the graue Senators came to visite him, & to thanke him for that he had liued so long amongst them in so good conuersation, and that so willingly hee cared and watched for the wealth of Rome. And likewise all the people of Rome were right sorry for his sicknesse, and that they should loose the company of so excellent and vertuous a man. The good Philosopher in the presence of them al spake these words vnto the Senate.
CHAP. VI. Of that the sage Philosopher Bruxellus spake to the Senate of Rome, at the houre of his death.
SInce you are wise (O worthy Senatours) The speech of Bruxellus at his death. mee thinketh you should not lament my death, sithens I my selfe so ioyfully doe receiue it. For wee ought not to lament the death weo take, but the wicked life wee leade. The man is very simple that dreadeth death, for feare to lose the pleasures of life. For death ought not to bee feared for losse of life, but because it is a sharpe scourge of the wicked life. I dye (noble Senatours) in ioy and pleasure. First, because I doe not remember that euer I did any euill in all my life, or displeasure to any of the Common-wealth. And I am certaine that the man which did no euill to men in his life, the Gods will doe him no harme at the houre of his death. Secondarily, I dye ioyfully, to see all Rome lament the losse of my life. For that man is very wicked and vnhappy whose life the people lament, and at whose death they doe reioyce. Thirdly, I dye ioyfully, onely to remember that the threescore yeers which I haue beene in Rome, alwayes I haue trauelled for the common wealth. For the iust Gods told mee, that there is no death with paine, but where life is without profite. Fourthly, I dye ioyfully, not so much for the profit I haue done to men, as for the seruice I haue done to the Gods. For regarding to how many profitable things we employ our life, we may say, wee liue onely the time which is employed to the seruice of God.
Ceasing to speake further of my person, I will (worthy Senatours) disclose vnto you a highsecret which toucheth your Common wealth, and this it is. That our Father Romulus founded Rome, Numa Pompilius erected the high Capitoll, Aeneus Marcius enclosed it with wals, Brutus deliuered it from Tyrants, the good Camillus droue out the Frenchmē, Quintus Scicinnatus augmented her power: but I leaue it peopled with gods, which shall defend Rome better then walles or men. For in the end, the feare of one god is more worth the the strength of all men. When I came to Rome it was a confusion to see how it was peopled with men, and vnfurnished of Gods. For there was but fiue Gods, that is to say, Iupiter, Mars, Ianus, Berecinthia, and the Goddes Vesta. But now it is not so. For there remaineth for euery one a priuate god. Me thinketh it an vniust thing that Treasuries should bee full of gold, and the Temples voide of Gods. As there is 28000. housholds, so you may account your selues happy, that I leaue you 28000 Gods: by the vertue of the which I coniure you O Romanes, that each of you bee contented with the God of his house, and haue no care to apply to himselfe the Gods of the Common wealth. For he that emproprieth to himselfe that which ought to be cō mon to al, is to be blamed of God, & hated of men. [Page 17] This shall bee therefore the order that you shall keepe and haue towards the Gods, if you wil not erre in their seruice. That is to vnderstand, that yee shall keepe the mother Berecinthia, to pacifie the ire of the Gods: yee shall keepe the Goddesse Vesta, to turne from you the wicked destinies. Yee shall keepe the God Iupiter, and shall commit vnto him the gouernment of your Commonwealth. And also yee shall keepe him for the God aboue all gods in heauen and earth. For if Iupiter did not temper the ire, which the Gods about haue against you: there should bee no memory of men heere beneath in earth. Of other particular gods which I leaue you, vse your particular profite. But yet notwithstanding in the meane season (Romanes) take you heede to your selues, and if at any time fortune should hee contrary, let no man be so hardy to speake euill of the God which hee hath in his house. For the Gods tell mee, that it was sufficient enough to dissemble with them which serue them not, and not to pardon those that offend them. And doe not deceiue your selues in saying that they are priuate Gods, and not able to help themselues. For I let you know, that there is not so little a God, but is of power sufficient to reuenge aniniury. O Romanes, it is reason, that all from henceforth liue ioyfully, and in peace, and furthermore, thinke your selues assured not to he ouercome by your enemies, because now your neighbours of you, and not you of them, shall desire to borrow Gods, and because yee shall see mee no more, yee thinke I must dye, and I thinke because I dye, I shall beginne to liue. For I goe to the Gods, and leaue among you the Gods, because I depart.
CHAP. VII. How the Gentiles thought that one God was not able to defend them from their enemies, and how the Romanes sent throughout all the Empire to borrow Gods when they fought against the Gothes.
IN the yeere of the foundatiō of Rome Paul. Oros De Mach. Mund. lib. 6 1164. which according to the count of the Latines, was 402. from the incarnation (as Paulus Orosus in the sixt booke, De machina mundi sayth, and Paulus Diaconus in the 12. booke of the Romane Histories,) The Gothes (which as Spartian sayeth, were called otherwise Gethules, or Messagethes) were driuen out of their Country by the Huns, and came into Italy to seeke new habitations, and became naturall and built houses.
At this time there was an Emperour of Rome named Valentine, a man of small reputation and courage in warres, and endued with few good conditions, for that hee was of Arian his sect. The Kings of these Gothes were two renowmed men, whose names were Randagagismus and Alaricus. Of the which two, Randagagismus was the chiefest and most puissant, and he had a noble minde, and a very good wit. He led with him at the least 2000000. Gothes, the which all with him, and he with them made an oath, to shedde as much bloud of the Romanes as they could, and offer it to their Gods. For the barbarous people had a custom, to noint the God (which was at that time in the Temple of Venus) with the bloud of their enemies, whom they had slain [Page 18] The newes of the comming of this cruel Tyrant was published throughout all Italy.
Whose determination was not onely to raze the wals of Rome downe to the earth, batter towers, dungeons, houses, walles, and buildings: but also he purposed to abolish, and vtterly to bring to nought the name of Rome, and likewise of the Romanes.
Of this thing all the Italians were in very great and maruellous feare and the most puissant and couragious Knights and Gentlemen, agreede together presently to retire within the Walles of Rome, and determined to dye in the place to defend the liberty thereof. Fot amongst the Romanes there was an ancient custome, that when they created a Knight, An ancient custome among the Romanes: they made him to sweare to keepe 3. things.
1 First, he sware to spend all the dayes of his life in the wars.
2 Secondarily, hee sware that neyther for pouerty nor riches, nor for any other things, hee should euer take wages but of Rome onely.
3 Thirdly, hee sware, that hee would rather chuse to dye in liberty, then to liue in captiuity.
After all the Romanes (scattered abroad in Italy) were together assembled in Rome, they agreede to send letters by their Purseuants, not onely to their Subiects, but also to all their confederates. The effect whereof was this.
CHAP. VIII. Of a Letter sent from the Senate of Rome to all the Subiects of the Empire.
THe sacred Senate, and all the people of Rome, to all their faithfull and louing Subiects, and to their deare friends and confederates, wisheth health and victory against your enemies. The variety of time, the negligence of you all, and the vnhappy successe of our aduentures. haue brought vs in processe of time, that wheras Rome conquered realms, and gouerned so many strange Seignories, now at this day commeth strangers to conquere and destroy Rome; in such sort, that the barbarous people (whom we were wont to keepe for slaues) sweare to become our Lords and Masters. Wee let you know now, how all the barbarous nations haue conspired against Rome our mother, and they with their King haue made a vow, to offer all the Romanes bloud to their Gods in the Temples. And peraduenture their pride and fiercenesse beeing seene, & our innocency knowne, Fortune will dispose another thing. For it is a geuerous rule, That it is vnpossible for a A rule deseruing obseruation. Prince to haue the victory of that warre which by malice is begunne, and by pride and fiercenesse pursued. It hath seemed good vnto vs (since their cause is vniust, and ours righteous) to endeuour our selues by all meanes how to resist this barbarous people. For oft times that which by iustice was gotten, by negligence is lost. For the remedy of this mischiefe to come the sacred Senate hath prouided these things following, and for the [Page 19] accomplishing thereof your fauour, and aide is necessary.
1 First of all, wee haue determined to repayre with all diligence our ditches, walles, gates, and bulwarkes, Considerations resolued on b [...] the Romans for their owne good, and in these places to arme all our friends. But to accomplish that, and diuers other for the necessity of warfare, we lacke money; for yee know well inough, That the warre cannot bee prosperous where enemies abound, and money is scarce.
2 Secondarily, wee haue commaunded, that all those which bee sworne Knights and souldiers of Rome, repayre immediately to Rome, and therefore yee shall send vs all those which are vnder the age of 50. and aboue the age of 20. For in great warres auncient men giue counsell, and young men and lusty to execute the same are required.
3 We haue agreede and concluded, that the City bee prouided of victuals, munition, and defence at the least for two yeares. Wherefore we desire yee, that yee send vs from you the tenth part of wine, the fift part of flesh, & the third part of your bread: For we haue all sworne to die, yet we meane not to dye for famine, assieged as fearefull men: but fighting in plain field, like valiant Romanes.
4 Fourthly, wee haue prouided, (since the vnknowne barbarous come to fight with vs) that you bring vs to Rome strange Gods to helpe and defend vs. For you know well inough, that since great Constantine, we haue been so poore of Gods, that we haue not but one God, whom the Christians do honour. Therefore we desire you, that you wil succor vs with your Gods in this our extreame necessity: For amongst the Gods wee know no one alone sufficient, to defend all the Romane people from their enemies. The wals therefore being well repayred, and all the young and warlike men in Garrison in the City, the batteries well furnished, and the Treasure house well replenished with money, and aboue all, the Temples well adorned with Gods, wee hope in our Gods to haue the victory of our enemies. For in fighting with men, and not against Gods, a man ought alwayes to haue hope of victory: for there are no men of such might, but by God and other me may be vanquished. Fare ye wel, &c.
After this letter was sent through all the dominion of the Romaines, not tarrying for answere of the same, they forthwith openly blasphemed the name of Christ, and set vp idols in the Temples, vsed the ceremonies of the Gentiles, and that which was worse then that, they sayde openly that Rome was neuer so oppressed with Tyrants, as it hath beene since they were Christians.
And further they sayde, if they called not againe all the Gods to Rome, the City should neuer bee in safeguard, for that they haue dishonored and offended their Gods, and cast them out of Rome, and that those barbarous people were sent to reuēge their iniurie. But the diuine prouidēce which giueth no place to human malice to execute his forces, before the walles were repayred, and before the messengers brought answere, and before the strange Gods could enter into Rome, Randagagismus King of the Gothes, with 2000000. of barbarous, (without the effusion of Christian bloud) suddenly in the mountains of Vesulanes, with famine, thirst, and stones which fell from heauen, lost all his Armie, not one left aliue but himselfe, who had his head strucken off in Rome. And this thing the eternal wisdome brought to passe, to the end the Romanes should see, that Iesus Christ the true God of the Christians, had no need of strange Gods to defend his seruants.
CHAP. IX. Of the true and liuing God, and of the maruailes wrought in the olde Law, to manifest his diuine power, and of the superstition of the false Gods.
O Grosse ignorance, & vnspeakable obstinacy, O iudgements of God inscrutable. The wilfull ignorance, and peruersity of the Gentiles. What thinke these Gentiles by the true God? They searched the false Gods to helpe them, and had a liuing God of their owne: they sought Gods full of guile and deceit, and worse then that they thought it necessary, that that God (which created all things) should be accompanied with their gods, to defend them which could make nothing. Let now all their gods come forth into the fieldes on the one side, and I will goe forth alone in godly company, that is to say with the high God on th'other part: And we will compare the deedes and proue the aydes of their false God, against and with the last worke of our true God. And they shall cleerely perceiue their falsehood and our truth. For the tongue that speaketh of God can neuer beare with any lye, and that which speaketh of Idols, can neuer disclose any truth. If they esteeme him much for creation of the world with his might: is it any lesse to preserue and gouerne it by his wisdome? For many things are done in a moment, for the preseruation wherof long times is requisite, and much painefull trauaile necessary. I demand further what God of the gentiles could do that which our God hath done? that is to know, within one Arke to make quiet the Lyon with the Leoperd, the Wolse with the Lambe, the Beare with the Cow, the Of the great concorde & agreement of Noahs Arke. the Tigar with the Crocodill, the stoned horse with the Mare, the Dogge with the Catte, the Foxe with the Hennes, the Hounds with the Hares, and so of other beastes: whose enmitie is greater thone against thother, then that of man is against men. For the enmity amongst men proceedeth of malice, but that of beasts proceedeth of nature.
Also I demaund, what God (if it were not the true God so mighty) could slay and drowne (in one houre and moment) so many men, women, and beasts: so that all those which were in the world (eight onely excepted) perished in the deluge of Noe. The iudgement of God by ordinance, and their offences deserue this so maruellous a dammage. For God neuer executed any notable punishment, but first it came through our wicked offences. And if this be counted for a great thing, I will that an other thing bee had in great estimation: which is, that if God shewed his rigorous iustice in this punishment, incontinently hee shewed his might and clemency in remedying it, in that of these eight persons (which were but few) the generation did multiply in so great a number, that they did replenish many and great Realmes: whereon a man ought to maruell, for according as Aristotle sayth, Great things are easily put to The saying of Aristotle. destruction, and brought to nought, but with great difficultie they are remedied and repaired againe.
And further I demaund, what god of the Gentiles was so puissant to do this, which the God of the Hebrewes did, in that ancient and opulent Realme of the Egyptians? That is to witte, when hee would, and when it pleased him, hee made the riuers run bloud, infected the flesh, darkned the [Page 21] ayre, dryed the seas, and slew the first begotten, obscured the Sunne, and did wonders in Canaan, and other wonderfull things in the redde Sea.
Finally, hee commaunded the Sea to drowne the Prince aliue with all his Egyptians, and that he should let the Hebrewes passe by. If one of these false gods had done any one of these things, it had beene to be maruelled at: but the true God doing it, wee should not maruell at it. For, according to our little vnderstanding, it seemeth a great thing, but in respect of that the diuine power can do it is nothing. For where God putteth Weake is the arine of man, to resist against God. to his hand, there are no men so mighty no beasts so proud, nor heauen so hie, nor sea so deepe that can resist his power. For as he gaue them power, so can hee take it from them at his pleasure.
Further, what God of the Gentiles (although they were assembled together) could haue had the power to haue destroyed one man onely, as the true God did, the which The mighty Army of Senacherib ouerthrowne. (in the time of King Zedechias) made an hundred and fourescore thousand of the campe of the Assyrians die, the Hebrewes being a sleepe which were their mortall enemies. And truly in this case, God shewed to Princes, and great Lords, how little their money and their subtle wits preuayle them in feates of warre, when God hath determined another thing for their deserts. For in the end, the first inuention of warres proceedeth of mans ambition, and worldly malice, but the victory of them proceedeth of the diuine pleasure. What God of the Gentiles could haue done that which our true God did? when he brought vnder the feet of the renowmed Captaine Ioshua, two and thirty Kings and Realmes, whom he depriued not onely from their lands, but also bereft them of their liues, in tearing them in peeces, and diuiding The succes of Ioshua ouer Kings and Kingdomes. the miserable Realmes into twelue Tribes. Those Realmes (which in old time belonged vnto the Hebrews) were more then 2000. yeeres kept of them in tyranny, wherefore God would, that by the hands of Ioshua, they should bee restored.
And though God deferred it a long time, it was to giue them grieuous torments, and not for that God had forgotten them. And although Princes doe forgette many wrongs and tyrannies, yet notwithstanding, riuers of bloud cease not to runne before the face of the deuine Iustice. If all the ancient Gods had had power, would not they also haue holpen their Princes? since the gods lost no lesse in losing their temples, then men lost in losing their Realmes: for it touched more the case of the Auncients, to lose one little Temple, then for men to lose a The God of Troy could not resist the Grecian. noble Realme. We see that the gods of the Troians could not resist the Greekes, but that both men and gods, gods and men came into Carthage, & from Carthage into Trinacria, and from Trinacria, into Italy, and from Italy into Laurentum, and from Laurentum into Rome. So they went about flying, declaring that the gods of Troy, were no lesse conquered of the Gods of Greece, then the Dukes and Captaines of Greece, were vanquishers of the Captaines of Troy, the which thing is hard to them that presume to be Gods: For the true God doth not onely make himselfe feared, but also beloued and feared both, That we say of the one, that same we may wel say of the other. That is to know, that all the Gods in the Realms and Temples, wherin they honoured and serued: but wee see the one destroyeth the other, as it is declared by the Hebrewes, which was in bondage of the [Page 22] Assyrians: the Assyrians of the Persians, the Persians of the Macedonians, the Macedonians of the Medes, the Medes of the Greekes, the Greekes of the Penians, the Penians of the Romanes, the Romanes of the Gothes, the Gothes of the Mores: So that there was no Realme nor Nation, but was conquered.
Neyther the Writers can deny but they would haue exalted theyr Gods and Ceremonies, that the Gods and their Worshippers should not haue end. But in the end, both Gods and men had all end, except the Christian Religion, which shall neuer haue end. For it is founded of that which hath neither beginning nor ending. One of the things which comforteth my heart most in the Christian Religion, is to see, that since the time the Churches were founded, the Kinges and Princes most puissant haue been alwayes their enemies, and the most feeble and poore, alwayes greatest helpers, and defenders of the same. O glorious militant Church, which now is no other then gold amongst The dignity of the church militant. the rust, a rose amongst the thorns, come amongst the chaffe, mary amongst the bones, Margarites amongest the peble-stones, a holy soule amongst the rotten flesh, a Phoenix in the Cage, a shippe rocking in the raging Seas, which the more shee is beaten, the faster shee sayleth.
And there is no Realme so little, nor no man of so little fauour, but when other doe persecute him, hee is by his friends, parents, and defendors fauoured and succoured, so that many times those which thinke to destroy are destroyed, and those which seeme to take their part, were their chiefest enemies. Doth not that proceede of the great secret of God? For though God suffered the wicked to be wicked a while, God will not therefore suffer that one euill man procure another to doe euill.
The Palestines and those of Hierusalem, had not for their principall enemies but the Chaldeans, and the Chaldeans had for their enemies the Idumeans, the Idumeans the Assyrians, the Assyrians the Persians, the Persians the Ariginians, the Ariginians, the Athenians, the Athenians had for their principall enemies the Lacedemonians, The enmity of nations one against another. and the Lacedemonians the Sydonians, the Sidonians the Rhodians, and the Rhodians the Scythians, the Scythians the Hunnes, the Hunnes had the Alaines, the Alaines the Sweuians, the Sweuians the Vandales, the Vandales the Valerians, the Valerians the Sardinians, the Sardinians the Africanes, the Africanes the Romanes, the Romans the Dacians, the Dacians the Gothes, the Gothes the Frenchmen, the Frenchmen the Spaniards, and the Spaniards the Mores.
And of all these Realmes, the one hath persecuted the other. And not all one: but our holy mother the Church hath alwayes been oppressed and persecuted with those realms, and hath beene succoured of none, but of Iesu Christ onely, and he hath euer succoured and defended it well: For the things that God taketh charge of although all the world were against thē, in the end it is impossible for them to perish.
CHAP. X. How there is but one true God, and how happy these Realmes are, which haue a good Christian to their King, and how the Gentiles affirme, that good Princes (after their death) were changed into Gods, and the wicked into Diuels, which the Authour proueth by sundry examples.
ALthough the common opinion of the simple people was, Variety of opinions concerning the true God. that there was many gods, yet notwithstanding, al the Philosophers affirmed, that there was but one God, (who of some was named Iupiter) the which was chiefe aboue all other Gods
Others called him the first intelligence, for that hee had created all the World. Others called him the first cause, because hee was the beginner of all things. It seemeth that Aristotle vnderstood this thing, and was of this opinion, forasmuch as he sayth in his 12. booke of his Metaphysickes. All superiour and inferiour things would bee well ordered, and many things much better by the arbitrement Arist. in Metaph lib. 12. Mar. Var. in lib mist. Theol. Cic. in lib. de nat. Deorum. of one, then by the aduise of many. Marcus Varro in his booke, De Theologia mistica, and Cicero in his booke De natura Deorum, although these were Gentiles, and curious enough of the Temples, yet they doe mocke the Gentiles, which beleeued there were many Gods, and that Mars and Mercury, and likewise Iupiter, and the whole flocke of Gods (which the Gentiles set vp) were all mortall men as we are.
But because they knew not, that there were good & bad Angells, nor knew not that there was any Paradise to reward the good, nor Hell to torment the euill. They held this opinion, that good men after their death were Gods, and euill men deuils. And not contented with these foolish abuses, the Deuill brought them into such an errour, that they thought it consisted in the Senates power to make some Gods, and other Deuils For when there dyed at Rome any Emperour, if he had been well affected of the Senate, immediately hee was honoured for a God: and if hee dyed in displeasure of the Senate, hee was condemned for a Deuill. And to the end we doe not speake by fauour, but by writing. Herodian saith, that Faustine was the daughter of Antoninus Pius, and wife of Marcus Aurelius, which were Emperours, the one after the other. And truely there were few eyther of their Predecessors, or of their Successors, which were so good as they were, and in mine opinion none more better: And therefore was shee made a Goddesse, and her father a God.
An Emperour that coueteth perpetuall memory, must note 5. things Emperours made Gods or Deuils by decree of the Senate Fiue things fitting an Emperour. which he should haue in his life. That is to say, pure in life, vpright in iustice, aduenturous in feates of Armes, excellent in knowledge, and welbeloued in his Prouinces: which vertues were in these two excellent Emperours. This Empresse Faustine was passing fayre; and Writers prayse her beauty in such sort, that they sayd it was impossible for her to bee so beautiful, but that the Gods had placed some diuine matter in her. Yet notwithstanding, this added thereunto, it is doubtfull, whether the beauty of her face was more praysed, or the dishonesty of her life discommended. For her beauty maruelously amased those that saw her, and her dishonesty offended them much that knew her. [Page 24] Yet after the Emperour Marcus Aurelius had triumphed ouer the Parthians, as he went visiting the Prouinces of Asia, that goodly Faustine in foure dayes dyed at the mount Taurus, (by occasion of a burning Feuer) and so annealed, was caryed to Rome.
And since shee was the daughter of so good a Father, and wife of so dearly Romaine [...] goddesse. beloued an Emperour, amongst the Goddesses, shee was canonized; but considering her vnconstant, or rather incontinent life, it was neuer thought that the Romaines would haue done her so much honour. Wherefore the Emperour reioyced so much, that he neuer ceased to render thankes vnto the Senate. For truely, a benefit ought to be acceptable to him that receyueth it especially, when it commeth vnlooked for.
The contrarie came to the death of Tiberius, third Emperour of Rome, which was not onely killed, & drawne through the streetes by the Romaines, but also the Priests of all the temples assembled together, and openly prayed vnto the gods, that they would not receyue him to them: and prayed to the Infernall Furies, that greeuouslie they would torment him, saying: It is iustly required, that the Tyrant which disprayseth the life of the good in this A worthie saying. Life, should haue no place amongst the good after his death.
Leauing the common Opinion of the rude people, which in the old time had no knowledge of the true GOD, and declaring the opinion of Aristotle, who called God the first cause: the opinion of the Stoyckes, which called him the first Intelligence: and the opinion of Cicero, who vnder the colour of Iupiter, putteth none other God but him: I say and confesse (according to the religion of Christian Faith) there is but one onely GOD, which is the Creatour of Heauen and Earth: whose excellency and puissant Maiestie is little to that our tongue cā speake. For our vnderstanding can not vnderstand, nor our iudgement can determine, neyther our memory can comprehend, and much lesse our tongue can declare it.
That which Princes and all other Faithful ought to belieue of GOD, is, that they ought to know God to bee Almightie, and incomparable, a God immortall, incorruptible, immoueable, great, Omnipotent, a perfect and sempiternall GOD; For all mans power is nothing, in respect of his diuine Maiestie.
I say that our LORD GOD is the onely High God, that if the creature hath any good, it is but a mean good. For a man comparing well the good which hee possesseth, to the miserie No goodnesse but proceedeth from God. and calamity which persecuteth him: without doubt, the euil which followeth after is greater then the good which accompanyeth him.
Also our GOD is immortall, and eternall, which like as he had no beginning, so shall hee neuer haue ending. And the contrarie is to the miserable man, which if some see him borne, other see him die. For the byrth of the children, is but a memory of the graue to the aged. And GOD only is incorruptible, the which in his Beeing hath no other corruption, nor diminution: but all mortall men suffer corruption in their soules through Vice, and in their bodies through wormes; for in the end no mā is priuiledged, but that his body is subiect to corruption, and his soule to be saued or damned.
Also GOD is no changeling, and in this case though hee changeth his worke, yet hee changeth not his Eternall counsell. But in men it is all contrarie: For they oftentimes beginne their busines with grauitie, and afterward change their counsell at a better time, and leaue it lightly.
I haue now shewed you that God [Page 25] onely is incomprehensible, the Maiestie of whom can not be attained, nor his Wisedome vnderstanded, which thing is aboue mans intelligence. For there is no man so sage nor profound, but that an other in an other time is as sage and profound as he.
Also GOD onely is Omnipotent: For that he hath power not onely ouer the liuing, but also ouer the dead: not only ouer the good, but also ouer the euil. For the man which doth not feele his mercie, to giue him glory, he will make him feele his wrath, in giuing him paine. Oh ye Princes of this world, truely it is both iust and necessarie, that you acknowledge subiection vnto the Prince of Heauen and Earth, which in the end although yee be great, and thinke your selues to be All power is in the hand of of God. much worth, although that you haue much, and can do much, yet in respect of that Supreame Prince, you are nothing worth, neither can you doe any thing. For there is no Prince in the world this day, but can doe lesse then he would, & would more thē he hath. Since all that wee haue spoken of before is true, let Princes & great Lords see how consonāt it is to reason, that sith all the creatures were not created but by one: Why then doe they not honour ONE aboue all? For as a Prince will not suffer that an other be called King in his Realme, so likewise GOD will not permit that any other should be honoured in this world but he onely.
The Father did a great benefite to vs, for to create vs without the desire of any man: and also the Sonne to redeeme and buy vs without the help of any man: and aboue all the holie Ghost to make vs Christians without the deserts of any man. For all the good deeds and seruices which we are able to doe, are not sufficient to requite the least benefit that he shewed vnto vs. Princes ought greatly to esteem such a gift, that God hath created thē men, & not beasts: and much more they should esteeme that they are made Lords and not seruants: but most of all they ought to reioyce that God hath made them Christians and not Gentils, nor Moores. For it profiteth them little to haue scepters and Realms to condemne, if they shall not acknowledge the holy Church, without the which no man may or can bee saued.
Oh diuine Bountie! how many Paynims had bin better peraduenture then I: if thou hadst chosen them for the Church? and if thou hadst made me a Paynime, I had bene worse then they. Thou leauest them which haue serued thee, and hast chosen me a sinner which offend thee. Oh Lord God thou knowest what thou doest, and where thou art: but I know not what I doe, nor what I speake. For wee are bound to prayse the workes of God, & haue not licence to call them back. Those Emperours and Painim Kings which haue been good, (as there hath been manie) so much lesse they haue to answere, for that in time of charge they were not called. And likewise the contrarie to the wicked Christian Princes: the more goodnes they haue receyued without measure: so much the more torments shalbe giuē them in eternall fire. For according to the ingratitude which they haue shewed, for the benefites by them receyued in this world: so shall the bitternesse of theyr paines bee, which they shall receyue in Hell.
Princes are much bound to doe wel, because they were created of God reasonable Wherefore Princes should obey God. men; but they are much more bound, because they be Christians, & more then others boūd, because they were made mightie, and placed in so high estate. For the greatest power is not for a Prince to haue and possesse much, but to profite much. They doe [Page 36] not require of a little and weake Tree much, but that hee beare his Fruit in due time. For a great and high tree, is bound to giue wood to heate them that be a colde, shadow to refresh the weary trauellours, & fruit to comfort the needie, & also it ought to defend it selfe from all importunate windes. For the vertuous Prince ought to bee a shadow and resting place, where the good may couer themselues beeing weary.
The Church doth moue vs to doe many things, and our conscience willeth vs to obserue more. But if the Princes will promise me they will doe two things onely, (that is to say) that they wilbe faithfull in the law of God, whom they honour, and that they wil not vse tyrannie against their people, whom they gouerne: From henceforth I promise them the glory & felicity which they desire. For that prince only dieth in safegard, which dieth in the loue of our SAVIOVR IESVS CHRIST, and hath liued in the loue of his neighbour.
Princes and great Lords which presume to bee good Christians, should watche greatly that all things might be done to the Seruice of GOD, begunne in God, followed in God, and ended in God. And if they wil watch in this, I let them knowe, that as touching the Exaltation of Faith, they should watch so much, that all should know, that for the defence of the same they are readie to dye. For if the Prince belieue that there is paine for the euill, and rewarde for the good in an other life: it is impossible but that hee amend his life, and gouerne well his Common-wealth.
Thinke this for a surety, that where the Princes feares not God, neyther themselues nor their Realms can prosper. For the Felicitie or miserie of Realms, proceedeth not of the paines and trauells that the Kings and people doe take: but of the merits which the Kings & Realms deserue. In great perill liueth that Realm, whose Prince is an euill Christian: Happie & sure is that cōmonwealth, wherof the Prince hath a good conscience: For the man that is of a good conscience, will not do any euil thing to the cōmonwelth.
CHAP. XI. Of sundry Gods which the ancients worshipped: Of the office of those Gods, how they were reuenged of them when they displeased them, and of the twentie elect Gods.
THough to men of cleare iudgement, the works of God are great of themselues, without any comparison to others: yet that the white may be better knowne from the blacke, I will satisfie somwhat the curious reader, in reckoning vp a flocke of false Gods, that by them and theyr power, men shall see how much the Princes are bound to the true God.
The ancient Painyms had gods of diuers sortes: howbeit the chiefe of How much men are bound to the Almightie God. all were these, which they called Diis electi. They would haue said gods of heauen: which gods (as they thought) sometime descended from Heauen to earth. These gods were xx. in number: as Ianus, Saturnus, Iupiter, Genius Mercurius, Apollo, Mars, Vulcanus, Neptunus, Sol, Orcus, Vibar, Tellus, Ceres, Iuno, Minerna, Luna, Diana, Venus, Vesta.
These viii. last rehearsed were goddesses, and xii. of the first were gods, No man might take any of those as his owne god, but as common and indifferēt to al. Their office was to profit all. I mean al of any one Realm, one Prouince singular, or one noble citie. [Page 27] And first note, they had one god, whō they called Candus, whom they honoured much, and offred vnto him manie sacrifices, to the ende that God might giue them wise children. And this if they had demanded of the True GOD, they should haue had reason. For the impostumation of humane malice, is swelled in such wise, that that man is in great jeopardie, whome God hath not indued with wise iudgement.
They had also an other Goddesse, whom they named Lucina: to whom they did commend women, quicke, and great with Childe, to sende them safe deliuery. And without the walles of Rome, in a streete called Salaria, she had a great Church, wherein all the Romane women conceiued with childe, did sacrifice to their goddesse Lucina: and as Fronten declareth, De veneratione Deorum: there they remayned nine dayes, and nine nightes, making their vowe.
Numa Pompilius built the church of this Goddesse, which was plucked downe by the Consull Rutilius, because a Daughter of his (great with childe) made her vow, & kept her nine vigilles, and vpon more deuotion was desirous to bee deliuered in the saide Temple. Such was her mishap, that her deliueric was not onely euill, but her death worse. Whervpon Rutilius in his rage, caused the tēple secretly to be burned. For we read many times, that whē the Gentiles saw they were distressed, and in great necessity, they recommended themselues to their Gods: and if they did not then succour them in their necessitie, immediately they tooke from them their sacrifice, beate downe their temples, or chaunged their Gods.
And further, the Gentiles had another God called Opis, which was called the God of the Babe-newborne: euen as Lucina was Goddesse of the Mother, which bare it.
The custome was, that during all the nine monethes that the Woman was quicke with childe, shee carryed the image of the God Opis, hanging vpon her belly, tyed to her gyrdle, or sowed to her Garments, and at the houre of her deliuerie, the Mid-wife, tooke in her handes the layde Image: and euen in the very byrth before herselfe layde handes vpon it, shee first of all touched the Childe with the Idoll. If the childe were well borne, the parents that day made great Oblations to the Idoll: but if it were euill, or dead borne, straight-wayes the Parents of the Childe did beate the Image of the poore God Opis to powder, or else burned it, or drowned it in the riuer.
Also the Gentiles worshipped an other God, called Vaginatus, and vnto him they did great Sacrifice, because theyr Children should not weepe much: and therefore they carryed the image of this god Vaginatus hanged about their neckes, for the Gentiles thought it an euil signe and token, when the Babe wept much in his infancie, he should haue very euill fortune in his Age.
They had also another God called God Guninus: him they honoured with Sacrifices, to the ende that hee should be their Patrone, for the safetie of theyr Children, in their cradels. And those which were poore, had the God Guninus, hanged vpon the cradels, but the Rich had very sumptuous cradels, wherein were painted manie Gods, Gunini: Herodian, and Pulio, declareth in the life of Seuerus, how that when the Emperour Seuerus was in the warre against the Gaules, his wife (whose name was Iulia) was deliuered of a Daughter, which was his first. And it happened that a Sister of this Iulia, named Mesa, natiue of Persia, and of the Cittie of Mesa, sent vnto her Sister at Rome, a Cradell, all of an Vnicorns horne, and fine gold, and [Page 28] about the same was paynted many images of the God Cuninus. The cradle was of so great value, that many yeares after it was kept in the treasurie of Rome. Though indeed the Romanes kept those things, more for the desire of memorie, then for the loue of riches.
The Romaines had likewise an other god, whome they called god Ruminus, which was as much to say, as god of sucking-babes, and to him, the Matrones of Rome offred diuers sacrifices, to the end he would keepe their breasts frō corruption, and giue them milke enough for their little children. And all the while they gaue the child sucke, they had the image of this God about their necks, hanging downe to their breasts. And euery morning before she gaue the child sucke, the mother sent a dishful of milk to offer the god Ruminus: and if she happened to bee in such place where there was no Church dedicated to the god Ruminus, then she bathed her god Ruminus, which she daily carryed with her, in milke.
They had also another God, whom they called god Stellinus, and him they impropered to their Children, when they began to goe. To this god the matrones offred many gifts that their children might not be lame, dwarfes, nor impotent, or decrepite, but that they might be able to goe well. For among the Romanes, those that were criples or dwarfs, were had in such cō tempt, that they could neyther beare office in the Senate, nor be admitted Priests in the Temples.
Hercules in his third Booke, De repub: Hercules de repub: saith, that Cornelia, (that worthy woman and Mother of the Gracchi,) had her two first sonnes, the one Lame, and the other a Dwarfe.
Wherevpon supposing the God Stellinus had beene wrath with her, shee built him a temple, in the twelfth region, neere to the fieldes Gaditanus, amongst the Gardens of Detha: and this temple remained till the time of Randagagismus, who besieging Rome, destroyed the Temples, and brake vp their Gardens and buyldings round about Rome.
They had also an other God, called Adeon, and his charge was, that when the Childe could goe well, hee should goe to his mother, and make much of her. And albeit Cicero in his booke, De natura Deorum, putteth this God Cicero de natura Deorum. amongst the other Gods, yet I do not remember, that I haue euer read that this god had any temple in Rome, till the time of Mammea, mother of the Emperour Antoninus. This excellent woman being left a widowe, and with two little children, desiring that they might be wel and vertuously brought vp, and that they should increase their loue towards her, she built to the god Adeon, a sumptuous temple in the xii. region Vaticanus, neer to the Gardens of Domicilius, and hard adioyning to that also, shee erected one other edifice called Sacellum Mammae, where she abode solitarilie for a time. For the manner and custome at that time was, that all widowes (which would bring vp their Children in good discipline) should immediately seuer themselues farre from the dangerous pleasures of Rome.
The ancients had also an other God called Mentallis, which was in effect god of wit. That is to wit, he had authoritie and power to giue Children good or euill sence. And to this god the ancients did great sacrifices, especially the Greekes, much more then the Romanes. For as much as Seneca saith, that he doth maruell nothing at all of that the Greekes knew: but that which made him most to maruel, was of that they knewe not, since they had the temple of the God Mentallis within their schooles. [Page 29] All the children whom they sent to learne Philosophy, were by the lawes of Athens bound to serue three yeeres in that Temple. And to omit that which Seneca spake of the Greekes, I dare boldly say and affirme (to many which at these dayes are liuing) that if it bee true, he gaue sence and vnderstanding to men, that they would to day, rather then to morrow withdraw themselues to goe into those Temples, and there offer their vowes. For nothing in the World hapneth to men more, then the want of witte and vnderstanding how to gouerne themselues, and liue in quiet.
They had also another God Volunus, and a Goddesse called Voluna, these two had the charge of affiance in Wedlocke, and therefore they were two, because the one should helpe the man, and the other should helpe the woman. The manner vvas such, that during the time of their marriage, each of them vvare the Image of their owne God about theyr necks, & those were of gold or siluer. And after they were married, the Bridegroome gaue vnto his Spouse, the Goddesse Voluna, and the Bride vnto her husband the God Volunus. At such times as the Consuls were created at Rome, and the Kings banished, and before the comming of the Emperours, a litle before the Cornelians moued ciuill commotions in Rome, there was one Consul amongst all these whose name was Balbus. It is sayde he was the first that builded the Temple of Volunus and Voluna. It did stand in the ninth Ward of the City, neere vnto the gate Corinthia, and was called Scripta Balbi. And nigh vnto it was another building called Theatrum Balbi. All the Consuls, Senatours, noble and renowned Barons were married in the Temple, which Balbus built. That night that Pompey the Great married Iulius Caesars daughter, there were some that sayd that Pompey refused to marry her in the Temple of the Gods Volunus, and Voluna, whereupon they diuined straight that the marriage would not endure long betwixt them. As writeth Publius Victor in his third booke De nuptiis Antiquorum. The auncient Pub. Vict. De nuptiis Antiq. Pagans honoured a God called Agrestes, as much to say, as the God of fields and fruites: to him they offered no sacrifice but twice in the yeare that is to say, in Seede time, and in haruest.
The Phrygians (that is the Troians and Cicilians) greatly obserued this God Agrestes, and it was for that in those two Countries, there was gathered such plenty of corne to make bread, that Phrygia was the great garner of Asia, and Trinacria (that was Cicilia) was the Corne house of Europe. They had another God called Belus, which was Patrone of men of warre. For euen as the Christians, when they come to the point to giue battell, make their prayers vnto God: so likewise the Auncients in the same point did kneele downe, and recommend themselues to God Belus.
Liuie declareth, that in all other things which were done, and wherof the Romane Knights were accused in the battell of Cannas against Hannibal, was for that they did not recommend themselues at all to the God Belus, when they should giue battell, saying the Carthagians remained Conquerours, because they a little before honoured the god Mars, and the Romaines were vanquished, for that they offered no Sacrifice to God Belus. When Pirrus, King of the Epirotes (that is of Albany) came into Italy, and that the Romanes were aduertised, hee brought with him many Engines, and subtill inuentions for the war, they decreed to build a Tēple for god Belus within the wals [Page 30] Rome, in the ninth warde neere the gate Carmentalle, and it was named Edes Beloe, in the front whereof was a maruellous sumptuous and stately piller, wherein was grauen the order of battell.
The Gentiles had another God called the God of Victory, to whome the Romanes (more then any other Nation) did sacrifices, to the end they might obtaine victory of their enemies. Of this God Victoria, there was many magnificent Temples in Rome, but the chiefest and the greatest was adioyning to the gate Venia, in the twelfth warde, in the place called Della Victoria. It was built in the yeare of the foundation of Rome, foure hundreth, threescore and seuenteene. And it was for the occasion of the victory, that Appius Claudius, and Quintus Fabius had in Sicill, the first time the Romane people fought against the Africanes, Herones beeing King. Of this warre and victory, rose the cruell, long, and perillous warres betweene Rome and Affricke.
There was another God amongst the Gods, whom the Auncients called Honorius, which had the charge that the Inne-keepers should honor and gently entertaine Pilgrimes and strangers: so that they should bee well handled through the Prouinces and Realmes whereby they passed. And there was a custome in Rome, that euer when any Romane should goe any voyage, his wife immediately should goe to the Temple of God Honorius to doe her sacrifices. In the 15. yeare after that Hannibal passed into Italy, the Romanes knew by a Prophesie, that as soone as they brought the Image of the Goddesse Berecinthia (mother of all the Gods) into Rome: so soone Hannibal should retire out of Italy. And to bring this to passe, the Romanes sent their Ambassadors into Phrygia, which is one part of Asia, to the end they should bring the Goddesse Berecinthia vnto Rome. And because their Ambassadours should goe well and returne safe, and that in comming and going through the Realms, they should entertaine them well, and doe them honour: they built a Temple for the God Honorius within the walles of Rome, in the fourth ward, in a place which they called Forum Transitorium.
CHAP. XII. Of other more naturall and peculiar Gods which the auncient people had.
And because it should not be too tedious a thing to name all Naturall & peculiar Gods. the gods which the Gentiles worshipped, and semblably, in whose time and raigne they honoured the most, and what Realms were more replenished then others: And furthermore, for what causes so many Temples and buildings were ordayned and erected for them: I will make mention onely of these Gods which were called naturall Gods and particular Gods, and declate why the Gentiles honoured them.
And this onely moueth mee to it, because that those which shall see this my writing, may know what a speciall grace God hath giuen to them, which are borne in the time of the Christian Law,
Know you therefore, that the God Esculanus was the God of Mines of gold and siluer. Pecunia was the goddesse of mettalles, and they prayed vnto her, to giue them treasures and riches. Fessoria was the Goddesse of [Page 31] trauellers and Pilgrimes, and they prayed to her, that shee would not suffer them to bee weary that trauelled on foot.
Pelonia was a Goddesse, which had the charge to driue the enemies out of the land.
Esculapius was the God and patrone of sicke men, and if the maladie were great, they called vpon the God Apollo, which was Father to Esculapius. Spinensis was a God whome the Auncients prayed to keepe the corn from thistles and thornes. Rubigo, was a God which kept the vines from wormes, and the corne from Locusts. Fortuna was the Goddesse of good fortune: and to her the auncient wiues of Rome made a Temple in the time of Silla and Marius. Muta was the Goddesse to whom the Auncients prayed, that shee would not suffer their enemies to speak, when they would speake euill of them. Genoria was a Goddesse that had the charge to chase slothfulnes from them, that recommended themselues to her, & the Greekes honoured her, especially the Philosophers, when they entred into study and Vniuersities. Stimula was a Goddesse which hastned thē of their businesse, to the end they should not forget any thing they had to doe. And her Image was at Rome ouer the gate of the Senate house, for she was taken for an Aduocate of the pleaders.
Murcia was a Goddesse, and an Aduocate for men and women which desired not to bee leane or weake of their bodies: and to this Goddesse, the women of Rome offered many gifts, to the end they might bee fat: For in Rome, maydens and women are forsaken because they bee leane and slender, and not for that they be foule and fat,
Busina properly was a Goddesse of the fields, and to her the Ancients offered sacrifice, because she should looke to the grasse that grew in the fieldes. And the Scithians were great worshippers of that Goddesse, because they had no houses in towns, but kept the fieldes euen with theyr flockes, which if they wanted grasse, dyed immediately, and then they were vtterly vndone.
Iugatiuus was he that was called the Cod of the high Mount, and to him the Ancients made a lodge and Altars in the toppe of the highest Mountaines, whereunto they went oftentimes to doe sacrifice, especially when it thundered and lightned.
Vallonia was the Goddesse of the valleyes, and she had the charge to bridle the waters that descended frō the mountaines, to the end they should not endamage the medowes and milles whereby they passed.
Ceres was a goddesse of all Nations honoured, for that shee was a Goddesse of corne, and of other soueraigne seedes: And the Ancients had a custome to offer her a loafe of all the seedes and corne that they sowed. Her Lodges and Altars to doe sacrifice were in the fields, but besides those, shee had a Temple in Rome in the ninth Warde, in the fields of Mars. hard by the gardens of Lucullus, and it is sayde, that out of this Temple came first the fountaine of Scipio.
Segecia was a Goddesse that had the charge to make the seeds to grow after they were sowne. I doe not remember I haue read that shee had any Temple in Rome.
Tutillina was a Goddesse, whose office was to entreat Iupiter not to beate downe the corne with haylestones when it was ready for to bee reapt. And the Auncients painted her in such sort, that it seemed Iupiter did cause it to raine stones, and that this Goddesse Tutillina should [Page 32] gather them all. Shee had a Temple in Rome in the tenth warde, in the Market place of Apollo, neere vnto the house of Romulus. And at euery time when it thundered, immediately the Romanes lighted a great number of Candles in the Temple to appease the goddesse that shee should keepe their corne and seed from hurt.
Flora was the mercifull goddesse of the Vines, that preserued them frō frost. And those of Capua were great worshippers of this Goddesse, for they say that they were the first that planted vines in Italy.
Matura was a Goddesse that had the charge to ripe grapes: and the Auncients vsed a custome, to offer the first grapes which were ripe, in the place where the Goddesse was. And for the more part, euery man that had Vines, made in the field a lodge and an Altar to sacrifice vnto her.
Ruana was a Goddesse and Aduocate for them that gathered the corn and other graines, to the end they should doe no hurt in cutting away the eare, nor should marre the straw and that in cutting, the corne should not shake from the eare. And therefore the Auncients painted her, holding in her right hand a handfull of straw, and the eares were whole.
Forculus was the God of Lockesmithes, and the Auncients sacrificed to him, because he should locke fast the dores, and should not suffer them to bee broken open, nor picked, nor adultered keyes to bee made: The Ancients painted this God, holding a chain in one hand, and two doores in the other: His Image was ouer the Gate of Trigemine, and especially ouer their doores that had enemies.
Limentimen, was God of the hammers of the gates. I could not finde what the intention was to inuent this God, but as I thinke (not for that I haue found it written) they prayed this God, that when there should come any enemy of theirs to the house, that hee should cause thē stumble, and fall before the doore, if perhappes by negligence it were left open.
Fortulus was the God of the gates, and the Ancients did paint him with two gates in his hands, and did sacrifice to him, because no man should open the gates to the enemies when they slept: and to him the Romains did sacrifice in all the gates of Rome, and those which had enemies, would paint him in the gates of their house.
Cardea was a Goddesse of the bars and hinges of the gates, and the cause why the Auncients did sacrifice to her, was that no man should breake the gates, nor lift vp the hinges, and that if they went about to put to their hands, immediately the hinges should make a noyse to awake the Master of the house, that hee might heare it, and know that his enemies were at the gate.
There was another God who was called Siluanus, and was most honored among the Auncients, especially among all the Romanes. This God had the charge to keepe those from perill and misfortune that went for their pleasures and recreation to the Gardens, as Plinie sayth in an Epistle he wrote to Rutilius. The first that Plin. ad Rutil. built a Temple for the God Siluanus, was Mecenas, which was in the time of Augustus. And hee desired aboue all other men, to make feasts and banquets in Gardens. This Temple was in the eleuenth Warde, in the field of the Goddesse Venus, neare vnto the house of Murcea, which was destroyed in the time of the Emperour Antoninus Pius, through an Earthquake, whereby many buildings and houses fell [Page 33] in Rome.
Iugatiuus was the God of marriages, who had charge to make the loue which begunne in youth, to endure till the olde age.
It was wonderful to see how the women newly married went on pilgrimage for Deuotion vnto this God, and what gifts and presents they offered in his Temple. Suetonius Tranquillus sayeth, that there was a Temple of this God, but I finde not in writing by whom it was built, saying that Helius Spartanus sayeth, that the Emperour Heliogabalus found much riches in the Temple of Iugatibus, the which hee tooke away to maintaine his wars.
Bacchus was the God of drunkards, and the custome in Rome was, that only mad men and fooles celebrated the feast of this God, and if there were found any of wit and vnderstanding (were it neuer so little) they thrust him forthwith out of the Temple, and sought in his steade another drunkard. The Temple of Bacchus was in the 10. Warde, in the meadowes which they call Bacchanales, without the City, in the way of Salaria, by the Altars of the goddesse Februa, and it was built by the Gaules when they besieged Rome in the time of Camillus. Februa was a Goddesse for the feuers, and they vsed in Rome when any was taken with the feauer, immediately to send some sacrifice vnto her.
This Goddesse had no Temple at all, but her Image was in Pantheon, which was a Temple, wherein all the Gods were, and in this place they sacrificed vnto her.
Pauor was the God of feare, who had the charge to take feare from the Romanes hearts, and to giue them stoute courage against their enemies.
The Temple of this God Pauor was in Rome, in the sixth Ward-, in the place of Mamuria, neare to the olde Capitoll: and euer when they had any enemies, the Romaines forth with offered in this place sacrifices, and there was in the same Temple a statue of Scipio the Affricane, all of siluer, which hee offered there, when hee triumphed ouer the Carthagenians.
Meretrix was the Goddesse of dishonest women, and as Publius Victor sayeth, There was in Rome, forty streetes of common women, In the middest whereof the Temple of this Meretrix was.
It chanced in the time of Ancus Martius (the fourth King of the seuen Romane Kinges) that there was in Rome a Curtezan, Natiue of Laurento, which was so fayre, that with her body shee gained great riches, wher of shee made all the Romane people partakers. Wherefore in the memory of her the Romanes built there a temple, and made her Goddesse of all the common women in Rome.
Cloatina was Goddesse of the stoole, and to this Goddesse all those commended themselues which were troubled with the Collycke, to the ende shee would helpe them to purge their bellies.
Quies was the Goddesse of rest, and to her the Romanes did offer great Sacrifices, because that she should giue them pleasure and rest, especially on that day, when there was any triumph or solemnitie in Rome, they gaue in this Temple many gistes, because shee should preserue the glory and ioy of the triumphes.
Numa Pompilius second King of the Romaines, built the Temple of this Goddesse, and it was without the City, for to note that during the life of man in this world, hee could neyther haue pleasure nor rest. [Page 34] Theatrica was a Goddesse, which had the charge to keepe the Theaters and Stages, when the Romanes celebrated their Playes: and the occasion of inuenting of this Goddesse was, because when the Romaines would set foorth theyr Tragedyes, they made so solemne Theaters, that there might well stand twentie thousand men aboue, and as manie vnderneath, for to behold the spectacle. And sometime it hapned, that for the great weight of them aboue, the wood of the Theaters and Stages brake, and killed all those which were vnderneath: and so after this sort all their pastime turned into sorrow.
The Romanes (which vvere prouided in all things) agreed to doe Sacrifice vnto the Goddesse Theatrica: to the ende shee should preserue them, from the dangers of the Theaters, and built her a Temple in the ninth ward, in the market-place of Cornelia: neere to the House of Fabij.
Domitian the twelfth Emperour of Rome, destroyed this Temple, because in his presence one of the Theaters brake, and killed manie people. And for that the Goddesse Theatrica had not better preserued them: hee made this Temple to be beaten down.
Peraduenture those that haue read little, shall finde these things now ynough: but let them reade Cicero in his booke De Natura Deorum: Ihon Bocchas of the Genealogie of Gods, Cic: de na tu. Deorum. and Pulio, of the Auncients Gods: And Saint Augustine in the first, the eleuenth, and the eighteenth booke of Citie of God: and they shall finde a great number more, then is heere spoken of.
CHAP. XIII. ¶ How Tiberius the Knight was chosen Gouernour of the Empyre, and afterwards created Emperour, onely for being a good Christian. And how GOD depriued Iustinian the younger, both of his Empyre and Senses, for beeing an Heretique.
THe fiftie Emperour of Rome, was Tiberius Constantinus: who succeeded Iustinian the younger, which was a cruell Emperour. And Paulus Dyaconus sayeth, That hee was an enemie to the poore, a Thiefe to the Rich, a great louer of riches, and an enemie to himselfe in spending them.
For, the propertie of a couetous man, is to liue like a Beggar all the dayes of his life, and to be found rich at the houre of his death.
This Iustinian was so exceeding couetous, that hee commaunced strong coffers and chests of yron to be made and brought into his Pallace, to keepe in safety the euil-gotten treasures that he had robbed. And of this you ought not to maruell: for Seneca saith, That couetous Princes do not only suspect their Subiects, but also themselues.
In those daies the Church was greatly defiled by the heresie of the Pelagians, and the maintayner of that Sect, was this wicked Prince Iustinian: So that for himselfe hee procured riches, and for the Diuel he cheapned soules. For, those that are once forsaken of the hand of GOD, doe not onely become Couetousnes the root of all euill. seruaunts of the Deuills, but also labour to bring others to Hell.
Wherefore sithence the sinnes of men are diuers, and the judgements of GOD kept secrete, and yet the liuing [Page 35] God is, so mercifull, that notwithstanding his mercy would saue the soules, he will also with iustice chastice the bodies. And therefore seing the obstinacy of this Emperour to bee such, that the longer he liued, the more hee augmented his damnation, the wrath of God lighted vpon him, & suddenly without any grudge The iust iudgement of God. or token of sicknesse, this Emperour Iustinian was bereued of his sences, and became a foole, and because the matter was so sodaine, it caused in Rome great feare and admiration, for that the Prince was a foole, and all the Empire chaunged. And indeed this Emperour was so strucken, that his life and folly ended both in one day. For the diseases which God sendeth to Princes, commeth not through fault of humours, but through the corruption of manners. Also there is no medicine that can resist it, not yet any other thing that can remedy it. The people perceyuing how the Emperour through his sinnes was (according to the diuine pleasure) become a foole, agreede (sith there was no remedie for his disease) to choose some good person, to whom the charge of the publike weale might be giuen: for truely a man needeth great patience and wisdome to gouerne an other mans, thē for that which is his own proper. The lot befell to a Knight, Tiberius so called, a man for truth, both chast, iust, profitable, sage, vertuous, hardy, mercifull, charitable, in feates of armes aduenturous, and aboue all a good Christian.
And let not this thing bee little regarded, that the Prince be a good Christian: For there is no state so happy as that which is gouerned by a Prince of a good and faithfull conscience, and because hee wanted no vertues to adorne a Prince, hee was both feared of many, and beloued of all. Which thing ought not lightly to bee esteemed; for it is the chiefest thing that belongeth to Princes, that is to say, for their gentle conuersation to bee beloued, and for their vpright Iustice to be feared. This Emperour Iustinian had a wife, whose name was Sophia Augusta, which was beautifull and sage, and as touching her person of good renowne sufficient. For women must take great respect, lest they giue strā gers occasion to speake of them, but Good counsell for women. notwithstanding all these things, this Dame was noted of couetousnesse: for shee toyled alwayes to hoarde vp money, and delighted to see and tell it, but to spend or giue it, was alwaies her greatest griefe: For couetous persons little regard to shorten their life, so that they may augment their riches.
Tiberius Constantine, as Gouernour of the Empire (seeing the Empresse Sophia Augusta rich, and desiring more the profite of the Commonwealth, then the enrichment of himselfe or of any other) did nothing else but build Monasteries, repaire Hospitals, marry Orphanes, and redeeme Captiues. For speaking according to the Christian lawes, because Difference betweene a good Prince & a Tyrant. that a man hath more then nenessary, ought to bee employed to the vse of the poore, and to works of mercy.
Finally, this vertuous Prince did that which Christian Princes should doe, and not as tyrants doe, which made him of great excellency. For the property of a Tyrant is to heape great treasures of other mens goods, and afterward to spend and consume them viciously: but Tiberius found them gathered together by one, and hee dispersed them to many. Sophia Augusta, seeing Iustinian become a foole, & not knowing how to gette more money of the people, nor how [Page 36] to robbe the rich, and that Tiberius spent her riches without compassion, partly to satisfie her sorrowfull heart, and partly to see, if in time to come, shee could remedy it, called one day Tiberius a part, and spake vnto him these words in secret.
CHAP. XIIII. Of the words the Empresse Sophia spake vnto Tiberius Constantinus then being gouernour of the Empire, which onely tended to reproue him for that hee lauishly consumed the Treasure of the Empire gotten by her.
THou remembrest well Tiberius, that thogh The speech of Sophia vnto Tiberius. thou art now after Iustinian Gouernor of the Empire: yet when thou wast in Alexandrie, thou thoughtest very little to deserue it, and if thou diddest, thou thoughtest thou couldest not attaine vnto it. For thou art a wise man, and the sage man (according to the little or much which fortune giueth him) doth not raigne or slacke alwayes the bridle of his thoughts. Those which haue a vaine hope, and thorow power only will inforce fortune to bee fauourable vnto them, shall liue alwayes a troubles me life.
For there is nothing that shortneth more the life of man then vain hope and idle thoughts. Thou beeing such a man as thou art, and so well willed and beloued of Iustinian my husband, art demaunded of the Romane people, and chosen by the Senate, receyued by the Souldiers, and all the Empire reioyce at thy election.
And thou oughtest not a little to regard it. For the willes of all doe not alwayes fauour one. I let thee to vnderstand Tiberius, that it did not displease mee thou shouldest bee Emperour of Rome, sith Iustinian was deposed, and if I had perceyued that which I doe perceyue, or had knowne that which I doe know, I am certaine that I had neyther sayde with it, nor against it. For wee women are of so little credite, that it preuayleth vs more To approue the least of that which other say, then it doth to speake very well of our selues. Sith Fortune hath brought thee to so high an estate, I beseech thee, admonish thee, & aduise thee, that thou know how to keepe and gouerne thy selfe therein. For to arise to honour, It sufficeth the body to sweate water, but to maintaine it, it is necessary that the heart weepe bloud.
Thou knowest right well, that to commaund more, to doe more, and to haue more then other (as touching the affayres of Princes) oftentimes is giuen more thorow worldly care, then for the desert of the person. And this God suffereth very often, to the end wee may see those discend, and fall thorow infamy, whom we saw mount and prosper by pride. Thou art a man, and I a woman: Thou hast wisdome and knowledge, but I haue large and long experience, and if thou knowest much, I haue seene in the world enough, but in faith for that I haue said I tell thee, that men of thy sort are vndone in the Pallace of Princes, by two wayes. The one, if they thinke they deserue much, and they can doe little. For haughty minds bring alwayes alteration in the heart, The other is, that one alone will command the Emperour and the Empire, whereunto if any man come, it is by great trauell, and hee shall sustaine it with danger, and shall possesse it but a short time. For it is impossible that to a man of much arrogancy, Fortune should bee too long faithfull.
Though thou be wise and sage, I [Page 37] counsell thee alwayes to profite with another mans counsell, chiefly in things concerning the gouernement of the estate. For to know how to obey, and to know how to commaund, differ much.
For to know how to obey, commeth by nature: but to know how to command, commeth by long experience, Take this of me for a generall rule, that whereas thou seest thy Prayer to be acceptable, neuer take vpon thee commaundement: for by commandement thou shalt bee feared, and by prayer thou shalt be beloued: know thou Tiberius, the things that content them worst, which are in the Courts of Princes: are to doe little, to haue little, and to be little worth. For the man that is without fauour, in his heart, is halfe dead. For the contrarie, the thing which most perilleth the Fauorites of Princes, and maketh them loose theyr Friendship, is to bee of great power, and great in Authoritie, and moreouer then this, to profite more of will then knowledge, of authoritie then of reason. For a man cannot liue long in Friendship, which doth what he will, in the commonwealth.
I haue spoken all this, to the ende thou shouldest knowe that I greatly maruell at thy prudence, and haue no lesse wonder of my patience. To see that the Treasours which Iustinian heaped together by great trauell, kept and preserued with great care, thou wastest without respect what thou doest.
Wherefore doe not maruell at this; For there is no patience can suffer to see the proper goods wasted and spent by the handes of an other, which with so great care hath bene gathered together.
I let thee to know Tiberius, that now wee haue neyther Money to keepe, nor to giue to others: which thing is very perillous for the Pallaces of Princes. For the same to haue great store of Treasurs, occasioneth Princes to keep their enemies in feare.
It is necessary for Princes to be stoute and also rich, for by their stoutnes they may gouerne their owne, and by their riches, they way represse theyr enemyes. It is not onely necessarie that the Prince bee not poore, but also it is requisite that his Common-wealth be rich. For where people are poore, of theyr Enemyes they are nothing regarded. And where the Common-wealth is rich, the Prince cannot be greatly poore. I will not denie but that it is well done to helpe the poore, and succour the needy: But yet I say, that no man ought to giue the Treasour vnto any one in particular, which is and hath been long kept in store, for the preseruation of all. For oftentimes the Prince which is too liberall in giuing of his owne, is afterwards (through necessitie,) compelled [...]o become a Tyrant, and so to take from others.
I let thee know Tyberius, that thou shalt finde few Princes, but are eyther prowd, malignant, or vicious. For of a truth, Wantonnes, Libertie, Youth, and Riches, are commonly most cruell enemyes to honestie.
Notwithstanding, I will not say that all Princes haue beene euill, but I will say (according to the old prouerbe) that there hath been too few good: And that those which of Gods mercifull gift, eyther are or will be good and vertuous, ought to be greatly honoured. For no time ought to be called happy, but that wherein vertuous Princes doe raigne.
And furthermore I say to thee Tiberius, if Princes become Tyrants for want of Riches, so doe they become vicious, through aboundance of Treasures: And in this case vicious Princes are chastened in the same vice. For Auarice hath such power ouer them, that it suffereth them not to taste theyr owne delight.
Againe, I let thee know Tiberius, that there are many Princes which are of good nature, & yet becom Tyrants, for nothing else but because they be oppressed with pouertie. For truely the Noble heart resuseth no danger, seeing himselfe assaulted with pouertie.
[Page 38] Therefore I demaund of thee which is better, or otherwise which of these two euils is least: that the Prince bee poore, and with that a Tyrant, or that he be rich, and therewith vicious.
In mine opinion it were much better to be rich and vicious, then a Tyrant and poore, for in the end if he do euill by vice, hee should bee euill vnto no man but to himselfe: by riches he should profite all the people. And if he be poore and a Tyrant, hee should doe great euill to many, and by pouerty hee could profit no man. For the poore Prince cannot maintaine the rich, and much lesse succour the poore, without comparison it is much more profitable to the Commonwealth, and more tollerable to men, that the Prince bee an euill man, and therewithall a good Prince: then an euil Prince, and therewithall a good man. For as Plato sayeth, The Athenians would alwayes rather seeke a profitable then a stout Prince: and the Lacedemonians did erre, in willing rather a stoute Prince then profitable.
Therefore see Tiberius, it is more sure and profitable for the Common wealth, that Princes haue Treasures to giue liberally among their seruants, then that they should bee poore and enforced to oppresse the people with taxes and Subsidies. For Princes oft times through pouerty take occasion to leuy great Subsidies in their realmes & seigniories.
CHAP. XV. The answer of Tiberius vnto the Empresse Sophia Augusta, Wherein hee declareth that noble Princes need not boarde vp great treasures: And of the hidden treasure this good Emperour found by Reuelation, in the Pallace where he remained.
TIberius heard very patiently the admonition of the Empresse, wherefore with great reuerēce hee aunswered, and with sweet and gentle words hee spake to her in this sort.
I haue heard and vnderstood what you Tiberius answere. haue tolde mee, most noble Princesse Sophia, and alwayes Augusta, and doe receyue your, gentle admonitions, most humbly thanking you for your louing counsell, which principally you giue me in so high a stile. For oftentimes sicke men abhorre not meates, not for that the meates are not good, but because they are not well dressed. If it were Gods pleasure, I would I knew aswell how to doe these things, as you know how to speake them.
And doe not maruell, though I make hereof a doubt; for wee greatly desire to prayse vertuous workes, but to put them in practise, wee are very slow. Speaking therefore with such reuerence, (as is due vnto so high a Lady) to euery one of these thinges which your Excellency hath tolde mee, I will aunswere in one word. For it is reason sith you haue spoken that which you perceiue of my deedes, that I speake that which I gather of your wordes. You tell me that when I was in Alexandrie, I thought not to bee Gouernour of the [Page 39] Empire after Iustinian, & that I thoght not my selfe worthy to deserue it, nor yet looked to come vnto it.
To this I answere, that though by reason I gouerned my selfe at that time, yet I ought not to thinke to deserue such a dignitie, nor to come to so high an estate. For those which by vertues deserue great Dignities are but fewe: and sewer are those which attaine vnto them, though they deserue them, But if this matter be iudged according to sensualitie, I tell you truely (Dame Augusta,) that I thought not onely to deserue it, but also I thought to come vnto it. And hereof maruell not, for it is an infallible rule; Where least desert is, often-times there is most presumption.
You say you esteemed mee for a wise man, and that by wisedome I could ouer-come any difficult, or disordinate appetite.
To this I answere, that you knewe my wisedome, either in mine owne busines, or else in other mens affaires. If in other mens affaires, (where it did cost mee nought) I was alwayes a louer of iustice, For there is no man in the world so euill, that doth not desire (if it bee without his owne cost) to be counted liberall. But if you iudge mee (Dame Augusta,) on mine owne businesse, giue not too light credit. For I will that you know, there is no man so iust, nor of so cleare a iudgement, that doth not shewe himselfe fraile The frailtie of man. in matters which touch his owne interest.
You say that men which haue their thoughts high, and their Fortunes base, liue alwayes a pensiue life.
Truely it is as you say, But in mine opinion, as the members of the bodyes are but instruments of the minde, so is it necessary for men to haue quicke and sharpe wittes, if they will not be negligent. For if Alexander, Pyrrhus, Iulius Caesar, Scipio, and Hanniball, had not beene high minded, they had neuer bene (as they were) so Famous, Noble, and stoute Princes.
I let you vnderstand, most Noble Princesse, that men are not to be esteemed as lost, for hauing theyr thoughtes high, nor yet for hauing their hearts couragious, neither for being hardie and stout: but they are vndone, because they beginne things through folly, pursue them without wisedome, and atchieue them without discretion.
For, Noblemen enterprising great things, ought not to employ theyr force as their noble heart willeth, but as wisedome and reason teacheth. You say, you maruell why I waste the Treasures without care, which Iustinian and you gathered together with great paine?
Now to this I answere, you ought not to maruell, if all the Treasours you heaped together of so long time, were spent and consumed in one day. For there is an ancient Malediction on riches hidden, and The saying of Epimenides. Treasours buryed, which Epimenides casteth out, saying these words: All the Treasours hoorded vp by the Couetous, shall bee wasted by the Prodigall.
You say, Through that I wast in fewe dayes, you shall haue neither to giue, to waste, nor yet to eate at the yeares ende.
To this I answere (most gracious Princesse, that if you had beene as ready to relieue the Poore, as you and Iustinian were diligent to robbe the rich, then you should iustly haue complained, and I worthily might well haue had iust cause to repent.
Till now wee haue not seene, but that of the Rich you haue made Poore: and notwithstanding this, yet you haue not gotten enough to builde an Hospitall for the Poore. You say that Princes, to resist theyr enemyes had neede of great Treasures.
To this I answer, if Princes be proud, greedy, and of strange Realmes, ambicious it is most certaine, that they had need of great substances and Treasours to accomplish and maintaine theyr disordinate [Page 40] appetties. For the enae of a tyran nous Princ [...]s, that he careth not whether by hooke or by crooke hee make himselfe rich in his life.
But if the Prince be or will be a man reposed, quiet, vertuou, patient peaceable, and [...] couetous of the goods of an other man, what need hath he of great treasurs?
For to speake truly, in Princes houses there is more offence in that which aduaunceth, then in that which wanteth. I will not waste many wordes in answering, sith I am much more liberal of deeds then of wordes: But to conclude, that there is no Prince which in vertuous deedes wasteth so much, but if hee will, hee may spend much more. For in the [...]. ende, Princes become not poore, for spending their goods and Treasours vpon necessaries: but for making waste vpon things superfluous.
And take this word for all, that for this hee shall not be the poorer, but rather the richer. For most certainely, it is a generall rule in Christian Religion, that God will giue more to his Seruants in one houre, then they will waste in 20. yeares: Iustinian beeing Emperour 11, yeares, who (being a Foole, and very obstinate in the heresie of the Pelagians) dyed to the great offence of the Romaine people; whose death was as much desired, as his life abhorred.
For the Tyrannous Prince, that maketh many weeping eyes in his life, shall cause many reioycing bearts at his death.
Iustinian being dead, Tiberius was elected Emperour, who gouerned the Empire, through so great wisedome and Iustice, that no man was able to reproue him, if the Hystories in his time, did not deceyue vs. For it seldome happeneth to a Prince to be as he was, vpright in Iustice, pure in life, and cleane in Conscience. For fewe are those Princes which of some vices are not noted.
Paulus Diaconus in his 18. booke of the Romaine Gests, declareth a thing both strange and maruellous, which besel vnto this Emperour at that time, and very worthie to recite at this present. And it was, that in the Cittie of Constantinople, the Romaine Emperours had a Pallace very sumptuous, and beseming the authoritie of the Imperiall maiestie, which was begun in the time of Constantine the Great, and afterwardes, as the succession of good and euil Emperors was, so were the Buyldings decayed or repayred.
For it is the deede of a vertuous Prince, to abolish vices of the Common-wealth, and to make great and sumptuous buildings in his countrey.
This Emperour Tiberius had spent The memorable deedes of Tiberius. much of his substance and Treasour, for the redeeming of poore captiues, to build Hospitals, to erect Monasteries, to marry and prouide for the Orphares, to sucour poore people, and widdowes; In this and such like, hee was so prodigall, that it came almost to passe, that hee had nothing to eate in his Pallace, And truely this was a blessed necessity. For Catholike Princes ought to think that wel imployed, which in the Seruice of Christ is bestowed. And hereof this Emperour was not ashamed, but he thought it a great honour, and that which onely grieued him was, to see the Empresse reioyce so much at his misery. For the High and Noble hearts which feele themselnes wounded, do not so much esteeme their owne payne, as they do to see their enemyes reioyce at theyr griefe. God neuer forsooke them that for his sake became poore, as appeareth by this.
It chanced one day that euen as the Emperor Tiberius walked in the middest of his Pallace, he saw at his feete a Marble-stone, which was in forme of the Crosse of the Redeemer of the world. And because it had bin too vniust a thing (as hee thought,) to haue spurned it with his feet, wherewith we [Page 41] trust from our enemies to bee desended: he caused the stone to bee taken vp, not thinking any thing to bee there vnder, and immediately after they found another, wherein likewise Treasure. found by Tiberius. was the forme of the Crosse, and this beeing taken vp, they found an other in like manner, and when that was pluckt vp from the bottome. there was found a Treasure, which contained the summe of two millions of Duckets; for the which the good Emperour Tiberius gaue vnto Almighty God most high thankes, and whereas before hee was liberall, yet afterwards hee was much more bountifull. For all those treasures hee distributed amongst the poore & needy people. Let therefore mightie Princes and great Lords, see, reade, & profite by this example, and let them thinke themselues assured, that for giuing A good Lesson. almes to the poore, they need not feare to become poore: for in the end the vicious man cannot call himselfe rich, nor the vertuous man cannot count himselfe poore.
CHAP. XVI. How the Chiefetaine Narsetes ouercame many battailes, onely for that his whole confidence was in God. And what hapned to him by the Empresse Sophia Augusta: wherein may be noted the vnthankefulnesse of Princes towards their seruants.
IN the yeare of the Incarnation of Christ, 528. Iustinian the Great, being Emperour, who Paul: Diacon: Lib: 18. de gestis Roman. was the sonne of Iustines sister his Predecessor in the Empire) the Histories say, in especially Paulus Diaconus in the 18. booke De gestis Romanorum: that there was a Knight of Greece in Rome, who from his tender yeares had bene brought vp in Italie. Hee was a man of meane stature, of a cholericke complexion, and in the law of Christ very deuout: which was no small thing. For at that time not onely many knights, but almost all the Bishops of Italie were Arrians.
This Knights name was Narsetes, and because he was so valiant in arms, and so aduenturous in warres, he was chosen Chieftaine generall of the Romane Empire. For the Romanes had this excellencie, that when they had a valiant and stout Captaine (although they might haue his weight of golde giuen them) they would neuer depart from his person. Hee enterprised so great things, he ouercame such mightie Realms, and had such notable victories ouer his enemyes, that the Romanes said, he had in him the strength of Hercules, the hardinesse of Hector, the noblenes of Alexander, the pollicie of Pyrrhus, and the fortune of Scipio. For manie of the vaine Gentiles held opinion, that as the bodyes did distribute their goods in the life, so did the soules part theyr gifts, after the death.
This Narsetes was a pittifull Captain, and very constant in the Faith of Christ, liberall to giue almes, effectuous to build newe Monasteryes, and in repairing Churches, a man very carefull. And truly it was a rare thing: For in great warres (vpon smal occasions) Captains vse to beat down churches: & that which was greatest of all was, that he feared God deuoutly, visited The false opinion of the Gentils. the Hospitals, said his deuotions with penitent teares, and aboue all, be resorted very often to the Churches in the night.
And this excellencie was no lesse then the other. For the Captaines in such an houre are readier to kill men in their Campe, then to bewaile their sinnes in the Church.
[Page 42] Finally, hee was a Christian, and [...]. so deuoure, that God gaue him the victories more through the prayers which hee vsed, then through the weapons wherewith hee fought. For there was neuer man that saw him shed the bloud of his enemies in battell before he had shed the teares of his eyes in the Temple. And to the end Christian Princes and Captaines may see how much better it is to pacific God by teares and prayers, then to haue their Campe full of souldiers and riches: of many of his doings I will declare part as heere followeth.
Iustinian the Emperour beeing in Alexandrie, Totila King of the Gothes, did many mischiefes, and great dammages throughout all Italy, so that the Romaines durst not goe by the way, nor could bee in safeguarde in their houses. For the Gothes in the The outrages of the Gothes. day kept the wayes, and in the night robbed and spoyled all the people, wherefore Iustinian the Emperour, not knowing the matter, sent the noble Narsetes Captaine Generall against the Gothes, who being arriued in Italy, immediately confedered with the Lumbardes, the which at that time had their mansion in Hungarie, and sent his messengers to King Albonius, (at that time their King) for ayde against the Gothes and in so doing, hee sayde hee should see how faithfull a friend hee would be to his friends, and how cruell an enemie to his enemies.
Albonius hearing the message of Narsetes was very glad, and without delay armed a great and puissant Army, which by the Adriatical sea came into Italy: so that the aunswere and the offer came both at one time with effect, and so together arriued in one day (for the succour of Narsetes) the two Armies that is to say, that of the Romanes, and of the Lumbardes, the which assembled all in one, and marched vnder the banner of their Captaine Narsetes. Wherefore Totila King of the Gothes beeing aduertised, (as one that had not proued the happy fortune of Narsetes, nor the force of the Lumbardes) sent to offer them the battell, which was giuen in the fields of Aquileia, and it was of both parts so fierce and cruell, that infinite were they that dyed: but in the end Totilla King of the Gothes was ouercome, and neyther hee, nor any of his hoast escaped aliue.
The good Captaine Narsetes, after the battell gaue many and noble gifts to the Lumbardes, and so with riches and victory they returned into Hungarie towards their King Albonius. And truly this Narsetes did as he was bound to doe, For the friend A worthy saying approned by Narsetes. cannot bee recompenced by riches, when for his friend he putteth his life in ieopardy.
When the Lumbards were gone, Narsetes caused all the spoile of his Campe to bee deuided amongst his souldiers, and that which belonged vnto him, he gaue it wholly to the poore Monasteries: so that by this victory Narsetes got triple renown, that is to say, very bountifull, in that hee gaue to the Lumbardes, charitable, in that hee gaue to the poore, and valiant in that he vanquished so puissant enemies.
Dagobert King of France beyond the Alpes, being a couragious young Prince, and very desirous of honour, (for no other cause but to leaue of him some memory) determined himselfe in person to passe into Italy, although hee had no iust title thereunto. For the hearts puffed vp with pride little passe though they war of an vniust quarrell. His mishap was such, that the same day he passed the riuer of Rubico, where the Romanes [Page 43] in old time limited the marches of Italy, newes came to him that his own country was vp, and those which were there, one rebelled against the other, that which was not without the great permission of God. For it is but reason that that King should lose his own Realm by diuine iustice, which will take other mens only through mans folly. The King Dagobert assembling all the chiefest of his Realme to counsell, it was agreede and concluded by all, that hee alone in person should returne into France, and for his reputation should leaue al the Army in Italy. Whereof remayned captains, Buccelinus and Amingus. For itis better for a Prince to defend his Country by iustice, then to conquer another by tyranny. As this Army of Buccelinas was great, so was he couragious and wrought mapy and great dammages in Italy, especially in the land of Campagnia. And worse then that, al the riches that hee had sacked, and al the captiues he had taken, hee would neyther restore, nor yet suffer them Buccelinus did many outrages in Italy. to be ransomed: but so soone as hee tooke them, he sent them vnto the King, as one that shewed himselfe more desirous to rob and spoile, then to fight and wage battell.
This Captaine Buccelinus then being in Campagnia, retired into a place called Tarentum with all his army because of winter.
Narsetes suddenly came vpon him, & gaue him battell, that was between them very cruell, wherein Buccelinus was vanquished, and left dead in the field amongst the other Captaines of Gaule. Which newes brought to Amingus eares beeing the other Captaine of the Gaules, and seeing his companion dead, hee confedered with Auidinus Captaine of the Gothes, and they together came against the Romaines, which thing was not vnknowne to Narsetes, to giue the battel neer to Caietto, wheras those Captains were conquered, and taken aliue. Of whom Amingus was beheaded by the commandement of Narsetes: & Auidinus was sent by him prisoner to the Emperour of Constantinople. The Captaine Narsetes wan another battell against Syndual King of Britons, which came into Italy with a huge multitude of people, to recouer the realme of Partinopilis, which now we call Naples: for he said it appertained vnto him of right, as to one of the lynage of Hercules, who in ancient time was King of that Realme. This King Sindual within a time became friend vnto Narsetes, and behaued himselfe outwardly as a friend and confederate: but in secret conspired against the Romaines, and would haue beene King of the Romanes, and raigned alone in Italy, through the which there sprang betweene him and Narsetes cruell wars, wherein Fortune was a long time variable: For there is not The inconstancy of Fortune. so aduenturous a Captaine, to whom in long warres Fortune is alwayes prosperous.
Finally, the King Sinduall and Narsetes agreed to hazard their men, and also their liues in one day vnto the disctetion of Fortune, so that both the armies ioined together, and fought betweene Verona and Terento, where King Sindual was conquered, and taken aliue, and the same day with out any delay was hanged openly, And because that Narsetes was not acustomed to vse such cruelty against those that were ouercome, and especially against Kinges and worthy Knights, he commanded his title to bee set on the gibbet, whereon the King hanged, which said this:
[Page 44] Such and many other battels and victories had this aduenturous and good Captaine, not onely in the borders of Italy, but also in Asia, where for many yeares hee had the gouernment of the Country. And as hee was a good Christian, so Almighty God in all his affayres did prosper him.
After all these warres past, Iustinian the yonger sent him to the kingdome of Constantinople to bee chiefe Gouernour of all those Prouinces, & although hee did well in warlike affayres: yet hee did much better in the administration of the commonwealth: For men that are accustomed to trauell in wars, haue a good learning how to gouerne the people in peace. For this occasion (amongst all mortall men) Narsetes was praysed and esteemed, that is, for his valiantnesse in the battells which hee ouercame, for his riches through the spoyles that hee tooke, and for the iustice he ministred to all men where he ruled. Narsetes because hee was a Grecian borne, was enuied of the Romanes, & chiefly, because hee dayly encreased both his honour and riches. For truly, vertue, honour and riches in a man are but a brand to light enuie to all the world. And this was the occasion.
One day there came many noble Romaines to the Emperour Iustinian, and to the Empresse Sophia Augusta, Ennie a foe to all vertue. to complaine of Narsetes, and of his behauiour and gouerning, and sayde these wordes vnto him. wee let you know, most noble Prince, and Soueraigne Lady, that wee had rather (of the two) to serue the Gothes, then to obey the Greekes: and wee speake this, because that the Eunuch commaunded vs more to his owne seruice, then hee doth to that of yours, and the worst is, that you know it not, and if you know it, at the least you doe not remedie it, Chuse therefore one of these two things, whether you wil deliuer vs from the gouernment of the Greeke, or suffer that wee put Rome and our selues into the hands of the Gothes: For it is lesse griefe for the Romaines to be subiect to a puissant King, then to an effeminate Eunuch and tyrant.
Narsetes being present, hearing Narsetes reply. those quarrels (as they say) said thus: O noble Prince, if I haue committed any euill, it is vnpossible for mee to finde one that will doe mee good: but if I haue done well, no man shall be able to do me wrong.
The Empresse Sophia of long time before had hated Narsetes: som sayde it was because he was an Eunuch, other thinke it was because he was rich, and some other iudge, because hee was in greater authority in the Empire then shee. Wherefore perceyuing shee had good occasion and opportunity for the same, shee spake a word much to his reproach: which was this. Sith thou art an Eunuch, Narsetes, and not a man, it is not fitte for thee to haue a mans office, therfore The seuere sentence of the Empresse. I commaund thee to worke with my handmaides, and there thou shalt serue to spin and weaue clothes.
Narsetes tooke this word heauily, and truely it was with great spight spoken. Wherefore he stoutly and couragiously spake vnto the Empresse Sophia these wordes, and sayde: I had rather most exccellent Princesse, thou hadst chastised me as a Noble Dame, then to haue reproued mee with a word, as a simple woman: but since it is so that you haue liberty and authority to commaund mee, know you also that I haue the selfe same to obey you, and therefore I take my leaue, and now I goe to weaue my webbe, which perhappes your selfe whilest you liue, shal neuer vntwine.
Narsetes immediately went his way, and came into Itaty, vnto the [Page 45] City of Naples, (chiefe and head of Campagnia) and from thence he dispatched his Ambassadours immediately to the King of Hungarie, where the Lumbards at that time had theyr mantion place, counselling them to forsake that land, so euil tilled, so barren, cold and little, and that they should come and enhabite Italy, which was a plaine Country, fertile and ample, temperate and very rich, and that now or neuer they should conquer it. And Narsetes therewith not contented, (but to prouoke his friends the more, and make them the more couetous) sent them part of euery good thing that was in Italy, that is to say, light horses, rich armour, sweet, pleasant and daintie fruites, fine mettals, and may kindes of ointments very odoriserous, silkes, and Marchandises of many and diuers sorts.
The Ambassadors arriued in Pannony, which now is called Hungarie, were honourably receyued, and the Lumbardes seeing that there were such, and so many goodly things in Italy, determined to leaue Pannonia, and goe spoyle and conquer Italy, although it belonged to Rome, and were at that season friends with the Romanes: yet notwithstanding they had little respect to this. And hereat no man ought to maruell, for in that place there is neuer perfect friendship, where he that commandeth is constrayned to demaund helpe of others.
The Lumbards determined for to passe into Italy, and at that time there was seene of the Italians visibly in the ayre sundry Armies of fire, that one cruellie killed the other. Which thing greatly feared the hearts of the people. For by this they knew that Strange sights seene in the ayre. within a short space much of theyr bloud & of their enemies also should be shed: for it is an olde ancient custome, that when any great matter doth chance to any Realme, first the Planets and Elements do declare the same by secret tokens: the ingratitude of the Emperour Iustinian against Narsetes his Captaine, and the euill The ingratitude of the Emperour against Narsetes. words which Sophia spake vnto him, were the occasion that the Lumhards inuaded and destroied all Italy, which thing valiant Princes ought well to note, to keepe themselues from ingratitude towards their seruants, who hath done them great seruice. For it is a generall rule, That the ingratitude of a great benefite maketh the seruants despayre of recempence, or of a faithfull jeruant, maketh him become a A good obseruation. cruell and mortall enemie. And let not Princes trust men, because they bee natiue of their realms, brought vp & nourished in their Pallaces, and alwayes haue been faithfull in their seruices, that therefore they will not of good subiects be turned to euill, nor yet of faithfull become disloyall. For such imagination is vaine. For the Prince that in his doings is vnthankfull, cannot keepe nor retaine any honest man long in his seruice. One thing the noble Iustintan did with Narsetes, whereof all noble and sage Princes ought to beware, that is to know, hee did not onely giue eare vnto his enemies, and beleeued them: but also before them he did dishonour him, and shame him to his power, which thing made him vtterly to despayre. For there is nothing that spiteth a man more then to haue before his enemies any iniury or dishonour done vnto him of his superiour.
The Empresse Sophia therefore deserued great reproach for speaking such dishonest words to Narsetes, to send him to thread the needles in that occupation where the damsels wrought. For it is the duety of a Noble Princesse to mitigate the yre of Princes when they are angry, and not to prouoke thē further to anger. [Page 46] Narsetes then alwayes doubting the Empresse Sophia, neuer after returned into Naples, where shee was, but rather came from Naples to Rome, a yeare before the Lambards came into Italy, where hee receyued all the Sacraments, and like a deuout Christian hee dyed.
His body was carried to Alexandria [...]. in a cossin of siluer, all set with precious stones, and there was buried. And a man cannot tell whether the displeasure were greater that all Asia had not to see Narsetes aliue, or the pleasure that Sophia had to see him dead. For the vnpatient heart, especially of a woman, hath no rest, vntill shee see her enemie dead.
CHAP. XVII. Of a Letter the Emperour Marcus Aurelius sent to the King of Sicilie, in which he recordeth the trauels they endured together in their youth, and reproueth him of his small reuerence towards the Temples.
MArcus Aurelius sole Emperour of Rome Marcus. Aurelius speech to Gorbon. borne in Mount Celio, called the old Tribune, wisheth health and long life to thee Gorbin, Lord and King of Sicilie. As it is the custome of the Romane Emperours, the first yeare of my raigne I wrote generally to all the Isle: the second yeare I wrote generally vnto thy Court and Pallace, and at this present I write more particularlie to thy person. And although that Princes haue great Realmes, yet they ought not therefore to cease to communicate with their olde friendes. Since I tooke my penne to write vnto thee, I stayed my hand a great while from writing, and it was not for that I was slothfull, but because I was ashamed to see all Rome offended with thee: I let thee to know, most excellent Prince, that in this I say, I am thy true friend; for in my hart I feele thy trouble, and so sayd Euripides, That which with the heart is loued, with the heart is lamented.
But before I shew thee the cause of my writing, I will reduce into thy memory some thinges past of our youth, and thereby we shall see what wee were then, and what we are now: for no man doth so much reioyce of his prosperity present, as hee which calleth to mind his miseries past.
Thou shalt call to mind, most excellent Prince, that wee two together did learne to reade in Capua, and after we studyed a little in Tarentum: and from thence wee went to Rhodes, where I reade Rhethorike, and thou heardest Philosophy. And afterwardes in the end of ten yeares, wee went to the wars of Pannonia, where I gaue my selfe to musicke, for the affections of young men are so variable, that dayly they would know strange Realmes and change offices.
And in all those iournies with the force of youth, the sweete company, with the pleasant communication of Sciences, and with a vaine hope wee did dissemble our extreame pouerty which was so great, that many times and often we desired not that which many had, but that little which to few abounded.
Doest thou remember, that when Afflictions incident to all men. wee sayled by the gulfe Arpin, to goe into Hellespont, a long and tempestuous torment came vpon vs, wherein we were taken of a Pirate, and for our ransome hee made vs row about nine moneths in a Galley, whereas I cannot tell which was greater, eyther [Page 47] the want of bread, or the aboundance of stripes which wee alwayes endured? Hast thou forgotten also that in the City of Rhodes, when wee were besieged of Bruerdus, puissant King of Epirotes, for the space of fourteene monethes, wee were ten without eating flesh, saue onely two cats, the one which wee stole, and the other which wee bought? remember that thou and I (beeing in Tarent) were desired of our Host to go to the feast of the great Goddesse Dtana, into the which Temple none could enter that day, but those which were new apparrelled. And to say the truth, we determined not to goe thither, thou because thy garments were torne, and I because my shoes were broken, and that both the times wee were sicke in Capua, they neuer cured vs by diet; for our diseases neuer proceeded of excesse but of extreame hunger. And oftentimes Retropus the Physition, for his pleasure spake to vs, in the Vniuersity & sayd: Alas children, you dye not through surfetting and much eating. And truely hee sayde truth, for the Country was so deare, and our mony so scarce, that The miseries of Marcus Aurelius. wee did neuer eate vntill the time we could endure no longer for famine. Doest thou not remember the great famin that was in Capua, for the which cause wee were in the war of Alexandria? wherein my flesh did tremble, remembring the great perils which wee passed in the gulfe of Theberinth. What snowes at winter, what extreame heate all Summer, what generall famine in the fields, what outragious pestilence amongst the people? and worst of all, what persecution of strangers, and what euill will we had of ours? remember also that in the city of Naples, when wee made our prayer, the Prophetesse Flauia, shee tolde vs what should become of vs, after vvee left our Studies. Shee tolde mee that I should bee an Emperour, and sayde that thou shouldest be a King.
To the which answere wee gaue such credite: that wee tooke it not onely for a mocke, but also for a manifest iniury. And now I do not maruell, in that then we both maruelled wonderfull much. For enuious fortune practised her power more in plucking downe the rich, then in setting vp the poore. Beholde (excellent Princes) the great power of the Goddesse, the wheele of fortune, and the variety of times: who would haue thought when I had my hands all rough and scuruy with rowing in the Galley, that betweene those hands the Scepter of the Romane Empire should haue been put? Who vvould haue thought, when I was so sicke for lacke of meate, that I should euer haue surfetted by too much eating? Who vvould haue thought when I could not bee satisfied vvith cattes flesh, that I should haue then glutted with too much dainty meates? Who vvould haue thought at that time, when I left going into the Temple, because my shooes were broken, that another time should come when I should ride triumphing in Chariots, and vpon the shoulders of other men? who would haue thought that that which with my eares I heard of the Prophetes in Campagnia, I should see heere with my eyes in Rome. O how many did hope (at the time we were in Asia) to be gouernours of Rome, & Lords of Sicille, which not onely fayled of the honour that they desired, but also obtayned the death, which they neuer feared: for oftentimes it chaunceth to ambitious men, that in their greatest ruffe, and when they thinke their honour spun and wouen, then their estate with the webbe of their life in one moment is [Page 48] broken. If at that time one had demaunded the Tirant Laodicius (aspiring to the Kingdome of Sicille) and Ruphus Caluus who looked to be Emperour of Rome, what they thought of themselues: assuredly, they would haue sworne their hope to haue been as certaine, as ours was doubtfull. For it is naturall to proud men, to delight themselues, and to set their whole mind vpon vaine deuises. It is a strange thing and worthy of memory, that they hauing the honour in their eyes fayled of it, and wee not thinking thereof in our hearts should obtaine it.
But herein fortune shewed her might, that shee prouided hope for those which looked for least: and despayre for others that hoped for most, vvhich thing grieued them at the very heart. For no patience can endure to see a man obtaine that without trauell, which hee could neuer compasse by much labour. I cannot tell if I should say, like a simple Romane, That those things consist in fortune: or if I should say, like a good Philosopher, That all the Gods doe ordaine them: For in the end, no Fortune nor chaunce can doe any thing without the Gods assent.
Let the proud and enuious trauell asmuch as they will, and the ambitious take as much care as they can: All is worth nothing without the helpe of God. I say and affirme, that little auayleth humane diligence to attaine to great estates, if the Gods bee theyr enemies. Suppose that euill Fortune doe ordaine it, or that the God and Gods doe suffer it, I see those which haue their thoughts high, oftentimes are but of base estate: and so in fine, to come to mischiefe or extream pouerty, & those that haue their thoghts low, are humble of heart, and for the more part are greatly exalted by fortune. For many oftentimes dreame that they are Lords, and men of great estate, which when they are awake, finde themselues slaues to all men.
The condition of honour is such, as I neuer read the like: and therfore such as haue to doe with her, ought to take good heed: For her conditions are such, shee enquireth for him whom she neuer saw, and she runneth after him that flyeth from her, she honoureth him that esteemeth her not, and she demaundeth him which willeth her not, she giueth to him that requireth her not, and she trusteth him whom she knoweth not.
Finally, Honour hath this custome, to forsake him that esteemeth her: & to remaine with him which little regardeth her. The curious Trauellers aske not what place this, or that is, but doe demand what way they must take to leade them to the place they goe. I meane the Princes and Noble men ought not directly to cast their eyes vpon honour: but in the way of vertue, which bringeth them to honour. For dayly wee see many remaine defamed, onely for seeking honour: and others also exalted and esteemed for flying from her.
O miserable World, thou knowest I know thee well, and that which I The fickle estate or the worlde. know of thee is, That thou art a Sepulchre of the dead, a prison of the liuing, a shoppe of vices, a Hangman of vertues, obliuion of antiquity, an enemy of things present, a pittefall to the rich, and a burden to the poore, a house of Pilgrimes, and a denne of theeues,
Finally O World, Thou art a slaunderer of the good, a rauenour of the wicked, and a deceyuer and abuser of all, and in thee O world, to speake the trueth, It is almost impossible to liue contented, and much lesse to liue in honour.
For if thou wilt giue honour to the good, they thinke themselues dishonoured, and esteeme thy honour as a thing of mockerie. And if perchance [Page 49] they bee euill and light, thou sufferest them to come often to honour by way of mockery, meaning infamy & dishonour vnto them.
O immortall Gods, I am oftentimes troubled in my thought, whose case I should more lament, eyther the euill man aduanced without desert, or the good man ouerthrowne without cause. And truely in this case, the pitifull man will haue compassion on them both. For if the euill liue, hee is sure to fall, and if the good fal, wee doubt whether euer hee shall rise againe. If all falles were alike all would bee healed and cured him one salue: but some fall on then feet, some on their sides, others stumble, and fall not, and other fall downe right, but some do giue them a hand. I meane some there are which fall from their estate, and lose no more but their substance: others fall, and for very sorrow lose not onely theyr goods, but their liues withall. Other there are who fall, who neyther lose their liues nor goods, but their honour onely. So according to the discretion of Fortune, the more they haue, the more still he taketh from thee, & I greatly muse why the Gods doe neuer remedy it: for when Fortune once beginneth to ouerthrow a poor man, shee doth not onely take all that hee hath from him, but all those which may and will succour him. So that the poore man is bound more to lament for another mans euil, then for his owne proper. There is a great difference betweene the mishappe of the good, and aduentures of the Difference betweene the good & the euill. euill. For of the ill we cannot say, that he discendeth, but that he falleth, and of the good, we may onely say, that he discendeth and falleth not. For in the end, true honour doth not consist in the perfection and dignity that a man hath, but in the good life that hee leadeth, It is a misery for to see the vaine men of this world, when they goe about to get any thing, and to compasse any great matter of importance, to marke their earely rising in a morning, their late going to bed at night, and the looke which they cast vpon other men, to note how importunate they are to some, and how troublesome they are to others, and afterward (notwithstanding their long sure and great paine) an other man which [...]ittle thought thereof, commeth to that honour, reioysing and without trauell, which he before by so great pairs, and with so great expences of money hath sought: so that in seeking honour by trauell, he commeth to infamy with shame. For I my selfe haue seen sundry things lost by negligence, and many moe by too much diligence.
CHAP. XVIII. The Emperour proceedeth in his letter, to admonish Princes to bee fearefull of their Gods, and of the sentence which the Senate gaue vpon this King, for pulling downe the Church.
AL these things (most excellent Prince) I haue tolde thee, and for none other cause but to aggrauate this case, and to shew the perill thereof. For the good Phisitian (to take away the bitternesse of the pille) ministreth some sweete sugar to delight the Patient withall. The 20. day of the moneth of Ianuary (here before the Senate) was presented a long and large information of thee, and it was sent by the Consull, which went to visite that Isle of Cicilla, which as thou knowest is an old order of Rome, from [Page 50] three moneths to three moneths, to visite all the Land and Countrey subiect to the same. For those Princes are vniust, which haue more care to take vp their Rentes, then diligence to knowe if theyr people bee well ordered by Iustice. Of the information taken of thee and thy person (if my memorie deceyue me not) this was the effect: That thou art temperate in eating, moderate in expences: pittifull to Widdowes, Father to Orphanes gentle to those that serue thee, patient with those that offend thee, diligent to keepe and maintaine peace, and faithfull, to obserue league, and thou art accused onely to bee negligent in the seruice of God.
By one little Gate left open, oftentimes a great Citie besieged is lost: by one onely treason, the infinite seruices past are not esteemed. I meane (most excellent Prince) that it little preuayleth to thinke much of worldly matters, and to forget all diuine seruices. For the good Prince ought first to shut the gate against vices, that they enter not into his subiects, before he doth fortifie the walles against his enemies.
Let euery man bee as hee will, and say what hee list, I for my part, thinke it sure, That the man which is The d [...]ty of a good Prince. not a studious seruer of the Gods, all his vertues shall be turned into vices, ànd esteemed as slaunders.
For it it is a generall rule in high Philosophie, That a worke is not called vertuous, because I worke it onely, but it is vertuous, because it is acceptable to the Gods,
Oh excellent Prince, doest not thou know that there is no man so wise, neither so sage, but erreth more through ignorance, then he doth good by wisdome? And dost not thou know that there is no man so iust, but wanteth much to execute true iustice? And finally (I say,) that there is no vertue so vertuous, but it wanteth more then it hath, to be perfite. Wherfore all our Iustice ought to be made perfit to the diuine Iustice: and the vertue which we lacke, ought to be supplyed vnder the great perfection, wherewith the Gods abound.
And therefore amongst vs Romains we haue this law, (which is the chiefe of all the Philosophers) That here amongst mortall men, nor of mortall men, nor with mortall men, any thing is perfite, vnlesse it bee by the Gods confirmed.
Since men are feeble and frayle, it can not bee chosen but they should commit many frailtyes. And in such case the sage Princes ought & should beare with all the fraylties that men commit: Those excepted which are not iniurious to the Gods, whom (if it were possible,) vnwares ought to be punished. For the Prince should not be called a Prince, but a Tyrant, that is desirous to reuenge his owne iniurie, and in chastening those which are against the Gods, sheweth himselfe negligent.
Let them thinke what they list, and The difference betweene a good prince and a Tyrant. complaine what they will, that Prince which will enlarge his dominions, and giue occasion that the seruice of God be diminished: such a man we wil not call a king that gouerneth, but a tirant:
If wee call him a Tyrant that spoyleth the people, sleeth the men, persecuteth the innocent, dishonoureth Virgines, and robbeth Realmes.
Tell mee (most excellent Prince,) What lacketh hee of a Tyrant, that plucketh downe Churches, and little esteemeth the Gods: There is no token more manifest, that the Prince is a Tyrant, then when hee taketh vpon him any thing which is distastfull, or any way contrarie to the will of the Gods. For he hath but small regard towardes men, that so little feare the Gods.
Lycurgus that most famous King of the Lacedemonians, saith in one [Page 51] of his ancient lawes these words. Wee ordaine and commaund that no Lacedemonian presume to receyue mercy or fauour of the Prince, which will not enforce himselfe to serue the Gods. For he is not onely euill, but of all other most wicked. O excellent King, O glorious World, O fortunate Realme, wherein those Ancients would their Prince should bee so iust, that the gifts were not esteemed, vnlesse their liues were honest: for they thought that of no value which by the handes of euil men was giuē. Thou hast done one thing very dishonest (most noble Prince) the which to write vnto thee, I am ashamed, which is, for to enlarge thy new Palace, thou hast plucked down an old Temple, the which thing thou shouldest neyther haue done, nor yet haue thought: for in the end, though the stones of the Temple be of small importance, yet the Gods to whom they were dedicated were of much value. Pardon me (excellent Prince) though I et thee vnderstand that this fact hath beene done in such sort, that thereby I was amased, and all Rome also offended, the sacred Senate thou hast greatly vexed, and further, all iudge thee a dissolute man, and all men procure that thou mayst be extreamly punished, and hereof maruell not: For in Rome they beleeue, that the Prince which dareth plucke downe Hee that violateth the Temple feareth not God. Temples, doth little feare the Gods. For that thou art a noble Prince, and an olde friend of mine, I haue trauelled to bring thee in fauour with the Senate, and because thou hast no means to excuse thy errour committed, they doe not determine to forgiue thee this fault, before they see in thee a token of amendment. And of truth me thinketh they haue reason: For there is nothing that troubleth poore men more, then to see that they, and not the rich for theyr offences are chastised and punished: That which the sacred Senate hath ordayned is, that forthwith thou begin to build the Temple a new, and that it should be more large, hie, beutifull, and richer then euer it was. So that thou take as much of thy Pallace to enlarge the Temple, as thou tookest of the Temple to beautifie thy Pallace. After thou hast performed this, though now thou thinke thy selfe halfe dishonoured, thou wilt then thinke thy selfe very happy. For not thou of the Gods, but the Gods of thee shall haue taken thy house to make their Temple. I beleeue well it will be great cost and charges vnto thee before thou hast finished the Temple: Wherefore I send thee 40. thousand sexterces to helpe thy building, & to the end it should be more secret, I send thee them by my Secretary Panuntius, to whom, in all, and for all, thou shalt giue credite. I send thee likewise a coller of gold, which one brought me from the riuer of Nyle, and because it was too narrow for mee, I suppose it will be fit for thee, one hath brought me moyles out of Spaine, whereof I send thee two. Panuntius my Secretary bringeth with him a very good Moyle, the which hee esteemeth much: so that there is no man that can eyther buy her, or borrow her. I delight in her so much that I desire thou cause her eyther to be bought or stollen, and sent vnto mee here in Rome,
My wife Faustine saluteth thee, & to the excellent Queene thy Wife: of her part and mine, as much as is possible, do our commendations, & these Popingeyes, Faustine presenteth vnto her. Marcus the Romane Emperour writeth to thee with his owne hand.
CHAP. XIX. How the Gentiles honoured these which were deuout in the seruice of the Gods.
THe ancient Romane Historiographers agree, that at the beginning there were seuen Kinges, which gouerned Rome for the space of 24. yeares. The second whereof was named Pompilius, who amongst all the other was most highly esteemed, for none other cause, but for that hee was a great worshipper of the Gods, and a sumptuous builder of the Temples. For the Romane Princes were as much beloued for seruing the Gods, as they were honoured for vanquishing their enemies. This mā was of such sort, that he allowed Rome wholy for the Gods, & made a house for himselfe without the City. For it was an ancient Law in Rome that no An ancient [...]. man should bee so bolde to dwell in any house consecrated for the gods.
The fift King of the Romanes was Tarquinius Priscus. And as Tarquinius Superbus was vicious and abhorred of the people, so was this vertuous, and welbeloued of the Gods, & was greatly praysed in all his doings, because hee feared God, and continually visited the Temples, and not contented with those which were finished, but built also in the High Capitoll the sacred Temple of Iupiter: For no Prince could build any house in Rome for himselfe, vnlesse first hee made a Temple for the Gods of the Common-wealth.
This Temple was had in so great reuerence, that as the Romanes honored Iupiter for the God aboue all other Gods, so was that Temple esteemed aboue all other Temples. In the warres betweene the [...]alisques, & the Carpenates, two Romane Captaines were vanquished, or the which. the one named [...] dyed: whereupon rose such a great [...] among thē, that many flying [...] the warres, came backe againe to Rome. For the victorious hath alwayes this Priuiledge, That though they bee fewe, yet they are alwayes feared of them that be ouercome.
This occasion m [...]ued the Romanes to chuse new Captaines, and truely they did like wise men. For oftentimes it ha [...]neth by [...] the Captaines of the warres, fortune likewise chaungeth her doings. And the Captaine that was elected for the wars, was Marcus Purius Camillus, The vow of Marcus Camillus. who though he were stout and hardy, yet before he went to the wars, he offered great sacrifices to the Gods, and made a vow that if hee returned to Rome victorious, hee would build a solemne Temple. For it was the custome in Rome, that immediately when the Romane Captaine would enterprise to doe any notable thing, he should make a vow to build Temples. Now when Camillus returned afterwards victorious, hee did not onely build a Temple, but also furnished it with all manner of implements thereunto belonging, which he got by spoyle, and vanquishing his enemies. And sith he was for this reprehended of some, saying that the Romane Captaines should offer theyr hearts to the Gods, and diuide the Treasures among the Souldiers: hee answered these words. I like a man did aske the Gods but one triumph: and they like Gods did giue mee many: Therefore considering this, it is but iust, s [...]th I was [...] in promising, that I should be large in perso [...]ing For euen as I did thanke them for. [Page 57] that they gaue me double, in respect of that I demaunded: so likewise shall they esteeme that which I doe giue, in respect of that which I promised. At that time when the cruell war was betwixt Rome, and the City of Neye, the Romanes kept it besieged 5. yeares together, and in the end by policie tooke it. For it chaunceth sundrie times in warre, that that City in short time by policie is won, which by great strength a long time hath been defended.
Marcus Furius, Dictator of Rome, and at that time Captaine, commanded a Proclamation to be had throgh his Host, that incontinently after the City was taken, none should be so hardy as to kill any of the Citizens, but those which were found armed. Which thing the enemies vnderstanding, vnarmed themselues, and so escaped.
And truly this example was worthy of nothing: For as the Captaines ought to shew themselues fierce and cruell The duetie of euery good Captaine. at the beginning: so after the victorie had of their enemies, they should shew themselues meeke and pittifull.
This Dictator Camillus, for an other thing hee did, was much commended aboue the residue. That is to say, hee did not onely not consent to robbe the Temples. nor dishonour the Gods; but hee himselfe with great reuerence tooke the sacred vessels of the Temples, and the Gods which were therein, (especially the Goddesse Iuno) and brought them all to Rome. For amongst the Auncients there was a Law, that the Gods of them which were vanquished, should not come by lot to the Captaines being Conquerours: therfore hee made in the Mount Auentino a sumptuous Temple, wherein hee placed all the Gods together, with all the holy Reliques which hee wanne. For the greater Triumph the Romans had ouer their enemies, so much the better they handled the Gods of the people vanquished. Also you ought to know, that the Romaines after many victories, determined to make a crowne of golde very great & rich, and to offer it to the God Apollo: but sith the common Treasure was poor, (because there was but little siluer, and lesse golde to make that crowne) The Romane Matrons defaced theyr Iewels and ouches of golde and siluer, to make the Crowne there withall. For in Rome there neuer wanted money (if it were demanded) for the seruice of Gods to repayre Temples, or to redeeme Captiues. The Senate esteemed the well willing hearts of these women in such sort, that they graunted them three things: that is say, To weare on their heades Garlands of flowers, to goe in Chariots to the common places, and to goe The reward of well doing. openly to the feasts of the Gods. For the auncient Romanes were so honest, that they neuer ware gold on theyr heades, neyther went they at any time to the feasts vncouered.
A man ought not to maruell that the Romanes granted such priuiledges vnto the ancient Matrones of Rome: For they vsed neuer to bee obliuious of any benefite receyued, but rather gentle, with thanks and rewards to recompence the same.
An other notable thing chanced in Rome, which was, that the Romanes sent two Tribunes, the which were called Caulius and Sergius, into the Isle of Delphos with greate presents to offer vnto the God Apollo. For as Titus Liuius sayeth, Rome yeerely sent a present vnto the God Apollo, and Apollo gaue vnto the Romanes counsell. And as the Tribunes went out of the way, they fell into the hands of pirates and rouers on the sea, which tooke them with their treasures, and brought [Page 54] them to the Cittie of Liparie. But the citizens vnderstanding that those presents The [...] into the hands of Pylates. were consecrated to the God Apollo, did not onely deliuer them all their Treasure againe: but also gaue them much more, & guides therewith to conduct them safely, (both going and comming) from all peril and danger.
The Romaines beeing aduertised of theyr genltenesse, by the messengers, which were come safe and aliue, did so much reioyce, that they ordayned in Rome, that the Nobles of Liparie should bee made Senatours of Rome, and all the others should be confederates and of aliance vnto them. And they caused further that two priests of Liparie should alwayes remaine in the Temple of Iupiter, which priuiledge was neuer granted to any other strangers but to them onely. For the Romanes had so great zeale, and loue to their Gods, that in the seruices of the temples, they trusted none, but those The great zeale of the Romains. which were natiue & ancient of Rome, and also were both wise and vertuous.
When Quintus Fabius and Publius Decius were in the warres against the Samnites and Tuscanes, and likewise against the Vmbres, manie maruellous and terrible signes were seene in Rome, which things did not only feare those that sawe them, but also those which heard of them. Vpon which occasion the Romaines and the Romane Matrones (both night and day,) offered great sacrifices to the gods. For they sayd, if we can pacifie the wrath of the Gods in Rome, we shall neuer need to feare our enemies in the field.
The thing was this, that as the Romane Matrons went visiting the temples, to appease the ire of the Gods, many senators wiues came to the temple of chastitie, to offer sacrifice. For in the time of the puissant power of the Romanes, the Women did sacrifice in the temples of the Gods.
At that time Virginea, the daughter of Aureus Virgineus, the Consul Plebeian, the which was forbidden to doe sacrifice, for that shee was none of the Senators wiues, but a Plebeian; as The difference of women in Rome. much to say, as a Crafts-woman, and no Gentlemans-Daughter borne. For the Noblewomen were had in so great veneration, and so highly esteemed, that all the other seemed (in respect of them) but hand-maydes and slaues.
The noble Romane Virginea, seeing her to be so repulsed and disdained of the other matrones, made of her own house a temple, to the Goddesse of Chastitie, and with much deuotion and reuerence honoured her. The which thing being published abroade throughout Rome, manie other women came thither, to doe Sacrifice likewise. For Fortune is so variable, that oftentimes those which of pride haue forbidden vs theyr houses, come after by humilitie, to doe vs seruice at ours.
For this cause, this Virginea the Foundresse was so greatly praysed, that the Romaines in her life made her Patrice, (that is, a Noble Romane) and after her death caused her Image and statue to be made and set vp in the high Capitoll: and about this Image were ingrauen certain Greeke characters, the effect whereof was this.
Of all these Hystories aboue-named, Titus Liuius, lib: 2. 5. and 9. Titus Liuius maketh mention, in his first Decade: the second, fifth, and ninth book, and though he declareth them more at large, yet this shall suffice for my purpose, I haue sought amongst the Gentiles these fewe Examples, to reprooue Christian Princes; Onely to the ende they might see [Page 55] how studious and seruent our Fathers were in the seruice of their Idols, & contrariwise how cold and negligent we are to honour and serue our true and liuing God.
It is a shame to tell how the ancient Romanes with all their hearts, did serue the Gods without any vnderstanding, and how those which are Difference betweene the true God and the false. Christians (for the most part) serue the true God, not in truth, but with hypocrisie and dissimulation. For the children of this World will take no paines, but for to prouoke the pleasures of the body.
Many wondred for what occasion God did so much for them, and they did nothing for God? To this may bee answered, that if they had known one true God, all the sacrifices they had done to their other Gods, they would haue done to him onely, and as God is iust, so hee rewarded them in their temporall prosperities, Not for that they did well but for that they desired to doe well. For in our diuine Law, God doth not regard what wee are, but what wee desire to hee.
Christian Princes maruell much what the occasiō should be, that they are not so fortunate as the Gentiles were. To this may bee aunswered, that eyther they bee good or euill. If they bee good, truly God should do them wrong, if for the payment of their faithfull seruices, hee should recompence them with these worldly vanities: For without doubt, one onely louing countenance of God in the world to come, is more worth then all the temporall goods of this world present. But if these such great Lords bee euill in their persons, ambitions in gouerning their Dominions, not pittifull to widdowes and father lesse, not fearefull of God, nor of his threatnings, and moreouer, neuer to haue mind to serue him, but onely when they see themselues in some great ieopardy, in such case God will not heare them, and much lesse fauour them. For without doubt The seruice is more acceptable, which of free will proceedeth, then that which of necessity is offered.
CHAP. XX. For fiue causes Princes ought to be better Christians then their Subiects.
IN mine opinion, Princes ought, and are bound to bee vertuous for fiue causes. I say vertuous, Princes ought to excell their Subiects. in that they should loue, & fear God: for hee onely may bee called vertuous, which in the Catholike Faith of the Church, and in the feare of God hath alwayes remayned constant. First Princes should feare, loue, serue, and loue one only God whom they worship, for that they acknowledge him onely, and none other to bee the head both of heauen & earth. For in the end, there is nothing so puissant but it is subiect to the diuine power.
And truely that Prince is in great perill of damnation of his soule, if in his gouernement he hath not alwayes before his eyes the feare and loue of the supreame Prince, to whom wee must render of all our doings an account.
For the Prince hath great occasion to bee vicious, thinking that for the vice hee shall not be chastised. I haue read in diuers and sundry writings, and I neuer found one ancient Prince to bee contented with one onely God, but that they had and serued many Gods. Iulius Caesar carriedfiue [Page 56] Gods painted in a Table, and Scipio the great carried seuen purtraied in mettall.
And furthermore, they were not contented to haue many: but yet in sacrifices and seruices, they offered vnto them all. The Christian Princes which keepe and haue but one very true and omnipotent God, are so vnthankefull, that they thinke it much to serue and giue acceptable seruice vnto him. And though peraduenture some say, that it is more painefull to serue one true God, then all these false Gods. To this I aunswere, That to serue them it is both trauell and paine: but to serue our God, it is both ioy and felicity. For in seruing those, it is costly, and without profite: and in seruing God great What pleasure it is to serue the liuing God. profite ensueth. For those Gods require great and rich sacrifices, and our God demaundeth nothing but pure and cleane hearts.
Secondarily, Princes should be better christians then others, because they haue more to loose then al: And hee that hath more to lose then any other, ought aboue all other to serue God: For euen as hee alone can giue him, so likewise hee alone, and none other can take from him. And if a Subiect take any thing from his neighbour, the Prince whome hee serueth, maketh him render it again: but if the Prince bee iniuried with any other Tyrant, hee hath none to complaine vnto, nor to demaunde helpe of, but onely of his mercifull God: For in the end, one that is of power cannot bee hurt, but by an other which is likewise mighty. Let Princes behold how the man that will make any great assault, first hee commeth running a farre of as fast as he can. I meane, that the Prince which will haue God mercifull vnto him, ought to bee content with his onely God. For he in vaine demandeth helpe of him, to whom before he neuer did seruice.
Thirdly, Princes ought to be better Christians then others, and this shall bee seene by that they succour What is required in a good Prince the poore, prouide for those that are vnprouided, and visite the Temples, Hospitals and Churches, and endeanour themselues to heare the Diuine Seruice, and for all these things they shall not onely receiue rewards, but also they shall receyue honour. For through their good example, others will doe the same. Princes not fearing God; nor his commandements, cause their Realmes and Subiects to fall into great misery: for if fountains bee infected, it is vnpossible for the streames (that issue thereof to bee pure, We see by experience that a Bridle mastereth a horse and a sterne ruleth a shippe. I weane, that a Prince (good or bad) will leade after him all the whole Realme. And if he honor God, all the people do likewise, if hee serue God, the people also serue him, if he prayse God, the Subiects also prayse him, & if he blaspheme God, they likewise will doe the same. For it is vnpossible that a Tree shoulde bring forth other leaus or fruits, then those which are agreeable to the humour that are in the roots. Princes aboue all other Creatures haue this preheminence, that if they bee good christians, they shall not only receiue merite, for their own works, but also Like Prince like people. for all those which others shall doe, because they are occasion that the people worke well. And for the contrary, they shall not only be punished for the euill which they shall do, but also for the euill which by occasion of their euill examples others shal commit. O Princes that now liue, how do I wish that ye should speake with some one of those Princes which now are dead, especially with those that are condemned to eternal flames, thē yee [Page 57] should see that the greatest torments which they suffer, are not for the euils that they did commit, but for the euils which through their occasion were done: for oftentimes Princes and Prelates sinne more, because they dissembled with others, then for that they do commit themselues. O How circumspect Princes ought to be. how circumspect ought Princes and great Lords to be in that they speake, and how diligently ought they to examine that they doe: for they serue not God onely for themselues, but they serue him also generally for their subiects.
And contrariwise Princes are not onely punished for their owne offences, but also for the sinnes of theyr people: for the shepheard ought grieuously to bee punished, when by negligence the rauening Wolfe deuoureth the innocent Lambe.
Fourthly, Princes ought to bee better Christians then others because that to God onely they must render account of their estates; for as much God onely is iust. as we are sure that God, to whom we must render account is iust, so much the more we should trauell to bee in his fauour, because whether hee find or not find in our life any fault, yet for loue and pitty sake hee may correct vs.
Men one with another make theyr accounts in this life, because they are men, and in the end count they well or euill, all passeth amongst men: because they are men: but what shall the vnhappy Princes doe, which shall render no account but to God onely, who will not bee deceiued with words, corrupted with gifts, feared with threatnings, nor answered with excuses.
Princes haue their Realms full of cruell Iudges, to punish the frailetic of man: they haue their courts full of Aduocates to plead against them that haue offended: they haue their Pallaces [...] and Promoters, that note the offences of other men: They haue through all theyr Prouince, Auditours, that ouersee the accounts of their routs, and besides all this, they haue no remembrance of the day so strict, wherein they must render an account of their wicked life.
Me thinkes (since all that which Princes receyue commeth from the hands of God) that the greatest part of the time which they spend, should bee in the seruice of God, and al their What vertue [...] to bee in a good prince trade in God, and they ought to render no account of their life but vnto God: then sith they are Gods in authority which they haue ouer temporall things they ought to shew themselues to resemble God more then others by vertues, For that Prince is more to be magnified which reformeth two vices among his people, then hee which conquereth ten Realmes of his enemies. But we wil desire them from henceforth, They presume not any more to bee Gods on the earth, but that they endeuour themselues to bee good Christians in the Commonwealth: For all the wealth of a Prince is, That hee bee stout with strangers, and louing to his owne Subiects.
Fiftly, Princes ought to bee better Christians then others, For, the prosperity or aduersity that chanceth vnto them, commeth directly from the hands of God onely, and none other: I haue seene sundry times princes, which haue put their whole trust and confidence in other Princes, to be on a sodaine discomfited: and for the contrary, those which haue litle hope in men, and great confidence in God haue alwayes prospered, When man is in his chiefest brauery, and trusteth most to mens wisedome, then the secret iudgement of God soonest discomforteth him. I meane, that the consederates [Page] [Page 58] and friends of Princes, might helpe and succour them, but God will not suffer them to be holpen nor succoured, to the ende they should see their remedy proceedeth not by mans diligence, but by diuine prouidence. A Prince that hath a Realme, doth not suffer any thing to bee done therein without his aduice: therefore since God is of no lesse power in Heauen, then Princes are on the earth: it is reason that nothing bee done without his consent, since he taketh account God the beginner & ender of all things. of all mens deedes, and as hee is the end of all things, so in him, and by him all things haue their beginning.
O Princes, If you knew how small a thing it is to bee hated of men, and how great a comfort to be beloued of GOD, I sweare, that you would not speake one word (althogh it were in iest) vnto men, neyther would you cease, night nor day, to commend your selues vnto God: for God is more mercifull to succour vs, then wee are diligent for to call vpon him.
For in conclusion, the fauour which men can giue you, other men can take from you: but the fauour that God will giue you, no man can resist it. All those that possesse much God the giuer of all things. should vse the company of them which can doe much: and if it bee so, I let you Princes know, that all men cannot thinke so much together as God is able to doe alone: For the crye of a Lyon is more fearefull then the howling of a Wolfe. I confesse, that Princes and great Lords may sometimes gaine, and winne of them selues: but I aske them whose fauour they haue neede of to preserue and keepe them: we see oftentimes that in a short space many come to great authority, the which neyther mans wisedome sufficeth to gouerne, nor yet mans force to keepe. For the authority which the Romanes in sixe hundred yeares gained, fighting against the Gothes, in the space of three yeares they lost. Wee see daily by experience, that a man for the gouernment of his owne house onely, needeth the counsell of his friends and neighbours: and doe Princes and great Lords thinke by their own heades onely, to rule and gouerne many realmes and dominions.
CHAP. XXI. What the Philosopher Bias was: of his constancy when hee lost all his goods, and of the ten lawes hee gaue, worthy to bee had in memory.
AMong all nations, & sorts of men, which auaunt themselues to haue had with them sage men, the Grecians were the chiefest, which had and thought it necessary to haue, not onely wise men to reade in theyr schooles: but also they chose them to bee Princes in their dominions. For as Plato sayeth, Those which gouerned in those dates were Philosophers or else they sayde, and did like Philosohers.
And Laertius writeth in his second booke, De antiquitatibus Graecorum Laert. de antiq. Graec. That the Grecians auaunted themselues much in this, that they had of all Estates persons most notable, that is to say, Seuen women very sage, seuen Queenes very honest, seuen Kings very vertuous, seuen Captaines very hardy, seuen Cities very notable, seuen buildings very sumptuous, and seuen Philosophers, very well Learned, which Philosophers, were these that follow.
[Page 60] The first was Tales Milesius, that inuented the Carde to sayle by.
The second was Solon, that gaue the first lawes to the Athenians.
The third was Chilo, who was in the Orient for Ambassadour of the Athenians.
The fourth was Pittacus Quintilenus, who was not onely a Philosopher, but also Captaine of the Mitilenes.
The fifth was Cleobolus, that discended from the ancient lynage of Hercules.
The sixt was Periander, that long time gouerned the realme of Corinth.
The seuenth was Bias Prieneus, that was Prince of the Prieneans.
Therefore as touching Bias, you must vnderstand, that when Romulus raigned at Rome, and Ezechias in Iudea, there was great warres in Grecia betweene the Metinences, and the Prieneans: and of these Prieneans, Bias the Philosopher was Prince and The wisdome of Bias the Philosopher Captaine, who because hee was sage, read in the Vniuersity, and for that hee was hardy, was Chiefetain in the warre: and because hee was wise, he was made a Prince, and gouerned the Common-wealth. And of this no man ought to maruell: for in those daies the Philosopher that had knowledge but in one thing, was little esteemed in the Common-wealth. After many contentions had betweene the Metinenses and Prienenses, a cruel battell was fought, whereof the Philosopher Bias was Captaine, and had the victory, and it was the first battell that euer any Philosopher gaue in Greece. For the which victory Greece was proud to see their Philosophers so aduenturous in wars, and hardy of their hands, as they were profound in their doctrine, and eloquent in their tongues.
And by chance one brought him a number of women, and maides to sell, or if hee listed to vse them otherwise at his pleasure: but this good Philosopher, did not defile them nor sell them, but caused them to bee apparrelled, and safely to bee conducted to their owne natiue Countries. And let not this liberty that he did, be had in litle estimation to deliuer the captiues, and not to defloure the virgins. For many times it chaunceth, that those which are ouercome with the weapons of the Conquerours, are conquered with the delights of them that are ouercome. This deede amongst the Greekes was so highly commended, and likewise of their enemies so praysed, that immediatly the Metinences sent Ambassadors to demaund peace of the Prienenses.
And they concluded together a perpetuall peace vpon condition, that they should make for Bias an Bias the occasion of peace. immortall Statue, sith by his hands, and also by his vertues, hee was the occasion of the peace, and ending of the wars betweene them. And truely they had reason, for hee deserueth more prayse which winneth the hearts of the enemies in his tents by good example: then hee which getteth the victory in the field by shedding of bloud.
The hearts of men are noble, and wee see dayly, That oftentimes one shal sooner ouercome many by good, then many ouercome one by euill: And also they say that the Emperour Seuerus spake these words. By goodnesse the least slaue in Rome shall leade mee tyed with a hayre whether hee will: but by euill the most puissant man in the world cannot moue mee out of Italy For my heart had rather bee seruant to the good, then Lord to the euill.
Valerius Maximus declareth, that when the City of Priene was taken by enemies, and put to sacke the wife of Bias was slaine, his children taken [Page 60] prisoners his goods robbed, the City beaten downe, and his house set on fire, but Bias escaped safe, and went to Athens.
In this pittifull case the good Philosopher Bias was no whit the sadder, but rather sang as he went by the way, and when hee perceyued that men maruelled at his mirth, hee spake vnto them these words. Those which speake of mee for wanting my City, my wife, and my children, and loosing all that I had, truely such know not what Fortune meaneth, nor vnderstand what Philosophie is.
The losse of children and temporall goods, cannot bee called losse, if the life bee saued, and the renowne remaine vndefiled. Whether this sentēce be true or no, let vs profoundly consider, if the iust God suffer that this City should come into the hands of the cruell Tyrants, then this prouision is iust: For, There is nothing more conformable vnto Iustice, then that those which receiue not the Doctrine of the Sages, should suffer the crueltite of the Tirants.
Also though my enemies haue killed my wife, yet I am sure it was not without the determination of the Gods, who after they had created her body, immediately appointed the end of her life.
Therfore why shuld I bewayle her death, since the Gods haue lent her life, vntill this day? The great estimation that we haue of this life, causeth that death seemeth vnto vs sodayne, and that the life vnwares with death is ouertaken: but these are words of the children of vanitie, for that by the will of the Gods, death visiteth vs, and against the willes of men, life for saketh vs. Also my Children bee vertuous Philosophers, and albeit they be now in the hands of tirants, we ought not therefore to call them captiues, for a man may not call him a captiue which is laden with yrons, but him which is ouerwhelmed with vices. And although the fire haue burnt my house, yet I know not why I ought to be sad: for of truth it was now olde, and the winde did blowe downe, he tiles, the wormes did waste the wood, and the waters that ranne downe perished the walles, and it was olde and like to fall, and perchaunce would haue done greater displeasure. For most commonly enuie, malice, and old houses suddenly without any warning or knocking at the dore, assaulteth men▪ Finally, there came the fire which quited mee of many troubles: First, of the trouble that I should haue had in repayring [...]: Secondarily, it saued mee money in plucking it downe. Thirdly, it saued me and mune heyres frō much cost and many daungers. For ofentimes that which a man consumeth in repayring an old house, would with aduantage buy him a new. Also those which say that for the taking away of my goods, I lacke the goods of Fortune; such haue no reason so thinke or say: for fortune neuer giueth temporall goods for a proper thing, but to those whom shee list, & when shee will dispose them: therefore when Fortune seeth that those më whom shee hath appointed as her distributers, do hoarde vp the same to them, and to theyr heyres: then shee taketh it from them, to giue it to another. Therfore by reason I should not complaine that I haue lost any thing: for Fortune recommendeth vnto any other the temporall goods: but I carrie patience and Philosophie with me, so that they haue discharged me from all other, and haue no more charge but for my selfe alone.
Laertius declareth in his fifth booke of the sayings of the Gretians: That this Byas determined to goe to the Playes of the Mount Olympus, wherevnto Laert de antiq. Graec. resorted people of all Nations: and he shewed himselfe in this place of so high an vnderstanding, that hee was counted supreame and chiefe of all Phylosophers, and wonne the name of a true Phylosopher.
Other Philosophers then being in [Page 61] the same Playes (called Olymp calles,) asked him many questions, of diuerse and sundry matters: where of I will make mention here onely of some of the chiefest.
The Questions demaunded of the Phylosopher Byas.
THE first Question was this: Tell mee who is the vnhappiest Certaine questions resolued by Byas. man in the Worlde? Byas answered; Hee is most vnhappie, that is not patient in aduersitie. For, men are not killed with the aduersities they haue, but with the impatience which they suffer.
The second was, What is most hardest and most troublesome to iudge: He aunswered. There is nothing more difficult, then to iudge a contention betwixt two Friends. For to iudge between two enemyes: the one remaineth a Friende: but to iudge betweene two Friendes, the one is made an enemie.
The third was, What is most hardest to measure? Wherevnto Byas answered; There is nothing that needeth more circumspections, then the measuring of Time: For the Time should bee measured so iustly, that no Time should want to doe well, nor any time should abound to doe euill.
The fourth was: What thing is that, which needeth no excuse in the accomplishment thereof? Byas answered, The thing that is promised, must of necessitie be performed. For otherwise, hee that doth loose the credite of his word, should lose more then he that should lose the promise to him made.
The fifth was, What thing that is, wherein the men (as well good as euill) should take care? Then Byas answered: Men ought not in any thing to take so great care, as in seeking counsell, and counsellours: For the prosperous Times cannot bee maintained, nor the multitude of enemyes resisted, if it be not by wise men, and graue counsells.
The sixt was, What thing that is wherein men are praised to be negligent? and that is, in choosing of Friendes. Hee answered. In one thing onely men haue licence to be negligent.
Slowly ought thy Friends to bee chosen, and they neuer after for any thing ought to be forsaken.
The seuenth was, What is that which the afflicted man doth most desire? Byas answered, It is the chaunce of Fortune: and the thing which the prosperous man doth most abhorre, is, to thinke that Fortune is somutable. For the vnfortunate man hopeth for euery chaunge of Fortune to be made better, and the wealthy man feareth through euery change to be depriued of his bouse.
These were the Questions which the Philosophers demaunded of Byas, in the Playes of the Mount Olympus, in the 60. Olympiade.
The Phylosopher Byas liued about 95. yeares, and as he drewe neere his death, the Prienenses (shewing themselues to be maruellous sorrowfull for the losse of such a famous man) desired him earnestly to ordayne some lawes, whereby they might know how to choose Captaines, or some Prince, which after him might guide and gouerne the Realme.
The Phylosopher Byas (vnderstanding their honest and iust requests, he (with his best counsell and aduisement) gaue them certaine wholsome Lawes, in fewe wordes, which followe.
And of these Lawes the diuine Plato maketh mention in his Booke De Legibus, and likewise Aristotle, in the booke of Oecenomices.
The Lawes which BIAS gvue to the Prienenses.
WEe ordayne and command, that no Laws made by Byas. man bee chosen to bee Prince among the people, vnlesse hee bee (at least) forty yeares of age. For gouernours ought to be of such age, that neyther youth nor small experience should cause them to erre in their affayres, nor weakenesse thorow ouermuch age should hinder them from taking paines.
Wee ordayne and commaund, that none bee chosen amongst the Prienenses Gouernour, if hee bee not well learned in the Greeke Letters: For there is no greater plague in the publike weale, then for him to lacke wisedome which gouerneth the same.
Wee ordayne and commaund that there bee none amongst the Prienenses chosen Gouernour, vnlesse hee hath beene brought vp in the warres ten yeares at the least: for hee alone doth know how precious a thing peace is, which by experience hath felt the extreame miseries of warre.
Wee ordayne and commaund, that if any haue beene noted to bee cruell, that hee bee not chosen for Gouernour of the people; for that man which is cruell, is likely to be a Tyrant.
Wee ordaine and commaund, that if the Gouernor of the Prienenses bee so hardy, or dare presume to breake the auncient lawes of the people, that in such case hee be depriued from the office of the Gouernour, and likewise exiled from the people: For there is nothing that destroyeth sooner a publike-Weale, then to ordaine new and fond lawes, to breake the good auncient Customes.
Wee ordaine and commaund that the Gouernour of the Prienenses doe worship and honour the Gods, and that hee bee a louer of the sacred Temples. For otherwise hee that honoureth not God, will neuer minister equall iustice vnto men.
Wee ordaine and command that the Prince of Prienenses bee contented with the warres which his Auncesters left him, and that he doe not forget newe matters to inuade any other strange Countries: and if perchance he would, that no man in this case bee bound neyther with money, nor in person to follow or serue him. For the God Apollo told mee, that that man which wil take another mans goods from him by force, shall loose his owne Iustice.
Wee ordaine and command that the Gouernour of the Prienenses go to pray and worship the Gods twice in the weeke, and likewise to visite them in the Temples, and if hee doe the contrary, he shall not onely bee depriued of the gouernement, but also after his death he shall not bee buried. For the Prince that honoreth not God in time of his life, deserueth not his bones should bee honoured with sepnlture after his death.
CHAP, XXII. How God from the beginning punished men by his iustice, and especially those Princes that despise his Church, and how all wicked Christians are Parishioners of Hell.
WHen the Eternall Creatour, (who measureth all the things by his Omnipotency, and weigheth them by God the Creator of all things. his effectuall wisedome) created all things aswell celestiall as terrestriall, visible as inuisible, corporate as incorporate, not onely promised to the good which serued him, but also threatned the euil with plagues which offended him: For the iustice and mercy of GOD, goe alwayes together, to the intent the one should encourage the good, and the other threaten the euill.
This thing seemeth to bee true: for that wee haue but one GOD, which hath created but one World, wherein hee made but one Garden, in the which Garden there was but one Fountaine, and neere to that Fountaine he appointed onely one man, one woman, and one Serpent: neere vnto which was also one tree only forbidden, which is a thing maruellous to speake, and no lesse fearefull to see, how God did put into the terrestriall Paradise (the same day that the creation of the World was finished) both a sword and a gybet. The gybet was the tree forbidden, whereof they did eate: Wherefore our Fathers were condemned. And the sword was the penishment, wherwith wee all (as miserable children) at this day are beheaded: for truely they did eate the bitternesse of theyr fault: and we doe feele the griefe of their paine. I meane to shew how our God by his power doth rayse vp that which is beaten downe, how with his wisedome he guideth those which are blind, how by his will hee dissembleth with the euill doers; neyther wil I tell how hee through his clemency pardoneth the offences, and through his light lightneth the darkenesse, nor how through his righteousnesse, hee amendeth that which is broken, and through his liberality payeth more then wee deserue.
But I will here declare at large, how our omnipotent God through his iustice chastiseth those which walke not in his pathes. O Lord God how sure may thy faithfull seruants Rewards [...] to the [...] the wicked be, for their small seruices to receyue great rewards: and contrary, the euill ought alwayes to liue in as great feare, lest for their hainous offences thou shouldest giue them cruell punishments: for though God of his bounty will not leaue any seruice vnrewarded, nor of his iustice will omit any euill vnpunished: yet for all that wee ought to know, that aboue all, and more then all, hee will rigorously chastice those, which maliciously despise the Catholike faith. For Christ thinketh himselfe as much iniured of those which persecute his Church, as of those that layd handes on his person, to put him to death.
We reade that in times past, God shewed sundry grieuous and cruell punishments, to diuers high Lords and Princes, besides other famous & renowned men. But rigour had neuer such power in his hand, as it had against those which honored that infamed Idoll, and violated the sacred Temples.
For to God this is the most haynous offence, to forsake the holy Catholike faith in his life, and to despaire [Page 64] in his mercy, at the houre of his death.
Would to God wee had so much grace to acknowledge our offences, as God hath reason to punish our sins.
For if it were so, then wee would amend The mercifull goodnes of God. in time to come, and God would graunt vs a general pardon for all that is past. I see one thing wherin (as I thinke) I am not deceiued, which is this: that the fraylties and miseryes which we cōmit, wee thinke them naturall, and in the satisfaction and amendment of the same, wee say they are strange. so that we admit the fault, and condemne the paine which thereby we doe deserue. The secret iudgements of God doe suffer it, and our offences do deserue it: I doe not denie, but that the euill may holde and possesse this life at their pleasure: but I sweare vnto them, when they shall least thinke of it, they shall lose theyr life, to their great displeasure: for the pleasures of this life, are so vnconstant, that wee scarce beginne to taste them, when they fade out of our sight.
It is a rule infallible, which both of the good and euill hath bin proued: that all naturallie desire, rather to abound then to want: & all that which greatly is desired with great diligence is searched, and through great trauell is obtained: and that thing which by trauell is attained, with loue is possessed, & that which by loue is possessed, with much sorrow is lost, bewailed, & lamented. For in the end wee cannot deny, but that the watry eies do manifestly shew the sorrowfull harts. To the fine wits and stout harts, this is a continuall torment and endles paine, and a worme that alway gnaweth: to call to minde that he must lose the ioyfull life, which he so entirely loued: & tast the fearfull death, which so greatly he abhorred. Therfore to proue this matter which I haue spoken of before, it is but reason that Princes knowe (if they doe not know) that men as the diuine Prouidence exalteth them to high Estates, they not deseruing them: So likewise his rigorous iustice will bring thē to nought, if they bee vnthankfull for his benefits. For the ingratitude or benefits receiued, maketh that man not worthy to receyue any moe. The more a man throgh benefits is bound, the more grieuous punishment (if he How God punisheth ingratitude. be vnthankfull) hee deserueth.
All wise men should finde (if they apply their mindes therevnto) that in chastising God calleth those offences first to his minde, which are furthest from the thoughts of men. For before the Tribunall of God our secret faults are alwayes casting out bloud, to the end hee should execute on our person open iustice. And further (I say) that in this case I do not see that the Prince is exempted more, though hee liue in great felicitie, then the poore labourer, who liueth in extreame miserie.
And also we see it eft-soones by experience, that the sudden Lightning, Tempests, and terrible Thunder, forsaketh the small and lowe Cottages, and battereth forthwith the great and sumptuous buyldings. Gods will and determination is, that foras-much as hee hath exalted them aboue all others, so much the more they should acknowledge him for Lord aboue all others: For GOD did neuer create high Estates, because they should worke wickednes: but he placed them in that degree, to the end they should thereby haue more occasion to doe him seruice.
Euery Prince that is not a good Christian, a seruent louer of the Catholike faith, nor wil haue any respect to the Diuine seruice: let him be assured that in this world hee shall lose his renowme, and in the other he shall hazard his soule. For that all euill Christians are the Parishioners of Hell.
CHAP, XXIII.
The Anthour proueth by twelue examples that Princes are sharpely punished, when they vsurpe boldly vpon the Churches, and violate their temples.
Why the children of Aaron were punished.
IT is now time that wee leaue to perswade with wordes and reasons, and to beginne to proue that which we haue sayd, by some excellent histories, and notable examples: For in the end, the hearts of men are stirred more through some little examples, then with a great multitude of words. In the first booke of Leuiticus Leuit. 10. the 10. Chapter, is declared, how in the time of Moses, the sonne in law of Iethro the Priest, (that was of Media) who was chiefe Prince of all the lynage of Seph, with whom the brother of Mary the Leper, had charge of the high Priesthood. For among all the lawes where God at any God the onely ruler of all estates time put his hands vnto; hee prouided alwayes that some had the gouernement of ciuill affayres, and others the administration of the diuine misteries.
This high Priest then had towe children, whose names were Nadab, and Abihu, which two were yong and beautifull, stout and sage, and during their infancie serued their Father, & helped him to doe sacrifice. For in the old law they suffered that Priests should not onely haue wiues & children, but also that their children should succeed them in their Temples, and inherite their benefices.
There came a great mischance for the two children being apparrelled in white, their bodies bound with stolles, their hands naked, in one hād holding a Torch, and in the other the Sencer, being negligent to light the new fire, and contrary to that the law had ordayned, and taking coales which were prohibited, a maruellous thing was seene in the sight of the people, which was, that sodenly these two childrē fel flat on the earth dead, and all their sacrifice burned.
Truly the sentence was maruellous, but it was iust in ough. For they well deserued to loose their liues, sithence they durst sacrifice the coales of an other.
This thing seemed to be true, for these young children saued theyr The iust iudgement of God. soules, and made satisfaction of the fault with their liues: but other wicked men God permitteth to liue a short time, because they shall loose their soules for euer.
The cause why the Azotes were punished.
THe Realme of Palestine being destitute of a King, at that time an honorable olde man gouerned the realme, which was Father to two Knights, named Albino and Phinides; for at that time the children of Israel were not gouerned by Kings that did molest them by iniuries: but by sage men which did maintaine them by iustice.
It chaunced that the Azotes made warre against the Palestines, and were a kind of the Arabians, stout and warlike, the which fought so couragiously, that the Palestines and Hebrewes [Page 66] were constrained to bring their Arke into the middest of the Battell: which was a Relicke, (as a man should haue put the holie Sacrament) to deuide a great multitude of people. But Fortune shewed her countenaunce vnto them so frowningly, that they were not onely ouer-come, but also were spoyled of the Arke, which was their chiefe relicke. And besides that, there were 4000. Palestines slaine. The Azotes carryed away the Arke, full of Relickes vnto their temple, in the Cittie of Nazote, and set it by Dagon, theyr cursed Idoll.
The most High & true God (which will not suffer any to be coequall with The permission of God. him in comparison, or in anie thing that hee representeth) caused this Idol to be shaken, thrown downe, and broken in pieces, no man touching it. For our God is of such power, that to execute his Iustice he needeth not worldly helpe. God not contented thus (though the Idoll was broken in pieces, but caused those to bee punished likewise which worshipped it: in such sort, that al the people of Azotes, Ascalon, Geth, Acharon, and of Gaza, which were fiue auncient and renowmed The plague of God vpon Idolaters. Citties) were plagued, both man and woman inwardly, with the disease of the Emerodes: So that they could not eate sitting, nor ride by the wayes on horse-backe.
And to the end that all men might see that their offences were grieuous, (for the punishment they receyued by the diuine Iustice) he replenished their Houses, Places, Gardens, Seedes, and Fields, full of Rats; And as they had erred in honouring the false Idol, and forsaken the true God, So hee would chastice them with two Plagues, sending them the Emerodes, to torment their bodyes, and the Rats, to destroy their goods. For to him that willingly giueth his soule to the diuel, it is but a small matter, that God (against his will) depriue him of his goods.
This then being thus, I would now gladly knowe, whether of them committed most offence? Eyther the Azotes, which set the Arke in the Temple, which (as they thought,) was the most holiest: or the false Christians, which with a Sacrilegious boldnesse, dare attempt (without anie feare of GOD,) to robbe and pill the Church goods, to theyr owne priuate commoditie in this world.
Truely the Law of the Azotes differed as much frō the Christians, as the offence of the one differeth from the other. For the Azotes erred not, beleeuing that this Arke was the Figure of the True God; but we beleeue it, and confesse it, and without shame cōmit against it infinite vices.
By this so rare and seuere a sudden punishment, mee thinks the Princes & great Lords, should not only therefore acknowledge the True God, but also Reuerence and honour those things which vnto him are dedicated. For mans lawes (speaking of the reuerence of a Prince,) doe no lesse condemne him to die, that robbeth his house, then him which violently layeth hands on his person.
¶ The cause why Prince Oza was punished.
IN the booke which the sonne of Helcana wrote, that is the second booke of the Kings, and the vi. Chapter, hee 2. Reg. 6. saith: That the Arke of Israel with his Relikes (which was Manna, the rodde, and two stones) stood in the house of Aminadab, which was the next neighbour to the citie of Gibeah, the sonne of Esay, (who at that time was King of the Israelites) determined to transpose the Relikes into his Cittie and house: For that it seemed to him a great infamy, that to a mortal Prince, [Page 67] a house should abound for his pleasures, & to the immortall God there should want a Temple for his reliques.
The day therefore appointed when they should carrie the Relique of Gibeah to Bethlehem, there met thirty thousand Israelites, with a great number of Noble men which came with the King, besides a greater number of strangers. For in such a case those are more which come of their owne pleasure, then those which are commaunded. Besides all the people they say, that all the Nobility of the Realme was there to the end the relique should bee more honoured, and his person better accompanied. It chanced that as the Lords and people went singing and the King in person dancing, the wheele of the Chariot began to fall, and go out of the way, the which prince Oza seeing, by chance set to his hand, and his shoulder against it, because the Arke where the Relique was should not fall, nor breake: yet notwithstanding that, suddenly and before them all, hee fell downe dead.
Therefore let this punishment be noted for truly it was fearefull, and ye ought to thinke, that since God, (for A good admonition for all Estates. putting his hand to the Chariot to holde it vp) stroke him with death, that a Prince should not hope (seeking the destruction and decay of the Church) that God will prolong his life. O Princes, great Lords, and Prelates, sith Oza with such diligence lost his life, what doe yee hope or looke for, sith with such negligence yee destroy and suffer the Church to fall? Yet once againe, I doe returne to exclaime vpon you. O Princes and great Lords, sith Prince Oza deserued such punishment, because without reuerence hee aduanced himselfe to stay the Arke which fell, what punishment ought yee to haue, which through malice, helpe the Church to fall.
Why King Balthasar was punished,
DArius King of the Perses and Medes besieged the auncient Babylon besieged. City of Babylon in Chaldea, whereof Balthasar sonne of Nabuchodonozar the great was King and Lord: who was so wicked a child, that his father being dead, hee caused him to be cut in 300. peeces, & gaue him to 300. hawkes to be eaten, because hee should not reuiue againe, to take the goods & riches from him which he had left him. I know not what father is so foolish, that letteth his Son liue in pleasures, and afterwards the entralles of the Hauke wherewith the sonne hawked, should be the wofull graue of the Father, which so many men lamented,
This Balthasar then beeing so besieged, determined one night to make a great feast and banquet to the Lords of his Realme that came to ayde him; and in this he did like a valiant and stout Prince, to the end the Perses and Medes might see, that hee little esteemed their power.
The noble and high hearts do vse when they are enuironed with many trauels, to seeke occasions to inuent pleasures; because to their men they may giue greater courage, and to their enemies greater feare. He declareth of Pirrus King of the Epirotes, when hee was besieged very straightly in the City of Tharenta, of the Romane Captaine Quintus Dentatus, that then hee spake vnto his Captaines in this sort: Lordes and friendes bee yee nothing at all abashed, since I neuer here before saw ye afraid, though the Romans haue compassed our bodies yet we haue besiged their harts [Page 68] For I let you to know, that I am of such a complection, that the straighter they The stout resolution of Pirius. keepe my body, the more my heart is at large. And further I say, though the Romanes beate downe the walles, yet our hearts shall remaine inuincible. And though there bee no wall betweene vs, yet wee will make them know that the hearts of Greekes are harder to ouercome, then the stones of Tarentine are to be beaten downe.
But returning to King Balthasar. The banquet then being ended, and the greatest part of the night beeing spent, Belthasar the King being very well pleased that the banquet was made to his contentation (though he was not the sobrest in drinking wine) commaunded all the cups of gold & siluer with the treasure hee had, to be brought and set on the table, because all the bidden guests should drinke therein.
King Balthasar did this, to the end the Princes and Lords, with al his Captains, should manfully helpe him to defend the Siege, and also to shew that hee had much treasure to pay them for their paines. For to say the truth, there is nothing that encourageth men of warre more, then to see their reward before their eyes: As they were drinking merily (at the banquet) of these cups which Nabuchodonozar had robbed from the Temple of Hierusalem, suddenly by the power of God, and the desert of his offences, there appeared a hand in the wall without a body or arme, The reward due to those that contemne God. which with his fingers wrote these words, Mane, Thetel, Phares, which signifieth: O King Balthasar, God hath seene thy life, and findeth that thy malice is now accomplished. Hee hath commaunded that thou and thy Realme should bee weighed, and hath found that there lacketh a great deale of iust weight, wherfore he commaundeth, that thy life for thine offences bee taken from thee, and that thy Realme bee put into the hands of the Persians and Medes, which are thine enemies.
This vision was not frustrare, for the same night without any longer delay, the execution of the sentence was put in effect by the enemies. The King Balthasar dyed, the Realme was lost, the treasures were robbed, the Noble men taken, and al the Chaldeans captiues,
I would now know, sith Balthasar was so extreamely punished onely for giuing his Concubines & friends drinke in the sacred cups, what paine deserueth Princes and Prelates then, which robbe the Churches for prophane things? how wicked soeuer Balthasar was, yet hee neuer chaunged, gaue, sold, nor engaged the treasures of the Synagogue: but what shall wee say, and speake of Prelates, which without any shame, waste, change, sell and spend the Church goods? I take it to be lesser offence to giue drinke in a Chalice, as King Balthasar did to one of his Concubines, then to enter into the Church by Symony, as many do now a daies. A good caneat for Magistrates This Tyrant was ouercome more by folly then by couetousnesse, but these others are vanquished with folly, couetousnes and Symony
What meaneth this also, that for the offence of Nabuchodonozar in Ierusalem, his sonne Balthasar should come and bee punished? For this truely mee thinke not consonant to reason, nor agreeable to mans Lawe, that the Father should commit the Theft, and the sonne should requite it with seuen double. To this I answer, That the good child is bound to restore all the goods that his Father hath left him euill gotten. For hee that enioyeth the theft, deserueth no lesse punishment, then hee that committeth the theft. For in the end both are theeues, and deserue to bee hanged on the gallows of the diuine iustice.
Why King Ahab was punished.
IN the fifth Booke of Malachie, that is to say, in the third booke of Kings, the 8. Chapter. It is declared, that Asa being King of Iudea, and prophesying in Ierusalem, at the time Omri was King of Israel, and after him succeeded Ahab his sonne, being of the age of 22, yeares. This Ahab was not onely young of yeares, but younger of vnderstanding, and was numbred among the wicked Kings: not onely euill, but too euil: for the Scriptures doe vse to call them by names infamed, whose liues deserued no memory. The The wickednes of Ahab. vices of this King Ahab were sundry and diuers, whereof I will declare some as hereafter followeth. First of all, hee followed altogether the life and steps of the King Ieroboam, who was the first that entised the children of Israel to commit Idolatrie: which thing turned to great reproach and infamy. For the Prince erreth not imitating the pathes of the good; but offendeth in following the wayes of the euill.
Secondarily, this King Ahab married the daughter of the King of the Idumeans, whose name was Iezabel, which was of the stocke of the Gentiles, and he of the Hebrewes. And for a truth the marriage was vnaduisedly considered: for sage Princes should take wiues conformable to their lawes and conditions, vnlesse they wil repent themselus afterwards. Thirdly, hee built againe the City of Hierico, which by the commaundement of God was destroyed, and cōmanded that vpon grieuous pains it should not bee reedefied againe: because the offences that were therein committed were so great, that the Inhabitants did not onely deserue to lose their liues, but also that in Hierico there should not one stone remaine vpon another.
Fourthly, King Ahab built a sumptuous Temple to the Idol Baal, in the City of Samaria, and consecrated a wood vnto him, which he had very pleasant, and set in the Temple his Image of fine gold: so that in the raign of this cursed King, Baal the wicked Idol was so highly esteemed, that not onely secretly, but also openly, they blasphemed the true & liuing God. The case was such, that one day Ahab going against the King of Syria, to take him and his City called Ramoth Gilead, being in battell was shot into the brest with an arrow, wherewith he not onely lost his life, but also the dogges did lap vp his bloud that The punishment of Ahab. fell to the earth. O Princes and great Lords, if you will giue credite vnto mee you shall haue nothing more in recommendation then to bee good Christians: Sith yee see that as this Prince in his life, did serue strange Idols: so it was reason, that after his death, his bloud should bee buried in the entrals of rauenous dogs.
why King Manasses was punished.
THe King Manasses was the sonne of Ezechias, and Father of Amō, which were all Kinges. And truly they differed so much in manners and conditions, that a man could scarcely iudge, whether the vertues and prowesses of the Father, were more to be desired: or the [Page 70] vice and wickednesse of the children to bee abhorred.
This Manasses was a wicked Prince, for as much as he built new Temples to Baal, and in the Cities made Hermitages for the Idols, and in the mountaines repayred all the Altars that heretofore were consecrated to the Deuill. Hee consecrated many Forrests and Woods to the Idolls, he honoured the Starres as the Gods, & did sacrifice to the Planets and Elements: for the man that is abandoned by the hand of God, there is no wickednesse that his obstinate heart doth not enterprise. So that hee had in his Pallace all manner of false Prophets, as Southsayers, Prophesiers, Witches, Sorcerers, Enchaunters, and Coniurers, the which dayly hee caused to giue sacrifice to the Idols: and gaue such credite to Sorcerers and Inchaunters, that his seruants were all for the most part Sorcerers, and in them was his chiefe delight and pleasure. And likewise he was skilfull in all kind of mischiefe, and ignorant in all vertues. He was so cruell, and spilt so much innocent bloud, that if it had beene water put together, and the bodies of them that he slew layd on heapes, it would both haue couered their carkases, and also haue drowned the liuing: Yet hee not contented with that I haue spoken off, set in the Temple of the Lord What mischiefe followes the contemners of God. an olde Idoll that stood in the wood: for the punishment of which fact, God suffered his seruants to kill his eldest sonne. And afterward God would not suffer these such sundry mischiefes of mans malice, but of his diuine iustice caused these words to bee proclaimed in Hierusalem. Sith the King Manasses hath beene so bolde to contemne mee, and himselfe alone to commit the offences of all, I will chastice him alone with the same correction that hee hath shewed vnto others.
By these words let Princes note here, how the diuine vengeance extendeth no further, then our offences deserue, so that if our fault bee litle, the punishment which hee giueth vs is very temperate: but if the Prince bee stubborne and obstinate in his wickednesse, let him be sure that the punishment shall be extreame.
Why Iulius, Pompeius, Xerxes, Catilina, Germanicus, and Brennus were punished.
WHen Pompeius the Great passed into the Orient, with all the Host of the Romaine people, and after he had subdued all Siria, Mesopotamia, Damasco, and Arabia: hee passed into the Realme of Palestine, which otherwise was called Iudea, where he committed diuers and sundry euils, so that many of the Romanes and Hebrues dyed there.
Finally, by force of Armes hee tooke the puissant City of Hierusalem, which as Plinie sayeth, was the best of all Asia: And Strabo sayeth of the situation of the World, that Rome was the chiefe of all Italy, and of Affricke the principall was Carthage, of Spaine Numantia: of Germany, Argentine: of Caldea, Babylon: of Egypt, Thebes: of Greece, Athens: of Phenice, Tira: of Cappadocea, Cesare: of Thrace, Constantinople: and of Palestine, Hierusalem.
Pompeius therefore not contented to kill all the Auncients of that warre, to imprison the youth, to behead the elders, to force the mothers, to defile the virgins, to teare in peeces the children, to beat down buildings, The cruelty of Pompeius. and to rob the Treasure [...]: but encreasing euill vpon euill, and putting all [Page 63] al the people to destruction, he made of the Temple a Stable for his horses: which before God was abominable, that where alwayes heretofore he had beene a Conquerour, and triumphed ouer twenty two Kinges, euer after he was vnluckie, and ouercome in battell.
The famous rebell Catilina (as Salust The punishment of sacriledge. affirmeth) had neuer beene ouercome, as if it had not beene for the robbing and destroying of the Temples, which were consecrated to the Gods.
The noble Marcuus Marcellus (to whome no Romaine is to bee compared in vertues) the same day hee caused the Temple of the Goddesse Februa to be burnt, was himselfe slaine in battell.
The noble Romaine Captaine Drusius Germanicus, that was so well willed and beloued, because hee gaue a calfe meate to eate (which was the God of the Chaldeans (being prohibited and forbidden) within a moneth after dyed, whose death was greatly lamented in Rome.
Suetonius sayeth, that after Iulius Caesar, had robbed the Temple of the Gawles; the Gods alwayes made him afrayde in the night.
And Xerxes, which was the Sonne of King Darius, when he passed into Italy to wage battell, before all other things hee sent foure thousand Horsemen to Delphos (where the Temple of God Apollo was,) to beate it downe: for the pride of Xerxes was so great, that hee would not only subdue men, but also conquer the Gods:
It chanced, that euen as they approached neere the Temple to beate it downe, a sodaine tempest fell vpon The pride of Xerxes euerthrown them, so that with stones and thunderbolts they were all killed in the fields, and so dyed.
Brennus was one of the renowned Captaines of the Gothes, who sith hee had conquered and subdued the Greekes, determined also to robbe the Treasures of the Temples, saying that Gods should giue vnto men, & not men vnto Gods, and that it was great honour to the Gods, that with their goods, men should bee made rich: But as they beganne to robbe the Temple, there fell a multitude of arrowes from heauen, that the Captaine Brennus dyed there, and all his The misrable end of Brennus. men with him, not one left aliue.
After that Sextus Pompeius was vanquished in the battell by sea, neare vnto Sicilie, by Octauus Augustus, hee retired himselfe into the Arkes Lacinii, where there was an auncient Temple consecrated to the Goddesse Iuno, endowed with maruellous Treasures.
And it chaunced one day, that his Souldiers asking him money, and he being then without, he commaunded them to beate down the Temple of the Goddesse Iuno, and to pay themselus with the spoyle of her treasure. Vhe Historiographers say, that within a while after it chanced, Sextus Pompeius to be taken of the knights of Marcus Antonius, and when hee was brought before Titus Generall of the Army, he spake vnto him these words I will you know Sextus Pompeius, I doe not condemne thee to dye for the offences thou hast committed against my Lord Marcus Antonius: But because thou hast robbed and beaten downe the Temple of the Goddesse Iuno.
For thou knowest, that the good Captaines ought to forget the offences against men, and to reuenge the iniuries done. the Gods.
CHAP. XXIIII. How Valente the Emperour because hee was an euill Christian, lost in one day both the Empire and his life, and was burned aliue in a sheepecote.
WHen Iulian the Apostate was Emperour of Rome, hee sent to conquer Hungary, of no iust title hee had to it, more then of ambition to vnite it to the Romane Empire, For tirannous Princes vse all their force to vsurpe other realms by crueltie, and little regard whether they may doe it by iustice. And because the Romane Empire was of great force, this ambitious Emperour Iulian, had in that warres a mighty and puissant Armie, which did wonderfull much harme through all the coū tries they came. For the fruites of warres is, to bereaue the enemies of life, and to spoyle the men of theyr goods.
It chaunced one day as fiue knights went out of the Campe, to make a rode, they found a youngman that The valour of Gracian. carried a halter in his hand, and as they would haue taken it away from him, to haue tyed theyr horses to let them feede, hee was so hardy and so stout, that hee defended himselfe from them all: so that he had more strength alone then they fiue altogether.
The Romane Knights amazed to see this young man defend himselfe from them all so stoutely, very instantly desired him to goe to the Romane Campe with them, and they promised him hee should haue great entertainement: for the Romanes were so diligent, that they should omit no good thing for want of money, so that it were for the publike weale. This young man was called Gracian, and was borne and brought vp in the Country of Pannonia, in a City they called Cibata: His lynage was not of the lowest sort of people, nor yet of the most esteemed Cittizens, but were men that liued by the sweate of their browes, and in loue of the common people. And truly it is no small benefit that God had made him of a mean estate, for to be of base lynage, maketh men to bee despised, and not regarded: and to come of a noble bloud and high lynage, maketh men to be proud and lofty.
This young man being come into What maketh a man to be respected in this world. the Romaine Campe, the fame was immediately spred, how that he alone had vanquished 5. Knights. And his strength and courage was so highly esteemed, that within a while after he was made Pretour of the Armie. For the Romaines, not according to fauour, but according to the ability of men, diuided the offices and degrees of honour in warres. Time therefore working his nature, and many estates being decayed, after this young Gracian was made Pretour of the Armie, and that hee was sufficiently tryed in the warres, Fortune, which many times bringeth that to passe in a day, that mans malice cannot in many yeares, raysed this Gracian to be Emperour of Rome: For truly one houre of good successe is more worth, then all worldly fauour.
This Gracian was not onely singular Gracian chosen Emperour. in strength, couragious in battell, fortunate in all his affayres: but also hee was luckie of children: that is to say, hee had two sonnes, which were Emperors of Rome, the one was called Valente, the other Valentinian. In this case the children might glory to haue a Father so stout: but the glory of the Father is greater to haue sonnes of such Nobility: For there is no greater felicity in this world; [Page 73] then during life, to come to honour and riches: and after death, to leaue good children to enioy them. The eldest of the two sonnes was the Emperour Valente, who ruled in the Orient for the space of foure yeeres, and was the nine and thirtieth Emperour of Rome from Iulius Caesar, though some doe beginne at the time of Octauian, saying, that hee was vertuous, and that Iulius Caesar vsurped the Empire like a Tyrant. This Valente was beautifull of person, but poore of vertues: so that hee was more beautifull then vertuous, more couragious then mercifull, more rich then charitable, more cruell then pittifull. For there are many Princes that are very expert to deuise new orders in a common wealth, but there are few that haue stoute hearts to put the same in execution.
In those dayes the Sect of Arrian the cursed Heretike flourished, and The heresie of Arian. the Emperour Valente was greatly blinded therein: insomuch that hee did not onely fauour the Arrians, but also hee persecuted the Christians, which was shewed for so much as he killed, and caused to be killed (for that occasion) many lay men, and tooke many Clerkes, and banished many Bishops, ouerthrew many Churches, robbed the goods of the Christians, and did infinite other mischiefes in the common welth: For the Prince which is infected with heresie, and liueth without feare of the Church, there is neither mischiefe nor treason but he will commit.
In the deserts of Egypt in the mountaines of Armenia, and in the cities of Alexandrie, there was a great multitude of Fryers and religious men, amongst whom were many Wisemen, and pure of life, constant in the defence of the Church, and patient in persecutions. For hee is a true religious man, that in time of peace is charitable to teach the ignorant, and bolde in the time of Schismes to confound the Heretikes, The description of a religious man.
The Emperour Valente was not onely a friend vnto the Arrians, and and an enemie to the Christians, but also hee was a persecuter of the deuoute and religious Fryers. For hee commaunded proclamations to be hid through all his Realmes and Domions, that all the religious that were young in yeares, whole of their bodies, and sound of their limmes, should immediately cast off theyr Cowles and Hoodes, leauing theyr Monastery, and take Souldiers wages in the Campe: for hee sayde Monasteries were inuented for nothing else but to maintaine those that were deformed, blinde, lame and maymed; and vpon this occasion, hee shewed great tyranny: for many Monasteries were left naked, many notable constitutions were broken, many hermites were martyred, many Fryers whipped, many notable Barons banished, and many good men robbed of their goods. For the vertuous men desired rather the bitter life of the Monastery then the sweete and pleasant liberty of the world.
This wicked Emperour yet not contented with these things, as by chance his wife commended vnto him the beauty of a Romane called The cruelty of Valente. Iustinia, without any more delay hee married her, not forsaking his first wife, and immediately made a law throughout all his Empire, that without incurring any danger, each Chrian might haue two wiues, and marry with them by the law of Matrimonie: for the tyrannous Princes (to cloake their vices) make and establish the lawes of vices. The shame was not little that the Emperour Valente (against the commaundement of the Church) would marry with two women at one time: but the lesse shame [Page 74] hee had, the greater was his iniquitie to put it in execution, and to cause it to bee published through his realm as a Law: for a particular vice corrupteth but one alone, but a generall law destroyeth all.
At that time the puissant Gothes were in the parties of the Orient, the which were in feates of Armes very valiant and couragious: but in things of faith they were euil brought vp, although the greatest part of them were baptized: for then the Church was very poore of Prelates, howbeit those that they had were very notable men. After the Gothes were baptized, and the fury of the warres somwhat appeased, they sent Ambassadours to the Emperour Valente, desiring him that immediately, and forth with hee would send them holy Catholike Bishoppes, by whose doctrine they might be instructed, & brought to the Christian faith: for it was supposed that the Emperour of Rome could haue no Bishops in their countryes vnlesse they were vertuous: this wicked Emperour, sith hee was now entangled with heresie, and that hee had peruerted the customes of good Emperours (that is, for hauing about him euill Bishoppes) as he was now enuironed with al euils and mischiefes, so hee sent to the Gothes a Bishop called Eudoxius, the which was a ranke Arrian: and brought with him many Bishoppes, which were Heretikes, by the which the Kinges and Princes of the Gothes were Arrians, for the space of two hundred yeares,
The Catholike Princes ought to take great care to Watch, and in watching to be warie and circumspect, that they, their Realmes, neyther The duety of euery good Prince their Subiects should in theyr time bee defiled with heresie: For the plague of Heretikes and Heresies, is not of light occasion banished the place where once it hath raigned.
Wee haue declared of the small faith that this Emperour had in Iesus Christ, and of the great mischiefes he did to the Church. Let vs now see what was the end of his miserable life. For the man of wicked life seldome commeth to good end. The matter was this, that as the Gothes were driuen out of the Realme by some of the Hunnes, they came immediately to the Realme of Thracia, which then was subiect to the Romanes. And the Emperour Valente without any couenant receiued them into his land, wherein hee committed great folly, and vsed little wisedome: for it is a generall rule, where The folly and ouersight of the Emperour. rebels, vagabonds, & strangers come to inhabite, there the Realme and dominions is destroyed.
The Gothes remained certain yeares among them, without any dissention or quarrelling against the Romaines: but afterwards through the couetousnes of Maximus chiefe Captain of the Romaines, who denyed the Gothes of their prouision, which so long time remained Friendes, arose betweene them so cruell warres, that it was the occasion of the losse and vtter vndoing both of Rome and of all Italie. For truly there is no enmity doth somuch hurt, as that of Friends when they fall out at discord,
The Warres now being kindled, the Gothes were scattred through the Kingdome of Thrace, and they left no Forte but they battered downe, they came to no Townes, Villages, nor Cities but they sacked and spoyled: They tooke no Women but they forced, and rauished, they entred into no house but they robbed.
Finally, the Gothes in short time shewed the poison that they had against the Romans: & let no man maruell [Page 75] that the Gothes committed so many cruel and hainous facts, sith we that are Christians doe commit dayly greater offences. For among rebels it is a common errour, that that which they rob in the warres, they say they are not bound to restore in peace. The Emperor Valente was then in the citie of Antioch, and sith he had assembled there a great armie, and had great aide out of Italy, he determined himselfe in person to goe into the campe of the Romans, and to giue the onset against the Gothes, wherein hee shewed himselfe more bold then wise for a Prince in battael cā do no more then one man, nor fight more then one man, and if he die, he is the occasion of the death and destruction of them all. When both the hosts of the Romaines and the Gothes ioyned, there was betweene them a cruell and mortall fight: so that in the first brunt the Gothes shewed themselues so valiant, that they put to flight the Romans horsemen, leauing their footemen alone in great ieopardie, the which in short space after were discomfited and slaine, not one left aliue. For the barbarous sware that that day the Gothes should all die, or else vtterly they would destroy the name of the Romanes. And in this first charge the Emperour Valente was mortally wounded, who perceyuing he had his deathes wound, and that the battell was lost, hee determined to flye and saue himselfe; but when fortune beginneth to persecute any man, shee leaueth him not vntill shee see him dead, or beaten downe without recouery.
Therefore as this wicked Emperour (thinking to saue himselfe) came into a sheepecote, the enemies seeing him, in the end set fire on the shepecote, and burnt him aliue. So in one day hee loft his person, his life, his honour, and his Empire.
For it is meete that Princes and great Lords should lift vp their eyes to consider The miserable end of the Emperour Valentinian. well the Historie of Valente, that they stray not from the Catholike Faith, that they dishonour not Gods Ministers and maintaine heresyes. For as this accursed Emperour Valente for his wicked doings was condignely punished by the hands of Almighty God So let them be assured, the selfe same God will not pardon their offences. For it is a rule infallible, That that Prince which is not a good Christian, shal fall into the hands of his cruell enemies.
CHAP. XXV. Of the Emperor Valentinian and Gracian his Sonne, which raigned in the time of Saint Ambrose, which because they were good Christians, were alwayes fortunate, and that God giueth victory vnto Princes, more through the teares of them that pray, then thorow the weapons of those that fight.
IAlentinian and Valent were brethren, and the eldest of A custome among the Romanes. them was Valentinian who succeeded in the Empire (after the death of his Father) to bee Pretor of the Armies. For amongst the Romaines there was a Law in vre, that if the Father dyed in the fauour of the people, of right the sonne without any other demand was heyre.
This Valentinian was a lusty yong man, of a sanguine complexion, and of his body well shaped, and aboue all hee was a good Christian, and of all the people generally welbeloued: For nothing adorneth the noble man more, then to bee counted [Page 76] ciuill and courteous of behauiour.
At that time when the Emperour Iulian persecuted most the Christians: Valentinian was Pretour of the Armies; and when Iulian was aduertised that Valentinian was a Christian, hee sent vnto him, and bad him doe sacrifice to the Idols of the Romane Emperor, or else to forsake the office of his Pretorship.
Iulian would gladly haue killed Valentinian but he durst not: for it was a Law inuiolable amongst the Romanes, that no Citizen should be put to death without the decree of the Senate, Valentinian receyuing the message of this Emperour Iulian, aduertised of his will (which was to renounce his faith, or to leaue his office) hee did not onely resigne his office, but therewithall forgaue the Emperour all the money hee ought him for arrerages of his sernice. And because hee would liue with a more quiet conscience he went from Rome into a Cloyster, where hee banished himselfe for two yeares and a halfe; & for this hee was highly esteemed and commended.
For it is a good signe, That man is The duty of euery good Christian. a good Christian, which of his owne free will renounceth worldly goods. Shortly after it happened that Iulian the Emperour went to conquere the Realme of Persia, where in a battell hee was very sore wounded, and fell downe dead in the present place. For to the mishaps of Fortune, the Emperour with all his estate and pleasures is as much subiect, as is the poorest man that lieth in the streetes.
When the newes came to Rome that Iulian was dead, by the consent of all, Valentinian was created Emperour; so that hee being banished for Christs sake, was called againe, and crowned Prince of the Romane Empire.
Let no man care to loose all that hee possesseth, let no man weigh to see himselfe despised for Christes sake: For in the end men cannot in a thousand yeeres so much abase vs, as God in one houre can exalt vs.
In the same yeare, which was from the foundation of Rome [...]119 in a City called Atrobata, it rained very fine wooll, so that all the City became rich. In the same yeare, in the City of Constantinople, it hayled such great stones, that they killed many men, & left no heards in the fields aliue. At that same time there came an Earthquake throughout Italy, and so likewise in Sicille, that many houses fell, and slew sundry persons, and aboue all, the sea rose in such sort, that it drowned many Cities nigh thereunto. Paulus Diaconus in the 11. booke The description of the Emperour Valentinian De Legibus Romanorum, sayeth, that the Emperour Valentinian was of a subtill wit, of graue countenance, eloquenr in speech, yet hee spake little stout in his affaires, and diligent in his businesse, in aduersities patient, and a great enemie of the vicious, temperate in eating & drinking, and a friend of religious persons; so that they sayde, hee resembled the Emperour Aurelius. For after that the Emperour Marcus Aurelius dyed (with whom the felicitie of the Roman Empire ended) they euer vsed thēcefoorth in Rome to compare and liken the yong and new come Princes to the ancient Emperours their Anrecessors. That is to say, if the Prince were couragious, they sayde hee was like Iulius Caesar, if he were vertuous, they sayde he was an other Octauian: if he were fortunate, that hee was Tiberius, if hee were rash, they say de he was Caligula, if he were cruell, they compared him to Nero, if hee were mercifull, they said he was like to Traian, or Antoninus Pius, if he were beaucifull, they likened him to Titus, if idle they compared him to Domitian, if [Page 77] he were patient, they called him Vespasius, if he were temperate they likened him to Adrian, if he were deuout to their gods, then he seemed Aurelianus. Finally, he that was sage and vertuous, they compared him to the good Marcus Aurelius.
This Emperour Valentinian was a good Christian, and in all his affaires touching the Empire, very wise and circumspect, and yet he was noted for one thing verie much, and that was, that hee trusted and fauoured his seruants so much, and was so led by his Friends, that through their occasion, (they abusing his loue and credite,) there arose many dissentions amongst the people.
Seneca saide once vnto the Emperour Nero, I will that thou vnderstand (Lorde) that there is no patience, The saying of Seneca. can suffer, that two or three absolutely commaund all, not for that they are most vertuous, but for that they are most in fauour with thee.
O yee Noble Princes and great Lords, if you were as I am, I know not what you would doe: but if I were as you bee, I would behaue my selfe in such sorte to them of my house, that they should be seruants, to serue and obey mee: and not to boast themselues, to bee so farre in fauour as to commaund mee: For that Prince is not sage, that to content a fewe getteth the hatred of all.
The Emperour Valentinian dyed in the fiue and fiftie yeare of his byrth, and the eleuenth yeare of his Empire, The death of the Emperour. languishing of a long sicknes, that his vaynes were so dryed vppe, that they could not drawe one drop of bloud out of his bodie. And at the day of his Funeralles, where the dead corps was greatly bewayled. Saint Ambrose made an excellent Sermon, in commendation of him. For in those dayes, when any Noble Prince departed, that loued and succoured the Church, all the holy Bishops met together at his buryall.
The two brethren beeing Emperours, that is to say, Valentinian and Valent, through the desire of the Father in law of Gracian, who was father to his wife, and desirous to haue one of his daughters childrē, chose Valentiniā to bring vp, who had a sonne named Gracian, which was created Emperor so young, that as yet he had no beard. And truly the Senate would not haue suffered it, if the Father had not bin vertuous, and the childe sage. But the Senate would haue done this, and more also for Valentinian, because hee did deserue it well of the Romaine people. For it is reason in distributing of the Offices, That Princes haue more repsect to the deserts of the Fathers, then to the tender age of the Children.
This young Gracian began to be so temperate, and was so good a Christian in fauouring the Church, that it The wisedome and discretion of young Gracian. was much quiet, and great pleasure to the Romaine people to haue chosen him: and greater ioy to the Father, (being aliue) to haue begotten him: so that he left for him after his death, an immortall memorie of his life. For the childe that is vertuous, is alwayes the memorie of the Father after his death.
In the yeare of the Foundation of Rome, a thousand, an hundred, thirtie and two, the said Gracian the younger was created sole Heyre of the whole Empire, his vnckle Valent and his Father being departed the world. And after Gratian came to the Empire, many Bishops which were banished in the time of his Vnckle Valent, were restored to the Church againe, and bannished all the sect of the Arrians out of his Region.
Truely he shewed himselfe to bee a very religious and Catholike Prince. For there is no better iustice to confound humain malice, then to establish the good in theyr estate.
In the first yeare of the raigne of Gracian [Page 78] Emperour, all the Germanes and the Gothes rebelled against the Romane Empire, for they would not onely not obey him, but also they prepared an huge Army to inuade his Empire: Imagining that sith Gracian was young, hee neyther had the wit, nor yet the boldnesse to resist them: For where the Prince is young, there oftentimes the people suffered The olde Prouerbe not alwayes true. much wrong, and the Realme great misery,
Newes came to Rome, how that the Gaules and Germaines were vp, the Emperour Gracian wrote to all the Catholike Bishops, that they should offer in their Churches great Sacrifices with prayers vnto God, and in Rome likewise it was ordayned, that generally processions should be had, to the end Almighty God should moderate his ire against his people: For good Christians first pacifie God with Prayers before they resist their enemies with weapons. This good Prince shewed himselfe to be no lesse warlike in his outward affayres, then a good Christian in his Religion: for God giueth victories vnto Princes more through tears then through weapons.
These things thus finished, and his affayres vnto God recommended, the noble Emperour Gracian determined to march on, and himselfe in person to giue the battell. And truly as at the first hee shewed himselfe to bee a good Christian: so now he declared himselfe to bee a valiant Emperour: For it were a great infamy and dishonour, that a Prince by negligence or cowardnes should lose that which his Predecessors by force of armes had gotten. The army of the enemies exceeded farre the Romane army in number, and when they met together in a place called Argentaria, the Romaines being inferiour to their enemies in number, were afraide: For in the warres the great multitude of enemies and their puissant power, maketh ofttimes the desired victorie to be doubtful. This thing seene of the Romanes, and by them considered, importunately they besought the Emperour not to charge the battell, for they sayde hee had not men sufficient: And herein they had reason: For the sage Prince should not rashly hazard his person in the warre: nor yet should lightly put his life in the hands of Fortune. The Emperour Gracian not changing countenance, nor stopping in his words, to all the Knights which were about him, answered in this wise.
CHAP. XXVI. Of the godly Oration which the Emperour Gracian made to his Souldiers before hee gaue the battell.
VAliant Knights & Companions in The Oration of the Emperour: warre, most thankefully I accept your seruice, in that you haue solde your goods, and do offer your liues here to accompany mee in the warres, and herein you shew your duties: for of right you ought to loose your goods, and to venture your liues, for the defence and surety of your Country. But if I giue you some thanks for your company, know you that I giue much more for your good counsell which presently you giue me: for in great conflicts seldome is found together, both good counsell and stout hearts. If I haue enterprised this battell in hope of mans power, then you had had reason that wee should not giue the battell seeing the great multitude that they haue, and the small number that wee are; for as you say, the weighty affayres [Page 79] of the publike weale should not vnaduisedly bee committed to the incertainety of Fortune.
I haue taken vpon mee this daungerous and perillous warres: first trusting that on my part iusticeremaineth, and sith God is the same onely iustice, I trust assuredly hee will giue mee the victory in this perillous conflict: For iustice auayleth Princes more that they haue, then the men of warre doe which they lead. Wherfore sith my cause is iust, and that I haue God the onely Iudge therof on my side, me thinketh if for any worldly feare I should cease to giue the battell. I should both shew my selfe to be a Prince of small faith, and also blaspheme God, saying hee were of small iustice. For God sheweth most his power there, where the frailenesse of man hath least hope. Then sith I beginne the warre, and that by mee the warre is procured, and for mee you are come to the warre, I haue determined to enter into the battell, and if I perish therein, I shall bee sure it shall bee for the memory of my person, and the saluation of my Soule: For to dye through iustice is not to dye, but to change death for life. And thus doing, if I lose my life, yet therefore I lose not my honour, and all this considered I doe that which for the Common-wealth I am bound, For to a Prince it were great infamy and dishonour, that the quarrell being his owne, should by the bloud of others be reuenged. I will proue this day in battell whether I was chosen Emperour by the diuine will or not: For if God this day causeth my life to bee taken frō me, it is a manifest token he hath a better in store for me, and if through his mercy I be preserued, it signifieth that for some other better thing he granteth me life. For in the end the sword of the enemy is but the scourge of our offences. The best that I see therefore in this matter to bee done is, that till three dayes be passed the battell bee not giuen, and that wee confesse our selus this night, & in the morning prepare our selus to receiue our Redeemer, and besides this, that euery man pardon his Christian brother, if he haue had any wrong or iniury done him: for oft times though the demaund of the war bee iust, yet many mishaps befall therein, through the offences of those which pursue & follow the same.
After that three dayes are past, & each thing according to my sayings before accomplished in euery point as behoueth, then let God dispose all things as hee shall see good, for now I am fully determined to aduenture my life in battell▪ Wherefore my valiant and stout warriours, doubt not at all, for this day I must eyther vanquish mine enemies, or else suffer death: and if I dye, I doe that which needes I must. Wherefore I will now cease to exhort you any more, desiring you to consider that, whereunto your duties leadeth you, remembring that you are come as knights, and in the defence of your Country, you wage battell: for now we are come to that pinch, that deedes must more auaile The duety of euery good Souldier. vs then words: for peace ought to be maintained by the tongue, but wars ought to be atchieued by sword. Al these words then ended, and three dayes past, the Emperour in person gaue the battell, where the conflict & slaughter on both sides was very terrible: yet in the end the Emperour Gracian had the victory ouer his enemies, and there dyed in that conflict 30. thousand Gothes and Almaines, and of the Romanes there were not slaine but fiue thousand: For that Army only is preserued, which to the diuine will is conformable. Let all other Princes take example by this noble Prince: let thē cōsider how it behoueth thē to be good [Page 80] Christians, and that in great warres and conflicts they neede not feare the great number of their enemies: but they ought greatly to see that the wrath of God bee pacified: For the heart is more dismaied with the secret sinnes, then it is feared with the open enemies.
CHAP. XXVII. That the Captaine Theodosius which was Father of the Great Emperour Theodosius, dyed a good Christian: And of the King Hismarus, and the Bishop Siluanus. And of a Councell that was celebrated, with the Lawes which they made and established in the same.
THe two brethren being Emperours, that is to say, Valentinian and Valente, in the coastes of Africke, & the realme of Mauritania, a Tyrant vsurped the place of a King against the Romanes, who was named The tyranny of Thyrmus. Thyrmus, a man hardy in trauels, and in daungers stout: For the aduenturous hearts oftentimes doe commit many tyrannies.
This tyrant Thyrmus by much crueltie came possessed of the realme of Mauritania: and not contented therewith, but also by tyranny possessed a great part of Affricke, and prepared as (Hannibal did) an huge armie to passe into Italy, to dye in challenging the Empire of Rome.
This was a renowmed Tyrant that neuer tooke pleasure in any other thing so much, as to spoyle and robbe others of their goods.
The Romaines that in all their doings were very sage, and of the tyranny of tyrants, sufficiently monished, immediately prepared a great Army to passe into Affricke, and to spoyle the realme, and to destroy the Tyrant by the commandement and decree of the Senate, and that for no pact or couenant the Tyrant should liue. And without doubt this commaundement was iust: For to him that is a destroier of the Common-wealth, it is not punishment inough to take away his life.
At that time there was a Knight in Rome, whose name was Theodosius, a man well strucken in yeares, and yet better approued in warres, but he was not the richest: howbeit hee vaunted himselfe (as truth was) to bee of the bloud of Traian the great Emperour, vpon which occasion, he was greatly honoured and feared in Rome, for the Commons were so noble & gracious towards their Princes, that all those which from the good and vertuous Emperour descended, were of the whole Common-wealth greatly esteemed.
This noble Theodosius was of yeers so auncient, and so honoured in his olde age for his gray hayres, so noble of lynage, and so approued in warres, that he was by the authority of the Emperour Valentinian, by the consent of al the Senate, and by the good wils of the whole people, chosen to to goe to the conquest of Affricke, & truely their reason was good: For Theodosius desired much to fight against that Tyrant Thyrmus, and all the people were glad that such a captaine led the Armie, So this Theodosius imbarked with the Army, departed from Rome, and in fewe dayes arriued at Bona, which was a City greatly replenished with people, situated in a hauen of the Sea in Affricke: And as he and his Army was landed, the tyrant Thyrmus forthwith encamped his Army in the field in the face [Page 81] of the Romaines, and so all being planted in the plame, the one to assault, and the other to defend: immediatly the two Armies ioyned, and the one assaulting the other fiercely, on both sides was great slaughter. So that those which to day were conquered, to morrow did conquere: and those which yesterday were Conquerours, afterward remained conquered. For, in long warres Fortune chaungeth.
In the Prouince of Mauritania, there was a strong Cittie called Obelista, and as the captaine Theodosius, by his force occupyed all the Fielde, the Tyrant Thyrmus fortified himselfe in the Citie, the which valiantly being assaulted of the Captain Theodosius, and almost with his men, entring into the same: The Tyrant Thyrmus, (because hee would not commit himselfe vnto the faith of other men,) slewe himselfe with his proper handes. For the The death of Thyrmus propertie of prowde and disdainefull hearts, is rather to dye in libertie, then to liue in captiuitie.
At that time the Emperour Valent, by the arte of Nigromancie, wrought secretly, to knowe what lucke should succeede in the Romane Empire. And by chaunce a certaine woman, (being an Enchaunteresse,) had answer of the diuel, that that name which with these Letters should bee written, should be successor to the Empire, and the Letters were these, T. E. O D: The Emperour Valent diligently enquired of all the names, which with these iiij. letters could be named? and they found that those signified the Theodotes, the Theodores, and the Theodoses: wherefore Valent forthwith put all those to the sword that were of that name.
Such was the wickednes of the Emperour Valent, supposing they would haue taken the Empire from him beeing aliue. For the tyrannous Prince liueth euer in iealousie and suspition.
The excellent Captaine Theodosius, (the Tyrant Thyrmus being dead, and hauing subdued all Affricke to the Romane The wickednes of Valent. Empire) was burdened that hee was a secret Traytour to the Empire, and that hee compassed to winne the same by tiranny. For this cause therefore, the Emperour Valent gaue sentence he should be beheaded. And this was done, he neuer hearing of it, and much lesse culpable thereof: For all Princes that are wilfull in their doings, are very absolute of theyr sentence. This came to the eares of Theodosius, and seeing that he was condemned to be beheaded, hee sent incontinent for the Byshop of Carthage, of whom hee demaunded the water of holy Baptisme, and so being baptised, and in the Faith of Christ instructed, was by the Hangman put to execurion. Of this so grieuous, outragious, and detestable Fact, euery man iudged this Theodosius, to suffer as an innocent, and that the Emperour Valent had iudged euill, and like a Tyrant. For the innocencie of the good, is the great enemy of the euill.
At the same time, when Theodosius demaunded Baptisme, (according to the saying of Prosper in his chronicle) he said vnto the Bishop, which should Baptise him, these words; O Bishop The death of Theodosius. Saint Roger, I doe Coniure thee, by the Creatour which made vs, and doe desire thee for the Passion of IESƲ CHRIST, who redeemed vs, to giue me the water of Baptisme: For I haue made a vowe to become a Christian, if GOD graunted mee victorie, Wherefore I will accomplish my vowes, for those things which necessitie causeth vs to promise, our owne free will, ought to accomplish. I am sorrie with all my heart that being a Christian, I can liue no longer, and sith it is so, I offer my life for his sake, and into his mercifull hands I commend my soule, I leaue a Sonne of mine who is called Theodosius, and if the Fatherly loue beguyle me not, I thinke he will proue a vertuous and stout young [Page 82] man, and besides that he will bee wise, and sith by thy handes hee hath beene baptized, I require thee holy Father, that thou through thy wisdom wilt bring him vp in the true faith: for if hee be a good Christian, I trust in God hee wil be a great man in the Empire.
This Theodosius was the Father of the great Emperor Theodosius; so that the father was a Christian, and the sonne a Christian.
Not long after the Emperour Valent had caused Theodosius (which was father to the great Emperour Theodosius) to bee executed, Valent by the commandement of God was by the Gothes persecuted, and in the end put to death, and truely this was the iust The iudgement of God. iudgement of God. For he of right should suffer death himselfe, which vniustly procureth the death of others Rufinus in the second booke of his histories, saith, that after the Tyrant Thirmus was put to death by the captaine Theodosius, and that the Emperour Valent had caused this Theodosius to be put to death, and that the same Valent was slaine of the Gothes, the Romaines created a king in Africke, whose name was Hismarus, called for a right Christian in that time, which was from the building of Rome, 377. There was in the City of Carthage a holy Bishop called Silunaus, a man in humane and diuine letters excellently well learned, and sith the King was so iust, and the Bishop so holy, both the faith encreased, and also the affayres of the Common weale prospered: For commonly the warres beginne rather through the pride of the highest, then through disobedience in the lowest. Therefore this holy Bishoppe and good Christian King, being desirous in their time to giue good examples to the subiects, & for the time to come to leaue good precepts, they celebrated in the City of Bona a Councell, with all the Bishops of Affrikce, in the which King Hismarus was in person: For in ancient Councels the Kings were not onely there in persons, but also all the Lords and high Estates of theyr Realmes.
Amongst many excellent things which Rufinus mentioneth that were ordayned in this place, it seemed good vnto me to remēber heere these few, to the end Christian Princes now present, may see what deuoute Christians those Kings were in times past.
A collection or purport of the Counsell of Hyponense.
THese were the thinges which in the sacred Councell of Hyponense were ordayned, where there was in person the Catholike King Hismarus, and the religious Bishoppe Siluanus, and in that which was ordained, the King spake in some of them, and doth counsell in other some: because in such semblable affayres, it is both meete and requisite, that the royall preheminence be reuerenced, and the authority of the Church not diminished.
We ordaine that from two yeares to two yeares, all the Bishoppes, Abbots, and The lawes ordained by the Counsel of Hyponense. Prelates of our Realme doe assemble, and celebrate a Prouinciall counsell, and that in this counsell there be no temporall matters spoken of, but of the disorders and misgouernances of Churches: For the Church is not lost for the lacke or scarsitie of Money, but for the too great aboundance of riches.
We ordaine, that all Prelates which are now and shall be hereafter, wee desire that when they will call any counsell in our [Page 83] Realmes, that before the celebration of the same they certifie vs, lest vnder that colour or cloake of a holy Counsel, there should some suspicious Assemblie bee had.
Wee ordaine that from henceforth the Princes and great Lords be bound to repaire to the sacred Counsell, with all the company of the holy Bishops. For it were more meete they should come to destroy false Heretickes, in winning their soules, then to fight against their Enemyes, in losing theyr liues.
Wee ordaine that the Prince which commeth not to the counsels through negligence, that vnto him the Sacrament of the Bodie of Christ be not ministred, vntill the next counsell be celebrated. And if perchance hee refuse not to come through negligence, but through malice, wee will that they proceed against him as a suspect person in the Faith of Christ, For the Christian Prince that of malice only committeth an offence is not perfite in the holie Catholike Faith.
Wee ordaine, that at the first assemblie of the Counsell, all the Prelates together openly, and afterwards eache one by himselfe priuately shall say the Creede singing, the which thing finished, the King himselfe alone shall say the Creede likewise. For if the Prince be suspected of the holy Catholike Faith, it is vnpossible that his people should bee good Christians.
Wee ordaine, that in this Counsell the Prelates haue libertie and authortie to say vnto the King that that is comely and decent: and the King likewise to say in the Counsell what he thinketh best, so that the Prelates might tell the King without feare of his little care, he hath in destroying the Heretickes, and Heresies of his Realme: and likewise the King might tell the Prelates their negligence that they vse in the charge of their flocke. For the end and intention of Counsells ought not to be any otherwise then a scourge for offences past, and a reformation of the euils to come.
We ordaine, that all the Princes of Affricke, immediately before they doe any other thing in the morning, doe openly and diligently come to Morning prayer. What is required of euery true Christian. And wee will also, that there be present all his Courtiers, and priuate Counsellors, which with thē ought to enter into counsell. For that creature cannot giue any good counsell, who hath not reconciled himselfe vnto God before
Wee ordaine that the Archbishops, Bishops, and Abbottes, continually, during the time of the counsell, doe euery day confesse themselues to Almighty God, seruing him deuoutly: and that one of them doe preach vnto the people Gods word. For if euery Prelate bee bound to giue good example alone, then beeing all together, they shall giue it much better.
Wee ordaine, that Princes (as much as lyeth in them) doe giue vnto their subiects good examples, and that on the Sabboth day in especiall and other Feastiualldayes, they repayre vnto the Cathedrall Church, to heare diuine Seruice: and there reconciling themselues to God, that they do publikely, in the presence of the congregation, receyue the holy Communion and Supper of the Lord. For it would bee a great slander to Princes, which ought to reprehend others of theyr faultes, that a man should neuer see them come to the Church, and be partakers of the holy Sacrament.
Wee ordaine, that al Easter chiefly Princes doe goe to the church Cathedrall, and that the Metropolitane bee there in person, to celebrate the holy Communion: and the Gospell beeing said, the Prince himselfe shalbe bound to say with a lowde voyce the Creede, confirmed in the sacred counsell of Nicene: For that good Princes ought not only in theyr hearts to befaithful vnto IESƲS CHRIST, but are also bound openly with theyr mouthes to confesse it before the people.
Wee ordaine, that Princes be not so hardie, to haue in their Court aboue two Bishops: the one to giue him ghostly counsell, [Page 84] and the other to preach vnto him the word of God. And those we will that the Councell assigne vnto him, and that they bee bound to finde two persons of the most ancient and vertuous, which shall remaine in the Court no more but two yeares, and that afterwards others be placed there in their steades: For there is nothing more monstrous, then to see the Church long without Prelates
CHAP. XXVIII. What a godly thing it is to haue but one Prince to rule the publike weale: for there is no greater enemie to the common weale, then hee which procureth many to commaund therein, as by reasons following it shall be proued,
OFt times with my selfe alone I consider, that sith the diuine prouidence, which dooth all No respect of persons with God. things by weight & measure, and that of her, and none other all creatures are ruled and gouerned, and that furthermore with God, there is no exception of persons; for hee maketh the one rich, and the other poore: the one sage, and the other simple: the one whole, and the other sicke, the one fortunate, and the other vnlucky: the one seruant, and the other master: And let no man maruell though I muse thereat: for the variety of time is the beginner of dissentions among the people.
In mans iudgement it seemeth, that it were better all were alike in apparrell, all equall in commaunding, none greater then others in possessions, all to content themselues with one kind of meate, and that the names commaunding and obeying were vtterly abolished & brought to naught. So that if the miseries of the one, and prosperities of the other, were put out from that day forward, I protest there should bee no enuy in the World.
Laying aside mans opinion (which ought not to be compared to the diuine mystery;) I demand now what reason sufficed to thinke, that of two brethren (that is to say, Iacob and Esau, both children of holy and deuout persons) the diuine prouidence would the one should be chosen, and the other despised, that the one should commaund and the other obey, the one to be disinherited beeing the eldest, and the other to inherite being the youngest? That which chaunced to Iacob with Esau, the same chaunced to the children of Iacob and Ioseph: who being partaker and chosen, God prouided and ordayned that to Ioseph beeing the youngest, his brethren should serue and obey him.
This thing was repined at of all the eleuen brethren, howbeit their intentions auayled not: for it is vnpossible for mans malice to disorder that, which the diuine prouidence hath Man may purpose, but God disposeth. appointed: wee see dayly nothing else but that which man decreeth in a long time God disposeth otherwise in one moment. Truly it is not euill done, but well ordained. For in the end, sith man is man, in few things hee can be eyther certaine or assured: and sith God is God, it is vnpossible that in any thing hee should erre. It is a great benefite of the Creator, to bee willing to reforme and correct the words of the Creatures. For if God would suffer vs to doe after our owne mindes, wee should bee quite contrary to his pleasure.
God without a great mistery did not ordayne, that in one family there should bee but one Father, among one people there should be but one [Page 85] Cittizen that should commaund, in one Prouince there should be but one Gouernour alone, and also that one King alone should gouerne a prowde Realme, and also that by one onely Captaine a puissant Armie should be ledde.
And furthermore and aboue all, he willeth that there bee but one Monarchiall King and Lord of the Worlde: Truely all these things are such, that wee with our eyes doe see them, and know them not: wee heare them with our eares, and vnderstand them not: we speake them with our tongues, and knowe not what wee say. For truely mans vnderstanding is so dull, that without doubt he is ignorant of more then he knoweth.
Appolonius Thyaneus compassing the most part of Asia, Affrike, and Europe: That is to say, from the bridge of Nilus, where Alexander was, vnto Gades where the pillers of Hercules were, hee beeing one day in Ephese, in the Temple of Diana, the Priestes asked him, what thing hee wondered at most in all the world? For it is a general rule, that men which haue seene much, alwayes doe note one thing aboue another.
Although the Phylosopher Appolonius greatlyer esteemed the workes, then the speaking of them that demanded the question, yet foorthwith hee made them this answere.
I let you know Priests of Diana, that I haue bin throughout France, England, Spayne, Germanie, through the Laces The speech of Appolonius. and Lydians, Hebrues & Greeks, Parthes & Medes, Phrygians, and Corinthiās, and so with the Persians, & aboue in all the great Realme of India: For that alone is more woorth then all these Realms together. I will you vnderstand that all these Realmes in many and sundry things doe differ, as in languages, persons, beasts, mettals, waters, flesh, customs, Lawes, Lands, buildings, in Apparell, and Forts, and aboue all, diuers in their Gods and Temples,
For the Language of the one differeth not so much from the language of the other, as the Gods of Europe, differ from the Gods of Asia, and the Temples and Gods of Asia and Europe, differ from them of Affricke. Amongst all things which I haue seene, of two onely I did maruell, which is, that in all the parts of the world wherein I haue trauailed, I haue seene quiet men troubled by seditious persons: the humble, subiect to the proude: the iust, obedient to the Tyrant. I haue seene the cruell, commaunding the mercifull: the coward ruling the hardie, the ignorant teaching the wise: and aboue all, I saw that the most Thieues did hang the innocent on the gallowes.
The other thing whereat I maruelled, was this, That in all the places and A wort saving, [...] worthie obseruation. where I haue bene, I knowe not, neyther could I finde any man that was euerlasting, but that all are mortall, and in the end both high and low haue an ende: For manie are layd too night in theyr graue, which the next Day following thought to bè aliue.
Leaue aside the diuine iudgement, in that hee spake, hee said highly, and like a Philosopher: for it seemeth to bee a pleasant thing, to see how men gouerne the World.
Therefore now to the matter: It is but reason we know the cause of this so ancient a noueltie, which is, That God willeth and ordayneth, that one onely command all, and that all together obey one. For there is nothing that God doeth (although the cause thereof bee vnknowne vnto vs), that wanteth reason in his Eternall wisedome.
In this case (speaking like a Christian, I say) that if our Father Adam had What we lost by the fall of Adam. obeyed one onely Commaundement of Almightie GOD, which was forbidden in the Terrestriall Paradise, we had remained in liberty vpō the earth, [Page 86] and should haue bin Lords and maisters ouer all; But sith hee would not then obey the LORD, wee are now become the abiects and slaues of so many Lords.
Oh wicked sinne, accursed be thou, sith by thee onely the Worlde is brought into such a bondage: without teares I cannot speake that which I would, that through our first Fathers, (which submitted themselues to sinne) we their childrē haue lost the Seignoric of the world. For sith they were prisoners vnto sinne in their soules little auaileth the libertie of their bodies.
There was great diuersitie betwixt the opinions of Pythagoras, and the opinions of Socrates, for so much as those of Socrates schoole said: That it were better all things should be common, and all men equall.
The other of Pythagoras schole saide The difference of opinions. the contrarie: And that the Commonwealth were better, wherein each one had his owne proper, and all should obey one, so that the one of them did admitte and graunt the name of seruants, and the others did despise the name of Lords,
As Laertius in his first booke of the lise of Phylosophers, saide: that the Phylosopher Demosthenes was also of the same opinion, that to the ende the people should be well gouerned, hee would two names should be vtterly abolished, and taken away: That is to say, Lords and subiects, Maisters and seruants: For, the one desirous to rule by fiercenesse, and the others not willing to obey to tyrannie, would shed the bloud of the innocent, and would be violent against the poore: They would destroy the renowmed, and famous people, and Tyrannie would waxe stoute, the which things should be taken away, if there were no seignorie, nor seruitude in the world: But notwithstanding these things, the Philosopher in his first booke of his Pollitiques, saith: That by foure naturall reasons wee may prooue it to be very necessarie, that Princes doe commaund, and the people obey.
The first reason is, of the parts of the Elements, simple, and mixt. For wee see by experience, that the Elements doe suffer, (to the ende they would be ioyned together) the one to haue more power then all: the which is shewed by experience. Forasmuch as the Element of the Fire, the Element of the Ayre, and the Element of the Water doe obey, the Element of the Earth doth commaund.
For against their nature he bringeth them all to the Earth. But if all the noble and chiefest Elements were obedient to the most vile Element, only to forme a bodie mixt, it is a greater reason, that all obey to one vertuous person, that the Common-wealth might therby the better be gouerned,
The second reason is, of the bodie and the soule, in the harmonie wherof the Soule is the mistresse which commaundeth, The soule mistresse of the body. and the bodie the seruant, which obeyeth: For the bodie neyther seeth, heareth, nor vnderstandeth without the bodie.
The sage Philosopher by this inferreth, that the sage men should naturally be Lords ouer others. For in the world there is nothing more monsterous, then that Fooles should commaund, and wise men obey.
The third reason taketh his ground on beasts: For wee see by experience, that diuers beasts by the onely knowledge of men are gouerned: therefore it is but meete that many men, which are more liker Beastes then the beasts themselues, do suffer themselues to be gouerned and ruled by wise men. For the Commonweale is more profited by a brute beast, then it is by witles men. The 4. reason proceedeth of women: For we see, that they being created to the image of GOD, God cōmandeth & ordaineth, that they should be subiect to man, presupposing their knowledge [Page 87] not to be so great, as the knowledge of men. Therefore if this thing bee thus, why could not diuers mortasl men (who without comparison know lesse then women) take themselues for happy, that one alone would commaund and gouerne them: so that such a one were a sage and vertuous person.
Sith man is naturally politique, which is to bee a friend of company: the company engendreth enuie, and afterwardes discord nourisheth war, and warre bringeth in tyranny, and tyranny destroyeth the Commonwealth: and the Common-wealth being lost, all men thinke their liues in perill.
Therefore it is very necessary, that in the Common-wealth many bee gouerned by one alone: For to What is required in the gouernemēt of the common wealth. conclude, There is no Commonwealth well gouerned but by one alone. The great trauels and inconueniences which the Auncients found in times past, were the occasision that it was ordayned in the publike weale, that all should obey one: Sith that in a Campe one onely Captaine is obeyed, and in the Sea one Pilot followed, In the Monastery all obey one Prelate, and in the Church all obey one Bishoppe; and since in a Hiue of Bees, one Bee onely leadeth all the rest: It were not reason that men should bee without one King, nor the Common-wealth without a Gouernour.
These men that will not haue a King in a Common-wealth, are like vnto drones and waspes, which without trauell eate the sweate of others. And my opinion in this case should be, that euery man that will not bee commanded, as an abiect of the common weale should bee expulsed and cast out thereof: For in a commonwealth there can bee no greater enemie then hee that desireth that many should rule therein. In that publike Weale, where one alone hath care for all, and all obey the commandements of one onely, there God shall bee serued, the people shall profit, the good shal bee esteemed, and the euill despised, and besides the Tyrantes shall bee suppressed. For a gouernance of many is not profitable, vnlesse they refer themselues to the iudgement of a few, and to the arbitrement of one alone. Oh how many people & realms (because they would not obey their Princes by iustice) haue since by cruell tyrants been gouerned with tyranny: For it is euen a iust plague, that they which desire the scepters of righteous Princes, should feele and proue the scourge of cruell tyrants. Alwaies it was, and shall be, that in the world, there was one to command, another to obey, one to gouerne, and another to be gouerned.
In this case let no man say, I am excepted: for vntill this day there hath no Prince nor Knight bin seene, but hath trauelled vnder this yoake: I warne and pray, and importunately require you all, that you be loyall, and faithfull seruants, to the end you may deserue to haue louing Lords: For the Prince that is wicked causeth his subiects to rebel, & the seditious subiect maketh his Lord becom a tyrant. It is a great thing to the people, their Princes be good or euill: For there are no Princes so stable, that alwayes wil disemble the euill: nor there is no gouernor so very a tyrant, but somtimes will acknowledge God suffereth euill Gouernors for the offences of the people. the good. Oftentimes God suffereth that there be Emperors in the Empire, Kings in Realms, Lords in Cities, and Prelates in Churches, not all only as the Common wealth desireth, nor as the good gouernment requireth, but as the offence of the multitude deserueth: For we see many that haue the charge of soules, which deserue not to keepe the sheepe: That to be true, plainly appears: [Page 88] For such doe not gouerne but disorder, they doe not defend but offend: they doe not resist the enemies, but engage and fell the innocent: they are no Iudges but Tyrants: they are not gentle Pastors but cruell Hangmen: they are not encreasers of the Common-wealth, but destroyers of Iustice: they are not ordayners, of the Lawes but inuentors of tributes: their hearts wake not to good, but to inuent and worke all mischiefe. And finally, God sendeth vs such Prelates and Gouernours, not for that they should bee Ministers of his lawes, but for that they should bee scourgers of our offences.
CHAP. XXIX, That in a publike weale there is no greater destruction then where Princes dayly consent to new orders, and change olde customes.
IN the first booke of the Kings, the 8. Chapter, of the holy 1 Reg. 8. and sacred scripture is sayde: that Samuel (when hee was olde) in his stead placed his two sonnes to gouerne the people, whose names were Iohel and Abiah, for that naturally the Fathers are desirous to aduance their childrē to honour.
The sonnes of Samuel were resident and held the iudgement in the City of Beersheba, which was the furthest part of Iudea, and the olde Samuel went to dwell in the City Ramah. The honourable and most auncient men, (among the people of Ierusalem) assembled together, and decreede to send Ambassadours to Samuel, which should bee the wisest men of all the Synagogue: for the ancients in those dayes were so circumspect, that they neuer committed any affayres in the common wealth into the handes of young men. The Ancients then being arriued at Ramah, spake these words vnto Samuel.
Samuel, thou art now olde, and for thy yeares thou canst not gouern the people, therefore thou like a pittifull Father hast committed the gouernement of the people into the hands of thy children.
Wherfore we let thee know in this case, that thy children are couetous. First, they doe receyue bribes of the suters. And secondarily, they doe great iniurie to the people: Therefore wee are come to require thee to giue vnto vs a King that may gouerne vs, and that might leade vs in battell: for we will no more Iudges to iudge vs, but Kings for to gouerne vs.
The aged Samuel hearing the ambassage, was ashamed of that the Ancients of Iudea had tolde him: first seeing his children to bee euill: Secondarily, because they would take their offices from them, And truely herein Samuel had iust occasion, both to bee ashamed, and also sorry.
For the enormities, vices and wickednesse of the young children The folly of youth. are swords that passe through the hearts of the old and auncient Fathers. Samuel seeing that the Hebrewes were determined to depriue them of their office, and gouernement of the people, had none other remedy but euen to make his mone to God of his griefe, and God hearing his complaints, said vnto him: Samuel. Be not sad, nor lament not, for their demaunding a King (as they doe) they doe not mislike thy person, but they disprayse my prouidence, and maruell not though they forsake thy children, for they are somewhat too young, sith they haue forsaken mee their God, and worship false Idols. Sith they demaund a King. I haue determined to giue them [Page 89] one, but first tell to them the conditions of the King, which are these.
The King whom I will giue you, shall take your Children, with your Charriots and beasts, and shall send them loaden with burdens. And yet therewith not contented, hee shall make your children poastes by the way, Tribunes and Centurions in his Battells, and shal make them labourers and gardeners in his gardens, he shal make them sow his seeds, & paste his bread, and furbish his harnes, and Armor.
You shall haue besides both delicate and tender daughters, the which you shall little enioy: For the King that I will giue you, shall commaund them to keepe and attend The power and [...] of a King. those that are wounded in the wars, hee shall make them Cookes in his Pallace, and Caters of his expences.
The King that I will giue you, if hee handle your Sonnes and Daughters euil, much worse hee will handle your goods. For on the beasts and fertile Fieldes that you haue his Heard shall feede, he shal gather the best grapes of your vines, he shall choose of your Oliue trees the best olyues and oyles. And if any fruit afterwards remaine in your fieldes, hee will they shall bee gathered, not by you, but of his workemen: And afterwards the King that I wil giue you shal oppresse you much more.
For of euery pecke of corne, you shal giue him one, of ten sheepe you must needes giue him one: so that of all things which you shal gather against your wils, you shal giue the tenth. Of your Slaues the King shall be serued sooner then you: and he shall take all your Oxen that labour, and trauaile in your owne Possessions, and shall bring them to plough in his owne ground and tenements. So that you shall pay tribute, & the King shall take his owne profit, for the wealth and commoditie of his Pallace.
And all this which I haue rehearsed before, the King shall haue whom I will giue you. The Historie which here I haue declared, is not Ouid, nor yet the Eglogges of Ʋirgil, nor yet the fayning of Homer; but it is the sentence and the very word of God.
O mortall ignoraunce, that wee demaund and know not why nor wherefore, to whom nor where, neither whē wee demaund, which causeth men to runne into sundry errours. For fewe men are so wise that they offend not in choosing, and that they can aske with reason. The folly of men.
The Hebrewes asked (as they thinke) the better, and GOD giueth them the worse, they aske one to gouern them, and God giueth them a Tyrant to destroy them: they aske one that should maintaine them in Iustice, and hee threatneth them with tyrannie: they require one that shuld giue them, and hee giueth them one which robbeth them: They require one to deliuer them from bondage, & hee ordaineth one to keepe them as slaues.
And finally, the Hebrewes trusting to be deliured of their Iudges, which ruled not according to their appetits. God shal giue thē a king that shal take away their goods from them by force.
Oh how many times ought wee to pray vnto GOD, to giue vs Princes in our Common-wealth, and Prelates in our Churches, which doe knowe how to gouerne vs, and minister vnto vs: How much we are boūd to pray vnto God for good Gouernors. not according to the weight of our soule, but according to the measure of his mercie?
Plato saith in the first booke of lawes, that one of the most Excellent lawes which the Siciones had in theyr Prouince, was, to keepe their Cities, that they should not chaunge nor alter any thing therein.
Truely those Barbarous were sage, in theyr doing: and Plato was very discreete to commende them therein; For nothing destroyeth a Commonwealth sooner then to suffer chaunges ofttimes therein.
All these things seemed to bee true in the Hebrues, the which in their gouernment were very rash and vndiscrete.
[Page 90] For first they gouerned themselues by Patriarckes, as Abraham was. After they were gouerned by Prophets, as Moses. By Captaines, as Iosuab: by Iudges, as Gedeon: by Kings, as Dauid: and after they gouerned themselues by Byshops, as Abdias was, and in the ende the Hebrewes not contented with all these, GOD suffered that they should fal into the hāds of Antichus, Ptholomeus, & Herodes, all Tirants.
This punishment fell (according to the iust iudgement of God) vpon them for theyr offences: for it was euen meete, that they that would not enioy the pleasant libertie of Iudea, should taste the cruell seruitude of Babylon.
The condition which chaunced in the gouernment, to the vnconstant Hebrewes, the same happened vnto the proud Romains. The which in the beginning of their Empire were gouerned by Kings: afterwards by x. men: The gouernment of Rome. Then by the Consuls: so by the Dictators: by the Censors: and afterwards, by the Tribunes, and Senators: and in the ende, they came to be gouerned by Emperours, and tyrannous Princes. The Romaines inuented all these alterations in their gouernmēts, for none other cause, but to see whether they could be deliuered from the commaundement of another. For the Romains in this case were so proud harted, that they had rather dye in libertie, then liue in captiuitie: God had so ordained it, and their wofull case did so promise it, when they were aboue all other Kings and Realmes of the Earth, that then the slaue should be obedient to his yrons, and the subiect should acknowledge the homage to his Master. And though that subiects doe moue warres, though Kings also do winne Realms, and Emperors conquer Empires: yet wil they, or nill they, both great and small, should acknowledge themselues for seruants.
For during the time of our fleshly life, we can neuer withdraw our selue from the yoke of seruitude. And say not you Princes, for that you are puissant Princes, that you are exempted from seruitude of men. For without doubt it is a thing more vntollerable, to haue theyr hearts burdened with thoughts, then their necks loden with The care of Princes. yrons.
If a slaue be good, they take from him some yrons: but to you that are Princes, the greater you are, the greater cares you haue. For the prince that for his Common-wealth taketh care, hath not one momēt of an houre quiet. A slaue hopeth to be deliuered in his life, but you cannot looke to be deliuered till after your death. They lay yrons on the slaue by weight, but thoughts burden you without measure. For the wofull hart is more burdened with one houre of care, then the body is pressed with twēty pound of yron. A slaue or prisoner if hee be alone, many times fyleth off his yrons but you Princes when you are alone, are more grieuously tormented with thoughts: For solitary places are Arbours and Gardeins, to wofull and heauie hearts.
A slaue hath nothing to care for but himselfe alone: but you that be princes haue to satisfie and please all men, For the Prince should haue a time for himselfe, and also for those which are about him.
The diuine Plato said well, that hee that should haue the least parte of a Prince, and belonging to a Prince, ought to be the Prince himselfe. For to that ende the Prince should bee all his owne, he ought to haue no part in himselfe.
Though a slaue work & trauel in the day, yet he sleepes without care in the night: but you Princes passe the time in hearing importunate suites, and the nights in fetching innumerable sighs.
[Page 91] Finally, I say, that in a slaue (be it well, or be it euill) all his paine is finished in one yeare, or is ended at his death; but what shall a wofull Prince doe when he dyeth. If he were good there is but a short memory of his goodnesse: and if hee hath beene euill, his infamy shall neuer haue end.
I haue spoken these things to the end that great and small, Lords and seruants should confesse and acknowledge, the true Seigniory to be onely vnto him, who for to make vs Lords aboue, became a seruant heere beneath.
CHAP. XXX. When the Tyrants beganne to ratgne, and vpon what occasion commaunding, and obeying first begann. And how the authority which the Prince hath, is by the ordinance of God.
CEasing to speake any further of the Poeticall Histories, and auncient faynings, and speaking the truth, according to the diuine Histories, the first that did liue in this World, was our Father Adam, who did eate of the fruite forbidden, and that not so much for to trespasse the commaundement of one, as for not to displease his wife Eue: For many now a dayes, had rather suffer theyr conscience a long time to bee infected: then one onely day to see theyr wiues displeased.
The first homicide of the worlde was Caine: The first that dyed in the World was Abel: The first that had two wiues in the World was Lamech. The first City of the World was by Enoch built in the fields of Edon: The first Musition was Tubalcaim: The first which sayled in the World, was Noe: The first Tyrant of the World was Nembroth: The first Priest was Melcrisedech: The first King of the World was Anraphel: The first Duke was Moyses: The first which was called Emperour in the World, was Iulius Caesar. For vntill this time, they which gouerned, were called Consuls, Censors and Dictators. And from Iulius Caesars hitherto haue beene called Emperours.
The first battell that was giuen in the world (as wee reade) was in the wilde valleyes, which now they call the dead and salt sea: For a great part of that, that then was the maine land is novv the dead sea. The holy Scriptures cannot deceyue vs, for it is full of all truth, and by them it is declared, that eighteene hundred yeares after the World beganne, there was no battell assembled, nor company that met to fight in the field: for at that time when they had no ambition nor couetousnesse, they knew not what battell meant.
It is reason therefore that in this writing we declare the cause, why the first battell was fought in the world, to the end Princes may thereof bee aduertised, and the curious Reader remaine therein satisfied.
The manner was this, that Bassa being King of Sodome, Bersa King of The reason why warres first began. Gomorrhe, Senaab King of Adamee Semebar King of Seboime, and Vale King of Segor, were all fiue Tributaries to Chodor Lanmor King of the Elamites, which fiue Kings conspired against him, because they would pay him no tribute, and because that they would acknowledge no homage vnto him. For the realmes paying tribute, haue alwayes rebelled and sowed sedition.
This rebellion was in the 13, [Page 92] yeare of the raigne of Chodor Laomor, King of the Elamites, and immediately the yeare following, Anraphel king of Sernaar, Arioch king of Ponte, and Aradal King of the Allotali, ioyned with Chodor Laomor. All which together beganne to make warres, to destroy Cities and Countries vpon their enemies.
For the olde malice of the warre is, That where they cannot haue their enemies which are in the fault, they put to sacke and destroy those which are innocent and guiltlesse.
So the one assaulting, and the other desending, in the end all come to the field, they gaue battell as two enemies, and the greatest part was ouercome of the fewest, and the fewest remayned victorious ouer the greatest, which thing God would suffer in the first battell of the world, to the end Princes might take example, that all the mishappes of the Warres come not, but because they are begun of an vniust occasion.
If Chodor Laomor had helde himselfe contented as his Predecessors did, and that hee had not conquered Realmes in making them subiect, and had not caused them to pay tribute, neyther they vnto him would haue denyed reason: nor hee with them would haue waged battell. For thorow the couetousnesse of the one, and the ambition of the other, enmities grew betweene the people.
This considered which wee haue spoken of Sygnorie, and of those which came into contentions for signories.
Let vs now see from whence the first originall of seruitude came, and the names of seruantes and Lordes How seruitude began. which were in the old time, and whether seruitude was by the discorde of vertuous men, first brought into the World, or else inuented by the ambition of tyrants: for when the one commaundeth, and the other obeyeth, it is one of the nouelties of the world, as the holy Scripture declareth vnto vs in this manner. The holy Patriarch Noah had three sons, which were Sam, Ham, and Iaphet: and the second sonne (which was Ham) begot Cusn, and this Cusn begotte Nimrod, Nimrod made himselfe a Hunter of wilde beasts in the woodes and mountaines: Hee was the first that beganne to play the Tyrant amongst men, enforcing their persons and taking their goods: and the Scripture called him Oppressor hominum, which is to say, an Oppressor The first tyrant that euer was. of men: For men of euill life alwaies commit much euill in a Commonwealth.
He taught the Chaldeans to honor the fire, hee was the first that presumed to be an absolute Lord, and the first that euer required of men homage and seruice.
This cursed tyrant ended his life in the golden World, wherein all things were in common, with the Common-wealth: For the Auncients vsed their goods in common: but their wils onely they reserued to themselues. They ought not so thinke in a light matter, for his persō to haue been a tyrant, but they ought to think it a greater matter, to haue beene a rebel in a Common-wealth: & much more they ought to esteeme it as an euill matter in him, which hath beene (as hee was) a disturber of the good customes of his country: but the most vniust of all is, to leaue behind him any euil custom brought into the common wealth: for if hee deserue great infamy which worketh euil in his life: truly he deserueth much more, which trauelleth to bring that euill in vre after his death. Eusebius seemeth to affirm, that after Nimrod had destroied the realm of Chaldea by his plagues, came to Italy with 8. sons, & built the [Page 93] of Camesa, which afterwards, in Saturnes time was called Valentia, and in the time of Romulus it was called as it is at this present, Rome. And sith this thing was thus, a man ought not to maruell, that Rome in auncient time was possessed with Tyrants, and with Tyrants beaten downe, since by so so famous and renowmed tyrants it was founded. For euen as Hierusalem was the daughter of the patient, and the mansion of the quiet Kinges in Asia: so was Rome the mother of proude Princes in Europe.
The Histories of the Gentiles, (which knew not the holy Scripture) declare in an other sort the beginning of signorie and seruitude, and when they came into the world: for the Idolaters not onely did not know the Creator of the World, but also they were ignorant of many things which beganne in the world. They therfore say, that the Tyrant Nimrod (amongst the others) had a sonne called Belus, and that this Belus was the first that raigned in the land of Syria, and that hee was the first that inuented warres on the earth, and that hee Belus the first inuentor of wars set vp the first Monarche among the Assyrians, and in the end hee dyed after hee had raigned 65. yeares in Asia, and left the world in great wars. The first Monarchie of the world, was that of the Assyrians, and continued 132. yeares.
The first King was Belus, and the last King was Sardanapalus, whome (at that time when he was slain) they found spinning with women, hauing a Distaffe in his hand, wherewith they vse to spinne: and truly his vile death was too good for such a cowardly King: For the Prince ought not to defend that with the Distaffe, that his Predecessors had wonne with the sword.
As wee haue sayde Nimrod begat Belus, who had to wife Semyramis, which was the mother of Ninus, which Ninus succeeded his Father in tyranny, and in the Empire also: and both the Mother and the Sonne not contented to bee tyrants, inuented statues of new Gods: For mans malice pursueth rather the euill, which the wicked doe inuent, then the good which vertuous men begin.
We would haue shewed you, how the Grandfather, and the Father, the Mother and the Sonne, were Idolaters and warlike, to the end Princes and great Lords might see, that they beganne their Empires, more for that they were ambitious persons, then for that they were good, patient, or vertuous men. Albeit that Nimrod was the first that euer committed any tyranny, and whether it bee true or not that Belus was the first that inuented warres, and that Chodor Laormor was the first that inuented battels, and that there bee others, wherof the Writings make no mention, euery man taking for himselfe, and afterwards all together: those vvere occasions of euil enough in the world to agree vnto those thinges. Our inclination is greatly to bee blamed: For those which haue credite for their euill, are many: and those which haue power to doe well, are but very few.
CHAP. XXXI. Of the golden age in times past, and worldly misery which we haue at this present.
IN the first age, and golden world, all liued in peace, each man tooke care for his owne landes, euery one planted & sowed their trees, and corne, euery one gathered his fruites, and cut his vines, knedde their bread, and brought vp their children, and finally, all liued by their own proper sweate and trauell; so that they all liued without the preiudice or hurt of any other.
O worldly malice, O cursed and wicked world, that thou neuer sufferest things to remaine in one estate, and though I call thee cursed, maruell not thereat: for when wee are in most prosperity, then thou with death persecutest vs most cruelly.
Without teares, I say not that I will say, that two thousand yeares of the World were past before we knew what the World meant: God suffering The mutability of the World. it, and worldly malice inuented it, ploughes were turned into weapons, oxen to horses, goades vnto launces, whips to arrowes, slings to Crossebowes, simplicity into malice, trauell into idlenesse, rest to paine, peace to warre, loue to hatted, charity to cruelty, iustice to tyranny, profite to dammage, almes to theft, and aboue all, Faith into Idolatry.
And finally, the swet they had to profite in their owne goods, they turned to bloud-shedding, to the damage of the Common-wealth. And herein the World sheweth it selfe to bee a world: herein worldly-malice sheweth it selfe to bee malicious, in so much as the one reioyceth, and the other lamenteth: the one reioyceth to stumble, to the end that other may fall and breake their neckes, the one reioyceth to bee poore, to the end the other may not bee rich: the one reioyceth to bee dispraysed, to the end the other may not be honoured: the one delighteth to bee sad, to the end the other should not bee merry: And to conclude, wee are so wicked, that wee banish the good from our owne house, to the end the euill might enter in at the gates of an other man.
When the Creator created the whole World, hee gaue to each thing immediately his place: that is to say, hee placed intelligence in the vppermost Heauen: hee placed the starres in the Firmament, the planets in the orbes: the birdes in the ayre: the earth on the Center, the Fishes in the Water, the Serpents in the hoales, the beasts in the mountaines: and to all in generall, he gaue place to rest themselues in.
Now let Princes and great Lords bee vaine-glorious, saying, that they they are Lords of the earth: for truly of all that is created, God onely is the true Lord thereof; because the miserable man for his part hath but the vse of the fruit: for if wee thinke it reasonable that wee should enioy the profite of that which is created: then were it more conuenient wee should acknowledge God to be the Lord thereof.
I doe not deny, but confesse, that God created all things, to the God made al things for the vse of man. end they should serue man vpon condition, that man should serue God likewise: but when the creature ryseth against God, immediately the Creator resisteth against man.
For it is but reason that hee bee [Page 95] disobeyed, who one onely commandement will not obey.
O what euill fortune hath the creature, onely for disobeying the commandement of his Creator: for if man had kept his commaundement in Paradise, God had conserued to the World the signorie: but the Creatures whom he created for his seruice are occasion to him of great troubles: for the ingratitude of benefite heapeth great sorrow to the discreet heart. It is great pity to behold the man that was in Paradise, and that might haue been in Heauen: and now to see him in the world, and aboue all to bee interred in the entrals of the earth: For in Terrestrial Paradise he was innocent, and in heauen he had been blessed; but now he is in the world, enuironed with cares, and afterwards he shall bee throwne into his graue, and gnawne of the Wormes. Let vs now see the disobedience wee had in the commaundement What man loft by Adams fall. of God, and what fruit we haue gathered in the world. For hee is very simple that dare commit any vice, taking no delight nor pleasure thereof in his body. In my opinion through the sinnes which our forefathers committed in Paradise, the seruitude remaineth in vs their children which are on the earth. For so much as if I enter into the water, I drowne, if I touch the fire I burne, if I come neare a dogge, hee biteth mee, if I threaten a horse, hee easteth mee, if I resist the winde it bloweth me downe, if I persecute the serpent, hee spoyleth me, if I smite the beare hee destroyeth me, and to be briefe I say, that the man that without pitty eateth men in his life, the Worms shall eate his entrals in his life after his death.
O Princes and great Lords, lode your selues with cloth of gold, heape vp your great Treasures, assemble many Armies, inuent Iusts and turneis, seeke pastimes and pleasures, reuenge your selues of your enemies, serue your selues with your subiects, marry your children to mighty Kings, and set them in great estate: cause your selues to bee feared of your enemies, imploy your bodies to all pleasures, leaue great possessions to your heyres, rayse sumptuous buildinges to leaue memory of your persons: I sweare by him that shall iudge mee, that I haue more compassion to see your sinfull soules, then I haue enuy to see your vicious liues: for in the end all pastimes will vanish away, and they shall leaue you for a gage to the hungry wormes of the earth.
O if Princes did consider (though they haue beene borne Princes, created A warning for all sorts of people. and nourished in great estates) that the day they are borne, death immediately commeth to seeke the end of their life, and taketh them here and there when they are sicke, now tumbling, then rising; hee neuer leaueth them one houre vntill their wofull buriall: Therefore sith it is true, (as indeed it is) that that which Princes possesse in this life is but small, & that which they hope in the other is so great: Truely I maruell why Princes, the which shall lye so straight in the graue, dare lye in such and so great largenesse in their life. To be rich, to be Lords, and to haue great estates, men should not thereof at all bee proude, since they see how frayle mans condition is: for in the end life is but lone, but death is enheritage. Death is a patrimony and heritage, which successiuely is inherited: but life is a right which dayly is surrendered. For death counteth vs so much his own, that oft times vnawares, hee Nothing so sure as death. commeth to assault vs: & life taketh vs such strangers, that oft times we not doubting thereof, it vanisheth away [Page 95] If this thing then bee true, why will Princes and great Lords presume to commaund a strange house, which is this life, as in their owne house which is the graue? Leauing aside the sayd opinions, I say that for sinne onely scruitude came to dwell in vs, and entered into the world: for if there had beene no sinners, wee ought to beleeue there had beene no Lords, nor seruants. For asmuch as seruitude generally entreth into this World through sinne: I say that the Seigniory of Princes is by the diuine commaundement; for he sayeth: By mee the King doth gouerne, and by mee the Prince doth minister Iustice.
I conclude in this sort, with this reason: That since it is true, Princes are sent by the hands of God for to gouerne vs, Wee are bound in all, and for The reason wee haue to obey our Prince. all to obey them: for there is no greater plague in a publike weale, then to be disobedient to the Prince.
CHAP. XXXII. How King Alexander the great, after hee had ouercome King Datius in Asia, went to conquer the great Indea, and of that which happned vnto him with the Garamantes, and how the good life hath more power then any force of warre.
IN the yeare of the Creation of the World, 4970. in the first age of the World, and in the 4027. yeares of the foundation of Rome, Iado being High Priest in Hierusalew, Decius and Mamilius at Rome Consuls, in the third yeare of the Monarchie of the Greekes, Alexander the Great (sonne to Philip King of Macedonia) gaue the last battell to Darius King of Persia, wherein King Alexander escaped very sore wounded, and Darius slaine, so that the whole Empire of the Persians came vnder the gouernment of the Greeks: For the vnfortunate Princes do not onely lose their liues with which they came into the world, but also the Realmes which they did inherite.
After that Darius was dead, and Alexander saw himselfe Lord of the field, and that the Persians and Medes were become subiect to the Grecians, though many Kings and Lords dyed in those cruell batailes: yet it seemed to Alexander a trifle to be Gouernor of all Asia, wherefore he determined in person to goe conquere the great India. For, Proude and stoute hearts obtayning that which they desire, immediately beginne to esteeme it as little. All The pride of Alexander. his Armies repayred, and placing gouernours in all the Realme of Asia, Alexander departed to conquere the great India: for hee had promised & sworne to his gods, that through all the World there should be but one Empire, and that that should be his: and moreouer that hee would neuer passe thorow any strange Realme or Country, but it should giue obedience vnto him, or else forthwith hee would destroy it: for tyrannous harts haue neuer any regard to the damage of another, vntill they haue obtained their wicked desires.
Alexander then going to conquer Realmes, and destroy Prouinces: by chance one sayde vnto him, That on the other side of the mountaine Riphei (towards the partes of India) was a barbarous Nation which were called Garamantes, as yet neuer conquered by the Persians and Medes, Romaines, nor Greekes, neyther any of them euer triumphed ouer them: for they had no weapons, nor esteemed them not, [Page 97] sith they had no riches.
King Alexander, (who for to conquer and subdue Realmes and strange countreys was very diligent & hardy and to see new things very desirous,) determined, not onely to send to see that countrey, but also to goe himselfe in person, and in that place to leaue of him some Memoriall: which thing forthwith he accomplished. For hee left them Altares, as Hercules left in Gades, pillars. For mans heart is so stout, that it Trauelleth not onely to compare with manie, but also to excell all.
The Embassadours of Alexander were sent to Garamantes, to aduertise them of the comming of King Alexander the great, & of the terrible and cruell battells, which he in the warres had ouercome: and to declare vnto them how the puissant K: Darius was slayne, and that all Asia was vnder his subiection, and how euery Citie did yeelde themselues: against whom he neyther lifted speare nor sword, because all yeelded to his cōmandment. With these and such other like things they would haue feared them, for that words oft times maketh men more afraide, especially when they are spoken of braue stoute men, then doe the swords of cowards.
Lucius Bosco saith, in his third booke of the antiquityes of the Grecians, (of whom the originall of this hystorie is drawne) that after the Embassadours of Alexander had spoken to the Garamantes, they were nothing at all troubled for the message, neither did they fly away from Alexander, nor they prepared any warre, neyther tooke they in hand any weapon, nor yet they did resist him, Yea, and the chiefest of all was, that no man of the Countrey euer departed out of his house.
Finally, they neyther answered the Ambassadors (of Alexander,) to theyr right message, nor yet spake one word vnto them, concerning their coming. And truly the Garamantes had reason therein, and did in that right wisely: For it is but meere follie for a man to perswade those men with words who enterprise any thing of will.
It is a maruellous matter to heare reported the hystories of these Garamantes, (that is to say) that all theyr houses were of equall height, all men were apparelled alike, the one had no more authority then another, in feeding they were no glouttons, in drinking wine they were temperate, concerning pleas and debates, they were ignorant, they would suffer no idle man to liue among them, they had no weapons, because they had no enemyes: and generally, they spake few words, but that which they spake was alwayes true.
King Alexander being somwhat informed of those Garamantes, and their life, determined to send for them, and called them before his presence, and instantly desired them (if they had any wise men among them, to bring them vnto him, and by writing or by word of mouth, to speake somewhat vnto him. For Alexander was such a friend to sage men, that all the realms which he ouercame, immediately he gaue to his men, excepting the Sages, which he kept for his owne person.
Quintus Curtius, by king Alexander sayth, that a Prince doth wel spende his treasors to conquer many Realms, only to haue the conuersation of one wise man. And truely he had reason: for to princes it is more profit in their life to bee accompanied with Sages: then after their deaths, to leaue great treasours to their heires. Certaine of those Garamantes thē being come before the presence of Alex: the great, one among them (as they thoght the most ancientst) himselfe alone (the residue keeping silence,) in the name of them all spake these words.
CHAP. XXXIII. Of an Oration which one of the Sages of Garamantia made vnto King Alexander, a goodly lesson for all ambitious men,
IT is a custome, king Alexander, amongst vs Garamantes, to speake seldome one to another, & scarsely neuer speake to strangers, especially if they be busie and vnquiet men: For, the tongue of an euil man is no other but a plaine demonstration of his enuious heart.
When they tolde vs of thy comming into this countrey, immediately wee determined not to goe out to receyue thee, nor to prepare our selues to resist thee, neyther to lifte vp our eyes to beholde thee, nor to open our mouthes to salute thee, neyther to moue our hands to trouble thee, nor yee to make warre to offend thee. For greater is the hate that we beare to riches and honours, which thou louest, then the loue is that thou hast to destroy men, and subdue Countreyes, which we abhorre.
It hath pleased thee we shuld see thee, not desiring to see thee, and wee haue obeied thee, not willing to obey thee, and that we should salute thee, not desirous to salute thee: wherewith wee are contented, vppon condition, that thou be patient to heare vs. For that which we will say vnto thee, shall tend more vnto amendmēt of thy life, then to disswade thee frō conquering our countrey. For it is reason that Princes which shal come hereafter doe know, why wee liuing so little, esteeme that which is our owne: and why thou dying, takest such paines to possesse that which is another mans.
O Alexander, I aske thee one thing, and I doubt whether thou canst aunswer me thereunto or no? For those hearts which are proud, are also most commonly blinded.
Tell me whether thou goest? from whence thou commest? what thou meanest? what thou thinkest? what thou desirest? what thou seekest? what thou demandest? what thou searchest? A compendious reprehension. and what thou procurest? and further, to what Realms & Prouinces thy disordinate appetite extendeth? Without a cause do I not demand thee this question, what is that thou demandest and what it is that thou seekest: For I think thou thy selfe knowest not what thou wouldest? For proud and ambicious hearts know not what will satisfie them. Sith thou art ambitious, honor deceiueth thee: sith thou art prodigall, couetousnes beguyleth thee: sith thou art yong, ignorance abuseth thee: and sith thou art proude, all the world laugheth thee to scorne: in such sort, that thou followest men and not reason: thou followest thine owne opinion, and not the counsell of an other, thou embracest flatterers, and repulsest vertuous men. For Princes and Noble men had rather bee commended with lyes, thē to be reproued with truth. I cannot tell to what ende you Princes liue so deceyued, and abused, to haue & keepe in your pallaces more flattrers, iuglers, and fooles, then wise and sage men. For in a princes pallace if there bee any which extolleth theyr doings, there are ten thousand which abhorre their tyrannies. I perceiue by these deeds (Alexander) that the gods will sooner end thy life, then then wilt end thy wars. The man that is brought vp in debates, discentions, and strife, all his felicitie consisteth in burning, destroying, and bloud shedding: I see thee defended with weapōs, I see thee accōpanied with tirants, I see thee rob the tēples. I se thee without profit wast the treasors, I see thee murder the Innocent [Page 99] and trouble the patient, I see thee euill willed of all, and beloued of none, which is the greatest euill of all euils. Therefore how were it possible for thee to endure such and so great trauels, vnlesse thou art a foole, or else because God hath appointed it to chastice thee.
The Gods suffer oftentimes that men being quiet. should haue some weighty affayres, and that is not for that they should be honoured: at this present, but to the end they should be punished for that which is past.
Tell mee I pray thee, peraduenture it is no great folly to empouerish many, to make thy selfe alone rich? It is not (peraduenture) folly that one should commaund by tyranny, and that all the rest lose the possession of their Seigniory. It is not folly perchance to loue (to the damnation of our soules) many memories in the world of our body. It is not folly perchance that the Gods approue thy disordinate appetite alone, and condemne the will and opinion of all the World beside: peraduenture it is not folly, to winne with the tears of the poore, and comfortlesse widdowes) so great and bloudy victories: peraduenture it is no folly, willingly to wet the earth with the bloud of Innocents, onely to haue a vaine glorie in this World? Thou thinkest it no folly peraduenture (God hauing diuided the World into so many people) that thou shouldest vsurpe them to thee alone? O Alexander, Alexander, truly such workes proceede not from a creature nourished among men on the earth: but rather of one that hath beene brought vp among the infernall Furies of Hell: for wee are not bound to iudge men by the How wee ought to iudge of men. good nature they haue: but by their good and euill works which they do.
The man is cursed (if hee haue not been cursed, hee shalbe cursed) that liueth to the preiudice of all others in this world present, onely to be counted couragious, stoute, and hardie, in time to come. For the gods seldome suffered them to enioy that quietly in peace, which they haue gotten vniustly in the warres.
I would aske thee, what insolencie moued thee to reuolte against the lord K. Darius? after whose death thou hast sought to conquer all the world? and thus thou doest not as a King that is an inhertitor, but as a tyrant, that is an oppressor, For him properly we cal a tirant, that without iustice & reason taketh that which is another mans.
Eyther thou searchest iustic, or thou searchest peace, or else thou searchest riches, and our honor? Thou searchest rest, or els thou searchest fauour of thy frends, or thou searchest vengeance of The propertie of a tyrant. thine enemies. But I sweare vnto thee (Alex:) that thou shalt not find any of all these things, if thou seekest by this meanes, as thou hast begun: For the sweet Sugar is not of the nature of the bitter gumbe. How shall wee belieue thou searchest iustice, sith against reason and iustice, by Tiranny thou rulest al the earth? how shal we belieue thou searchest peace, sith thou causest them to pay tribute which receiue thee: and those which resist thee, thou handlest thē like enemies? How can we belieue that thou searchest rest, sith thou troublest all the world? How can wee belieue thou searchest gentiles, sith thou art the scourge and sword of humaine frailnes? how can we belieue that thou searchest riches, sith thine owne Treasures suffiseth thee not: neyther that which by thee vāquished cōmeth into thy hands, nor that which the conque rors offer thee? How shall we belieue thou searchest profit to thy friēds, sith that of thy old friends, thou hast made new enemies? I let thee vnderstand (Alex:) that the greatest ought to teache the least, & the least to obey the greatst
[Page 100] And Friendship is onely amongst equalls. But thou, (sith thou sufferest none in the World to bee equall and like vnto thee, looke not thou to haue any Friend in the world. For Princes oftentimes by ingratitude loose faithfull Friends: and by ambition winne mortall enemies.
How shall we belieue thou searchest reuēge of thine enemies, sith thou takest more vengeance of thy selfe, beeing aliue, then thine enemyes would take of thee, if they tooke thee prisoner? though perchance in times past they vsed thy Father Philip euill, and haue now disobeyed thee his Sonne: It were farre better counsel for thee to make them thy Friends by gentlenes, then to confirme them Enemyes by crueltie. For the Noble and pitifull harts when they are reuenged of any, make of themselues a butcherie.
Wee cannot with truth say, that thy Trauells are well employde to winne such honor, sith thy conuersation and life is so vnconstant? For truely honour consisteth not in that Flatterers say, but in that which Lords doe. For the great Familiaritie of the wicked, causeth the life to be suspected.
Honour is not gotten by liberall giuing of Treasours at his death, but by spending it well in his life: For it is a sufficient In what true Honor consisteth. profe, that the man which esteemeth renowme, doth little regard Money: and it is an apparant token, that man who little esteemeth Money, greatly regardeth his renowme.
A man winneth not honor by murdering Innocents, but by destroying Tyrants: for all the harmony of the good gouernment of princes is, in the chastising How a Prince must winne honour. of the euil, & rewarding the good.
Honour is not wonne in taking and snatching the goods of an other, but in giuing and spending his owne.
For there is nothing that beautifieth the Maiestie of a Prince more, then for to shew his noblenes in extending mercie and fauour vnto his subiects, and giuing gifts and rewards to the vertuous.
And to conclude, I will let thee know who hee is, that winneth true honour in this life: and also: a perpetuall memorie after his death: and that is not hee which leadeth his life in Warres, but hee that taketh his death in peace.
O Alexander, I see thou art young, and that thou desirst honour, wherefore I let thee vnderstand, that there is no man farther from true honor, then hee which greedily procureth and desireth the same. For the ambitious men, not obtaining what they desire, remaine alwaies defamed, and in winning and getting that which they search, true honour notwithstanding will not follow them.
Belieue mee in one thing Alexander, that the most truest honor ought through worthie deedes to bee deserued, and by no meanes to bee procured: For all the honour which by tyrannie is wonne, in the ende by infamy is lost.
I am sorrie for thee Alexander: For How true honour is wonne. I see thou wantest Iustice, since thou louest Tyrannie: I see thou lackest peace, because thou louest warre: I see thou art not Rich, because thou hast made all the world poore: I see thou lackest rest, because thou seekest contention and debate: I see thou hast no honour, because thou winnest it by infamie: I see thou wantest friends, because thou hast made them thine enemies.
Finally, I see thou doest not reuenge thy selfe of thine enemyes, because thou art (as they wold be) the scourge to thy selfe.
Then since it is so; why art thou aliue in this World, sith thou lackest vertues, for the which life ought to be desired? For truely that man, which without his owne profite, and to the dammage of an other leadeth his life, by Iustice ought forthwith to lose his breath.
[Page 101] For there is nothing that sooner destroyeth the Weale publike, then to permit vnprofitable men therein to liue.
Therefore speaking the truth, you Lords and Princes are but poore, I beleeue thou conquerest the World, because thou knowest not thy superiour therein: and besides that, thou wilt take life from so many, to the end that by their death thou mayest win renowne.
If cruell and warlike Princes (as thou art) should inherite the liues of them whom they slay, to augment & prolong their liues, as they doe inherite goods to maintaine their pride, although it were vnmeete, then warre were tollerable,
But what profiteth the seruant to lose his life this day, and his Masters death to bee differred but vntill the The propertie of a wise man. morrow? O Alexander, to be desirous to commaund much, hauing respite to liue but little: mee thinketh it were a great folly and lacke of wisdome. Presumptuous and ambitious men which measure their works not with the few dayes they haue to liue, but with the arogant and haughty thoughts they haue to command: They leade their life in trauell, and take their death with sorrow. And the remedy hereof is, that if the wise man cannot obtaine that which hee would, hee should content himselfe with that which hee may.
I let thee to know Alexander, that the perfection of men is not to see much, to heare much, to knowe much, to procure much, to come to much, to trauell much, to possesse much, and to bee able to do much: but it is to bee in the fauour of the Gods.
Finally, I tell thee, that that man is perfect, who in his owne opinion deserueth not that hee hath, and in the opinion of another, deserueth much more then that hee possesseth. Wee are of this opinion amongst vs, that hee is vnworthy to haue honour, who by such infamous meanes searcheth for it. And therefore thou, Alexander, deseruest to be slaue vnto many, because thou thinkest to deserue the signory ouer all. By the immortall Gods I sweare, I cannot imagine the great mischiefe which entred into thy brest, so vnrighteously to kill King Darius (whose vassall and friend thou wast onely) because thou wouldest possesse the Empire of the whole World? For truly seruitude in peace is more worth then Signiory in warre. And hee that shall speake against that I haue spoken, I say he, is sicke, and hath lost his taste.
CHAP. XXXIIII. The sage Garamante continueth his Oration, shewing that perpetuitie of life cannot be bought with any worldly treasure. Among other notable matters hee maketh mention of the seuen lawes which they obserued.
THou wilt not deny me Alexander, but What mean a wise man should vse. that thou werte more healthfull when thou wast King of Macedo [...] then thou art now being Lord of all the earth: for the excessiue trauell bringeth men out of all order.
Thou wilt not deny me Alexander, that the more thou gettest, the more thou desirest: for the heart which with couetousnesse is set on fire, cannot with wood and bowes of riches, [Page 102] but with the earth of the graue be satisfied and quenched.
Thou wilt not deny me (Alexander) but the aboundance that thou thy selfe hast, seemeth vnto thee litle, and the little which an other man possesseth, seemeth vnto thee much: For the Gods, to the ambitious, and couetous harts gaue this for penance that neyther with inough, nor with too much they should content them selues.
Thou wilt not denie mee (Alexander) if in deed thy heart bee couetous, that first the pleasures of life shall end before thy couetousnesse: for where vices haue had power long time in the heart, there death, onely, and none other hath authority to plucke vp the rootes.
Thou wilt not deny mee (Alexander) that though thou hast more then all, yet thou enioyest least of any: for the Prince that possesseth much, is alwayes occupied in defending it: but The greedy desires of man neuer satisfied. the Prince that hath little, hath Time and leasure in quiet to enioy it.
Thou wilt not deny me (Alexander) though thou callest thy self Lord of all, yet thou hast but onely the name thereof, and others thy seruants and subiects haue all the profites: for the greedy and couetous hearts doe trauel and toyle to get, and in wasting that which they haue gotten, they pine away.
And finally (Alexander) thou wilt not deny me, that all that which thou hast in the long conquest gotten, is little, and that which of thy wisedom and quietnes thou hast lost, is much: For the Realms which thou hast gotten are innumerable, but the cares, sighes and thoughts which thou hast heaped vpon thy heart, are innumerable.
I let thee know one thing, that you Princes are poorer then the poore Subiects: for hee is not rich that hath more then hee deserueth, but he that desireth to haue lesse then possesseth. And that therefore Princes you haue nothing: For though you abound in great Treasurs, yet notwithstanding, you are poore of good desire.
Now Alexander, let vs come to the poynt, and cast account, and let vs see The man is happie that hath content. vs see to what ende thy Conquest will come? Either thou art a man, or thou art a god; And if thou bee anie of the gods, commaunde, or cause that wee be immortall: and if thou canst doe any such thing, then take vs and our goods withall. For perpetuity of the life, can by no riches be bought.
O Alexander, I let thee vnderstand, that therefore wee seeke not to make warre with thee: For we see that both from thee, and also from vs, death will shortly take away the life. For hee is a very simple man, that thinketh alwayes to remaine in another mans house as in his owne.
It thou Alexander, couldst giue vs, (as God) euerlasting life, eache man would trauell to defend his owne house; But sith we know we shall dye shortly, we care little whether to thee or any other, our goods and riches remaine. For if it be follie to dwell in an other mans house as his owne, it is a greater follie to him that loseth his life, in taking thought and lamenting for his goods.
Presuppose that thou art not god, but a man; I coniure thee then, by the immortall gods, and doe require thee that thou liue as a man, behaue thy selfe as a man, and couet no more then an other man, neyther desire How a man ought to conceyue of himselfe. more nor lesse then a man: for in the ende thou shalt dye as another man, and shalt be buryed as another man, and thou shalt bee throwne into the graue, and then there shalbe no more memorie of thee.
I tolde thee before that it greeued [Page 103] mee to see thee so hardy and couragious, so apt and so young, and now it grieueth mee to see thee so deceyued with the world: and that which I perceyue of thee is, that then thou shalt know thy folly when thou shalt not be able to finde any remedy. For the proude Young man before hee feeleth the wound hath alreadie the ointment.
You which are Grecians call vs Barbarous, because wee enhabite the mountaines.
But as touching this I say, that we reioice to be barbarous in our speech and Greekes in our doings: and not as you which haue the Grecian tong, and doe barbarous workes.
For hee that doth well, and speaketh rudely, is no barbarous man: but he which hath the tongue good, and the life euill. Sith I haue begun to that end nothing remaine vnspoken, I will aduertise thee of our laws and life, and maruell not to heare it, but desire to obserue and keepe it: for infinite are they which extoll vertuous workes, but few are they which obserue the same.
I let thee know (Alexander) that wee haue short life, wee are few people, wee haue little lands, wee haue little goods, wee haue no couetousnes, we haue few lawes, we haue few houses, and we haue few friends, and aboue all we haue no enemies: for a Wise man ought to be friend to one, and enemie to none.
Besides all this, wee haue amongst vs great friendshippes, good peace, great loue: much rest, and aboue all, wee holde our selues contented: for it is better to enioy the quietnesse of the graue, then to liue a discontented life.
Our Lawes are few, but in our opinions they are good, and are in seuen words onely included as here followeth.
Wee ordaine that our children make no more Lawes then wee their Fathers doe leaue vnto them: for new Lawes maketh them to forget good and ancient The lawes of the Garamantes. customes.
We ordaine that our Successors shall haue no moe Gods then two, of the which the one God shall bee for the life, and the other for the death: for one God well serued is more worth, then many not regarded
Wee ordaine that all bee apparrelled with one cloath, and hosed of one sort, and that the one haue no more apparrell then the other: for the diuersity of garments engendreth folly among the people.
Wee ordaine that when any woman which is maried hath had three children that then shee bee separated from her husband, for the aboundance of children causeth men to haue couetous hearts. And if any woman hath brought forth any mo children, then they should bee sacrificed vnto the Gods before her eyes.
We ordaine that all men and women speake the truth in all things, and if any bee taken in a lye, committing no other fault, that immediately hee bee put to death for the same: For one lyer is able to vndoe a whole multitude.
We ordaine that no woman liue aboue forty yeares, and that the man liue vntil fifty, and if they dye not before that time that then they be sacrificed to the Gods: for it is a great occasion for men to bee vicious, to thinke that they shall liue many yeares.
CHAP, XXXV. That Princes ought to consider, for what cause they were made Princes, and what Thales the Philosopher was, of the 12. questions asked him, and of his answere he made vnto them.
IT is a common and olde saying (which many times by Aristotle the noble and vertuous Prince hath beene repeated) That in the end all thinges are done to some purpose: for there is no worke neyther good nor euil [...] but he that doth it, meaneth to some end.
If thou demaundest the Gardener to what end he watereth so oft his plants, hee will answere thee, it is to get some money for his hearbes. If thou demaundest why the riuer runneth so swift, a man will answere thee, that it his to the end it should returne from whence it came.
If thou demaundest why the trees budde in the spring time, they will answere, to the end they may beare fruite in haruest. If wee see a traueller passe the mountaines in the snow, the riuers with perill, the woods in feare, What gifts God bestoweth vp on Princes, aboue other men. to walke in extreame heate in Sommer, to wander in the night time in the colde winter: and if by chance a man doth aske one of them saying: Friend, whether goest thou, wherefore takest thou such paines? And hee aunswereth, Truly sir, I know no more then you to what end, neyther can I tell why I take such paines. I aske thee now, what a wise man would answere to this innocent Traueller? Truly (hearing no more) hee would iudge him to bee a foole: for he is much infortunate, that for all his trauell looketh for no reward. Therefore to our matter, a Prince which is begotten as an other man, borne as an other man, liueth as an other man, dyeth as an other man: And besides all this commaundeth all men, if of such a one wee should demaund, why God gaue him signiory, and that he should answere hee knoweth not, but that he was borne vnto it.
In such case let euery man iudge, how vnworthy such a King is to haue such authority. For it is vnpossible for a man to minister iustice, vnlesse hee knew before what iustice meaneth.
Let Princes and noble men heare this word, & imprint it in their memory, which is, that when the liuing God determined to make Kings and Lords in this world: hee did not ordaine them to eate more then others, to drinke more then others, to sleepe more then others, to speake more thē others, nor to reioyce more then others: but hee created them vpon condition, that sith he had made thē to commaund more then others, they should be more iust in their liues thē others.
It is a thing most vniust, and in the Common wealth very slaunderous, to see with what authority a puissant man commandeth those that bee vertuous: and with how much shame, himselfe is bound to all vices. I know not what Lord he is that dare punish his subiect for one onely offence committed, seeing himselfe to deserue for euery deede to bee chastised: For it is a monstrous thing, that a blinde man should take vpon him to leade him that seeth.
They demaunded great Cato the Censor what a King ought to doe, that he should be beloued, feared, and not despised; he answered, The good Prince should be compared to him that selleth Tryacle, who if the poyson [Page 105] What is required in a Prince. hurteth him not, hee selleth bis Triacle well, I mean therby, that the punishment is takē in good part of the people, which is not ministred by the vitious man: For hee that maketh the Tryacle shall neuer bee credited, vnlesse the proofe of his Triacle bee openly knowne and tryed: I meane that the good life is none other then a fine Triacle to cure the Commonwealth. And to whome is he more like, which with his tongue blazeth vertues, and imployeth his deedes to all vices: then vnto the man, who in the one hand holdeth poyson to take away life; and in the other Triacle to resist death? To the end that a Lord bee wholy obeyed, it is necessary that all that he commaundeth bee obserued, first in his owne person: for no Lord can nor may withdraw himselfe from vertuous works.
This was the answere that Cato the Censor gaue, which in mine opinion was spoken more like a Christian then any Romane.
When the true God came into the World, he employed 30. yeares onely in workes, and spent but two yeares and a halfe in teaching: For mans heart is perswaded more with the worke hee seeketh, then with the word which hee heareth. Those therfore which are Lords, let them learne and know of him which is the true Lord, and also let Princes learne why they are Princes: for he is not a Pylot which neuer sayled on the seas. In mine opinion, if a Prince will know why he is a Prince, I would say to gouern well his people, to command well, and to maintaine all in iustice, and this should not bee with words, to make them afrayde, neyther by works which should offend them: but by sweet words which should encourage them, and by the good workes that should edifie them: for the noble and gentle heart cannot resist, him, that with a louing countenance commaundeth, Those which will rule and make tame, fierce, and wilde beasts, do threaten and rebuke them a hundred times, before they beate them once: and if they keepe them tyed, they shew them sundrie pleasures: So that the wildnesse of the beast is taken away, onely by the gentle and pleasant vsage of the man, therfore sith wee haue this experience of brute & sauage beasts (that is to say) that by their well doing, and by the gentle handling of them, they voluntarily suffer themselues to bee gouerned: much more experience we reasonable men ought to haue, that is to know, that being right and well gouerned, wee should humbly, and willingly obey our soueraigne Lords: for there is no man so hard hearted, but by gentle vsage will humble himselfe.
O Princes and noble men, I will tell you in one word, what the Lorde ought to doe in the gouernement of his common-wealth.
Euery Prince that hath his mouth full of truth, his hands open to giue rewards, and his eares stopped vnto lyes, and his heart open to mercy, such a one is happy, and the realme which hath him, may well bee called prosperous, and the people may call themselues fortunate: For where as truth, liberality, and clemency ruleth in the hart of a Prince, there wrongs, iniuries, & oppressions do not raigne. And contrariwise, where the Prince hath his heart fleshed in cruelty, his mouth full of tyrannies, his hands defiled with bloud, and enclineth his eares to heare lyes: such a Prince is vnhappy, and much more the people the which by such a one is gouerned: for it is vnpossible that there is peace and iustice in the common wealth, if hee which gouerneth it, bee a louer of lyes and flatteries.
[Page 106] In the yeare 440. before the Incarnation of Christ, which was in the year 244. of the foundation of Rome: Darius the fourth being King of Persia, and Brutus and Lucius at Rome Consuls, Thales the great Philosopher flourished in Greece, who was Prince of the seuen renowmed Sages: by the which occasion, all the What time Thales the Philosopher flourished. Realme of Greece had, and recouered renowne: For Greece boasted more of the seuen Sages which they had, then Rome did of all the valiant Captains shee nourished.
There was at that time much contention betweene the Romanes and the Greekes, for so much as the Greekes sayd, they were better, because they had more Sages, and the Romanes said the contrary, that they were better, because they had alwayes more Armies.
The Greekes replyed againe, that there were no lawes made but in Greece. And the Romanes to this aunswered, that though they were made in Greece, yet they were obserued at Rome. The Greekes sayde, that they had great Vniuersities to make Wise men in. And the Romanes said, that they had many great temples to worship their Gods in: for that in the end they ought to esteeme more one seruice done to the immortall Gods, then all the other commodities that might come vnto men.
A Thebane Knight was demaunded, what hee thought of Rome and Greece: and hee answered, mee thinketh the Romanes are no better then the Greekes, nor the Greekes then the Romanes: For the Greekes glory in their tongues, and the Romanes in their Launces: but we referre it to vertuous works: For one good worke is more worth, then eyther the long staues of the Romanes, or the eloquēt tongues of the Greekes,
Therfore touching my matter, this Philosopher Thales was the first that found the Pole (called the North Thales the first that found out the North starre. starre) to sayle by, and the first that found the deuision of the yeares, the quantitie of the Sun and the Moone, and the first that sayde soules were immortall, and that the World had a soule. And aboue all, hee would neuer marry; for the care to content a wife, and the thought to bring vp the children, doth much dull the wits of wise men.
This Philosopher Thales was very poore, wherefore (some disdayning him for his pouerty) to declare and shew that he was more rich then all they: hee bought the next yeare all the Oliues hee could get: for by Astronomy hee knew that in the thirde yeare there would be a great want & scarsitie thereof throughout all the Country: Wherefore all were compelled to come to him for Oliues, which at his owne price he solde: & in this sort he shewed them that mocked him, that he willingly despised riches, and louingly embraced pouertie: For, he that willingly in this world is poore, ought not to be called poore.
This Philosopher Thales was a Mirror amongst the Sages of Greece, and was greatly reuerenced of al the Kings of Asia, and highly renowmed in Rome.
And further he was so wise, and had so ready a wit, that to all sodaine questions hee was demaunded, hee gaue present aunswere forthwith, which thing declared him to bee of a maruellous wit, and truely it was a great matter: for the most part of mortall men cannot tell how to answere, nor what to demaund.
Many and diuers questions wee asked him, as Diogenes Laertius affirmeth, in the answering whereof hee shewed great wisdome, the treasure of memory, and subtilty of vnderstanding.
[Page 107] First, he was asked, What GOD was? Thales answered; Of all the most antiquities, GOD is the most auncient thing. For all the Ancients past neyther sawe him take beginning, nor those which shal come, shall see him haue ending. Questions resolued by Thaks.
Secondarily, hee was asked, What thing was most beautifull: he answered, The world: because no Artificiall paynting could make the like.
Thirdly he was asked, What was the greatest thing: To that hee answered, Place, wherein all things doe stand. For the place which containeth all, of necessitie must be greater then all.
Fourthly, it was asked him, Who knoweth most: he answered, That no man was wiser then Time, because Time alwayes onely inuented new things; and is he which renueth the olde.
Fiftly, they asked him, What was the lightest thing? hee answered, the wit of man, because that without trauel and danger it passeth the Sea, to discouer and compasse all the whole earth.
Sixtly, they asked him, What was the strongest thing: he said, That man that is in necessitie: For necessitie reuiueth the vnderstanding of the rude, and causeth the coward to be hardy in perill.
Seuenthly, they asked him, What was the hardest thing to know? hee answered, for man to know himselfe: For there should bee no contentions in the world, if man knew himselfe.
Eightly, they asked him, What thing was sweetest to obtaine: hee answered, Desire: For the man reioyceth to remember the paines past, and to obtayne to that he desireth present.
Ninthly, they asked him, when the enuious man is quyet: he answered, when he seeth his enemy dead, or vtterly vndon For truely the prosperity of the enemie is a sharpe knife to the enuious heart.
Tenthly, hee was asked, What man should doe to liue vprightly? Hee answered, to take the counsell to himselfe, which hee giueth to another. For the vndoing of all men is, that they haue plentie of counsell for others, and want for themselues.
The eleuenth question was, they asked him, What profite he hath that is not couetous? whereunto hee answered: That such a one is deliuered from the torments of his Auarice, and besides that hee recouereth friends for his person: For riches tormenteth the Auaricious, because hee spendeth them not.
The twelfth, they asked him, What the Prince should doe to gouerne others? hee answered, hee ought first to gouerne himselfe, and then afterwards to gouerne others. For it is vnpossible the Rod should bee right, where the shadow is crooked.
By the occasion of this last answer, I did bring in here all these questions, to the ende Princes and Rulers might Princes and Magistrates supporters of the common wealth see, how that euery one of them is as the rod of Iustice, and that the Common-wealth is none other but a shadow of them, which in all, and for all, ought to be right. For immediatly it is perceiued in the shadow of the Comon-wealth, if the Iustice or life of him which gouerneth, bee out of his order. Therfore concluding that all I haue spoken before, if a Prince would aske mee why he is a Prince: I would tell him in one word onely: that hee which is the High Prince, hath made you a Prince in this world, to the ende you shuld be a destroyer of heretikes, a father of orphanes, a friend of Sages, a hater of malicious, a scourge of Tyrants, a rewarder of good, a defender and protector of Churches, a plague of the wicked, a onely louer and friend of the Commonwealth, and aboue all you ought to bee an vpright minister of Iustice: beginning first with your owne person and Pallace: For in all things amendment is suffered, except in Iustice, which ought to bee equall, betweene the Prince and Commonwealth.
CHAP. XXXVI. What Plutarch the Philosopher was: Of the wise words hee spake to Traian the Emperour: And how the good Prince is the head of the Publikeweale.
IN the time of Traiana the Emperour, there flourished in his Court a Philosopher named Plutarch, a man very pure, and of good life, wise in science, and well esteemed The description of Plutarch. in Rome. For Traian the Emperor desired greatly to haue Wise men in his companie, and to make notable and sumptuous Buyldings in euery place where he came.
It was hee which wrote the liues of many noble Greekes and Romanes, and aboue all hee made a Booke entituled The doctrine of Princes, which hee offered to the Emperour Traian: in the which hee sheweth his vertues, the zeale which he had to the Commonwealth, the highnes of his eloquēce, & the profoundnes of his knowledge.
For he was elegant in writing, and pleasant in speaking: and among all other things which hee wrote in his booke, were these words following: most worthie to be noted, and written in Golden letters; And they are such:
I let thee to know Lord Traian, that thou and the Empire are but one mysticall bodie, in manner and forme of a liuely bodie: For they should, and ought to be so correspondent and agreeable, that the Emperor should reioyce to haue such subiects, and the Empire ought to be gladde to haue such a Lord.
And to the ende wee may describe the mysticall bodie, which is the Empyre, in the forme and shape of a natural man, you shall vnderstand that the head which is aboue all, is the Prince which commaundeth all: the eyes whereby we see, are the good men in the Commonwealth whom we followe: the eares that heare what wee say, are the Subiects, which doe what wee commaund them: the tongue wherewith we speake, are the Sages, of whom we heare the lawes and doctrines: the hayres which growe on our heads, are those which are vexed and gricued, and that demaund iustice of the King: The handes and armes, are the Knights, which resist the enemyes: the feet which sustaineth the mēbers, are the tyllers of the ground which giueth meate to all Estates: the hard Bones that sustaineth the feeble and soft Flesh, are the Sage men, which endure the burden and trauell of the Common-wealth: the Hearts which we see not outwardly, are the Priuie Councellours,
Finally, the necke that knitteth the bodie with the Head, is the loue of the King, combined with the whole Realme, which make a Common-wealth,
All the words abouenamed spake Plutarch the great, vnto Traian the Emperour. And truly the inuention and grace of him, proceeded of an high and deepe vnderstanding; For the head hath three properties, which are very necessary for the gouernor of the Common-wealth.
The first is, that euen as the head is of all other members of the body the highest, so the authority of the Prince exceedeth the estates of all others.
For the Prince onely hath authoritie to commaund, and all others are bound to obey,
Admit there be many that are stout, rich, and noble men in the Commonwealth: The authoritie of Princes. yet all ought to knowe and acknowledge seruice to the Lorde of the same. For the noble and worthie Princes doe daily ease many of diuers seruices, but they will neuer exempt any man from their loyaltie and allegeance. Those which are valiant [Page 109] and mighty in a Realme, should content themselues with that wherewith the battlements doe vpon a Castle (that is to know) that they are hier then the rampers wherein men walke on the Wals, and lower then the pinnacles which are on the toppe: for the wise man of high estate, ought not to regard the Prince which is the high pinnacle, but ought to looke on the alleis, which are the poore comfortlesse.
I would speake a word, and it greeueth me (that is) whereas great Lords desire in the commonwealth to commaund, is like vnto him that holdeth his armes and hands ouer his heade: For all that I haue heard, and for all What is most requisite in the Common wealth. that I haue reade, and also for all that hath chanced in my time, I counsell, admonish, and warne all those which shall come after this time, that if they will enioy their goods, if they will liue in safeguard, and if they will bee deliuered from tyranny, and liue quiet in the Common-wealth, that they doe not agree to haue in one Realme aboue one King and one Lord: For it is a generall rule, where there are many Rulers in a Common-wealth, in the end both it and all must perish.
Wee see by experience, that Nature formed vs with many sinewes, many bones, with much flesh, with many fingers, and with many teeth: and to all this one only body had but one head: wherefore though with many estates the Common-wealth is ordayned: yet with one Prince alone it ought to bee ruled. If it consisted in mens hands to make a Prince they would then also haue the authority to put him down: but being true, as it is most true indeede, that the Prince is constituted by God, none but God alone ought to depriue & depose him of his estate, but thinges that are measured by the diuine iudgment, man hath no power with razour to cut them. I know not what ambition the mean can haue? neither what enuie the lowest can haue, nor what God the only letter vp of Princes. pride the highest can haue, to command, and not to obey, since wee are sure, that in this mysticall body of the Common-wealth, hee which is most worth, shalbe no more esteemed, then the fingers, or paring the nailes, or the falling of an haire from the head.
Let euery man the fore liue in peace in his common-wealth, and acknowledge obedience vnto his prince: and he that will not do so, away with him: for euen as the onely offence proceedeth of him, so let the onely paine rest vpon him. For it is an old saying, That hee that taketh vp the sword against his Maister, will shortly after lay his head at his feete. The second condition is, To compare the King to the head, because the head is the beginning of Mans life. The most part of things that euer God created, according to their natures, worke their operations, as in growing high, and towards the heauens.
We see the vapors ascend high, the Trees budde out on high, the sourges of the Sea mount high, and the nature Man differeth from all other creatures. of Fire is alwayes to ascend & mount on high: onely the miserable Man, groweth downwards, and is brought low, by reason of the feeble and fraile flesh, which is but Earth, & commeth of earth, and liueth on earth: and in the ende returneth to earth againe, from whence he came.
Aristotle saith well, That Man is as a Tree, planted with the rootes vpwardes: whose roote is the head, and the stocke is the bodie: the braunches are the armes, the barcke is the Flesh, the knoties are the bones, the sappe is the heart: (which with the braine, is the seate of the soule, first liuing, and last dying:) the rottennes is malice, the gumme is loue, the flowers are wordes: and the Fruites, are the good workes.
[Page 110] To make the man to goe vprightly, his head should be where his feet are, and the feete where the head is, sith the head is the root, and the feet are the bowes: but in this case I sweare that we are correspondent to our beginning: for it our flesh bee planted contrariwise, so much more contrary we haue our life ordered.
Therefore concerning our matter, I say, that the Realme hath no lesse his beginning of the King, then the King of the Realme: which thing is plainely seene, for that the King giueth lawes and institutions vnto a Realme, and not the Realme to the King. The gifts and benefits which the King giueth, cōmeth to the realm and not from the Realme to the King.
To inuent wars, to take truce, to make peace, to reward the good, and to punish the euill, proceedeth from What benfite cōmeth by a good Prince. the King to the Realme, and not to the contrary. For it appertaineth only to the Maiesty of a Prince, to commaund and ordaine: and to the common wealth to authorize and obeye him.
As in a great sumptuous building it is more dāgerous, where one stone of the foundation doth fall, thē when ten thousand tiles fall from the toppe: so he, ought more to bee blamed for one onely disobedience committed and done to the King, and his iustice, then for fiue thousand offences against the common wealth: For wee haue seene of a little disobedience, a great slander arise in a cōmon wealth. O it is a goodly matter for a Prince to be beloued of his subiects, and a goodly thing also for the Realme to be fearefull of their King: for the king that is not loued of his Subiects, cannot liue in peace or quiet: & therealm that is not fearefull of their King cannot be well gouerned. The Realme Sicilia had alwayes mighty Princes and Gouernors: for in ancient time it was gouerned by vertuous Princes, or els by cruell and malicious tyrants. In the time of Seuerus the Emperour, there raigne [...] in Cecil, a King called Lelius Pius, who had so many good things in him, that throughout all the Empire hee was very well esteemed, and chiefly for foure Lawes amongst others, he ordayned in that Realme, which were these following.
Wee ordaine, that if amongst equall Good lawes ordayned. persons there bee any iniuries offered, that they be punished, or else that they be assembled: for where enuy is rooted betweene two, it profiteth more to recōncile their good willes, then to punish their persons.
Wee ordaine, that if the greatest bee offended by the least, that such offence bee little reproued, and well punished: for the audacite and little shame, and also the disobedience of the seruant to the master, ought not to be reformed, but by grieuous punishment.
We ordaine, that if any resist or speake against the commandement of a Prince, that presently (without delay) he suffer death before them all: for they may boldly by the way of supplication, reuerently declare their griefes, and not by slaunder rebelliously disobey their Lords.
Wee ordaine, that if any rayse the common wealth against the Prince, hee that can first strike off his head, may lawfully without fearing any daunger of punishment: for his head is iustly taken from him, that would there should be many heades in the common weale.
Of all this before spoken, Herianus is the Authour, in his fourth Booke of the Kinges of Sieile, where hee putteth many and singular Lawes and Customes, whith the Auncients had to the great confusion of those that be present
For truely the Auncients did not onely exceede those that bee present in their works & doings: but [Page 111] also in speaking profound wordes. Therefore returning to our matter, mans life greatly trauelleth alwayes to defend the head, in such sort that a man would rather suffer his hand to bee cut off, then to suffer a wound to bee made in his head,
By this comparison: I meane that a fault in a Common-wealth, is a cut which cankereth and festereth, but the disobedience to a Prince is a wound which forthwith killeth. If a man did aske mee what vnion Princes should haue with their Common wealth, I would answere them in this sort, that the wealth of the King and Realme consisteth herein. That the King should accompany with the good, and banish the euill. For it is vnpossible that the King should bee What the Prince ought to do beloued of the Common-wealth, if the company hee hath about him be reputed vicious. Hee should also loue his Realme without dissimulation, and the Realme should serue him vnfaynedly: for the Common-wealth which knoweth it to bee beloued of their Prince, shall not finde any thing too hard for his scruice.
Further, that the King vse his Subiects as his children, and that the Subiects serue him as a Father: for generally the good Father cannot suffer his children to bee in danger, neyther the good children will disobey their Father.
Also the King ought to bee iust in his commaundements, and the subiects faithfull: For if it bee a good thing in their seruices, to liue vnder a iust Law, it is much better to liue vnder a iust King.
Also the King ought to defend his Subiects from enemies, and they ought well to pay him his tribute: For the Prince who defendeth his people from enemies and tyranny, worthily deserueth to be Lord of all their goods,
Also the King ought to keepe his Common-wealth in quiet, and ought not to be presumptuous of his persō: for the Prince which is not feared, & well esteemed, shall neuer be obeyed in his commandement.
Finally, I say, that the good King ought to do his Realme pleasure, and the faithfull subiects ought to endeauour themselues, neuer to displease their King. For that Prince cannot be called vnfortunate, who of his Commonwealth is loued and obeyed.
CHAP. XXXVII. As there are two sences in the head, smelling and hearing: So likewise the Prince which is the head of the Common-weale, ought to heare the complaints of all his Subiects, and should know them all, to recompence their seruices.
WEe haue shewed, how the Prince is the commō welth. The King compared to the Common wealth and now wee will let you vnderstand another notable thing which is this: that as all sences are in the head, so ought all estates to bee in Princes: for the vertues which are in many spred and scattered should be in one Prince found and gathered.
The office of the feet is not to see but to goe: the hands office is not to heare, but to labour: the shoulders not to feele, but to beare: All these offices are not seemely for the members, which are his Subiects, but appertaineth to the King alone to exercise them: For the head to haue eyes, & no other members, meaneth nought else, but that onely to the Prince, and to none other, appertaineth to know all: for Iulius Caesar [Page 112] knew all those of his Host, and named them by their proper names.
I counsell, and admonish you, Oh ye Princes all, which shall heare, see, or read this thing, that yee do reioyce to visite, and to be visited: to see and to be seene: to talke, and to be talked with: For the things which with your eyes you see not, you cannot perfectly loue. A man ought also to know that the head only hath eares to note, that to the king, and to none other, appertaineth to heare all, and to haue the The King the onely head of all gates open for all them that haue any sutes: For it is no small matter to a commonwealth, to heare and obtaine of the Prince easie audience.
Helius Spartianus commendeth highly Tratan the Emperour, that when he was on horseback to go to the warre, alighted againe, to heare the complaint of a poore Romaine. which thing was maruellously noted amongst all the Romains: for if men were not vaine they should giue a Prince more honour for one worke of Iustice, then for the victorie in many battells.
Truely to a King it is no pleasure, but rather paine and griefe, and also for the common people annoyance, that their Prince alwayes should be enclosed and shut vp. For the prince which shutteth his gates against his subiects. causeth them not to open their hearts willingly to obey him. How manie and great slaunders doth there arise in the commonwealth, only for that the prince sometime will not speake?
Iulius Caesar was Emperour, and the head of all the Empire, and because hee was musing of weightie matters, The death of Iulius Caesar. and would not hearken to him which would haue reuealed the treason conspired against him, was the same day, with 33. wounds in the Senate murdered. The contrarie is read of Marcus Aurelius the Emperor, who was so familiar with all men, that howbeit hee was chiefe of all, and that the affaires which now are diuided to manie, depended then onely of him: yet he neuer had porter of his gate, nor Chamberlain of his chamber: and for many affaires that euer hee had to dee with many men (were they neuer so great) hee was neuer longer then one day about thē. For truely (if I may say it) a prince is not worthy to be beloued, that is scarse of his words, vnto those which faithfully serue him with works: For wise princes should be quicke in hearing, and graue in determining. For manie come to speake with Princes, which thinke that their counsells shall not bee accepted, nor their reuestes graunted, yet they desire importunatly to be heard, and of truth the prince ought to heare them: For the heauie heart with sorrowes burdened, when it is heard, is greatly lightned.
I would faine know why the sence of smelling is onely in the head, and not in the feete, nor in the handes, neither in any other part of the bodie? Truly it signifieth nought else, but that it appertaineth to the Prince (which is the head of all) to heare, and know all, and therefore it is necessary hee be informed of all their liues. For the prince cannot gouerne his Commonwealth A Prince ought not to be sparing in words. well, vnles he knoweth the particularities thereof. It is necessary that the Prince know the good, to the ende he may preferre them: For that Commonwealth is greatly slandred, wherein the euill are not punished, nor the good honored. It is necessary that the prince know the sage, to counsel with them: For the ancient Romaines neuer admitted any for coūsellors, but those which with Phylosophie were adorned. It is necessary he know the euill for to correct them: for there is a great disorder in the Commonwealth, where without any shame the wickednes of the wicked is cloked & vnpunished. It is necessary the prince do know those that are able to teach, for in the court [Page 113] of the Romaine princes, there were alwayes Captaines, which taught and shewed how to handle their weapōs, and wise men, which taught and instructed them Sciences,
It is necessarie the prince knew the poore of his Realme, for to ayde and succour them: For the Prince should so gouerne the Common-wealth, that among the rich nothing should abound: nor amōg the poore any thing should want. It is necessary the Prince know the presumptuous and malicious, for to humble What is required in a Prince for the gouernment of the Commonwealth. them: For the poore by enuie, and the rich by pride, heretofore haue detstroyed great Commonwealths.
It is necessarie the prince know the peacekeepers, for to keepe and maintaine them in peace: For it is the duty of a prince to plucke downe the stout stomackes of the prowde, and to giue wings of fauour to the humble.
It is necessary that the Prince know them which haue done him Seruice, to the end they may be rewarded, according to theyr merites: For the stoute and noble hart for little fauour shewed vnto him, bindeth himselfe to accomplish great things.
It is necessary the Prince know the Noble-men of his Kingdome, to the ende that when time of need shall require, he might retaine and take them into his seruice: For it is but meete, that that man which is adorned with vertue and Nobilitie, should bee preferred aboue all others in the Common-wealth.
Finally (I say) it is necessary, that the Prince should know the murmurers, neuer to credit them: and likewise to know those that tell the truth, alwayes to loue them. For none shuld be more familiar, thē the wise man to giue him coūsell, & the vpright man, to tell the truth. And contrariwise, none ought to bee more abhorred of the Prince, then the Flatterer and ignorant man.
O how necessarie it is for a Prince to know & vnderstand all things in his Realme, to the end no man might deceyue him, as they doe now a dayes. For the most part of princes are deceiued, for none other cause, but for that they will not be counselled, and informed by wise and discreet men. For, many crout [...]h vnto princes with faire wordes, (as though they meant him good seruice) but theyr intent is contrarie, by deceyt to get an Office, and secke their owne profite.
Helius Spartianus saith, that Alexander Seuerus (the xxv. Emperour of Rome) was a man very stoute, and vertuous, and amongst all other things, The commendations of the Emperour Alexander Scue. us. they greatly commēded him, because in his chamber he had a familiar booke, wherein he had written all the Nobles of his Realme and Empire, and when any Office was voyde, they saide nothing else to him, but that it is voyde: for the Emperour did not graunt it to him that sought it, but (by the secrate information of his Booke) to him that best deserued it.
I will and may sweare, and all other princes shal wel affirme the same, that though they erre in distributing theyr Offices, they do not erre for that they would erre: Yet they cannot denie, but that they erre grieuously, for that they will not be enformed, and thogh they bee informed, yet it were better they were not informed at all: For he shall neuer giue the prince good nor perfect counsell, which (by that counsel) intendeth to haue some proper interest. The chiefest thing for princes, is to knowe how to choose the best in prosperitie, and how to auoyde the worst in aduersitie, and to know how to reward the good men liberally.
And truly in this case Noble princes should haue more consideration towards them which haue done them the worthiest and loyalst seruice, then to the importunate sutes of his Familiar friendes: For hee shall thanke [Page 114] the seruant that procureth it, but not the Prince that geueth it.
All that wee speake is to no other purpose, but to perswade, that sith the Prince is Lord of all, it is reason, that hee bee enformed of the state & condition of all: for otherwise hee shall bee deceyued by a thousand malicious hearts which are in the Common wealth. Therefore to conclude I say, if the Prince bee not enformed of the life of all, the skinne will seeme flesh, the brain meate, the straw corn, the brasse golde, the gall honey, and the dregs good wine: I meane in diuiding his offices, thinking to hit the white, he shall oft times mil [...]e the butte.
CHAP. XXXVIII. Of the great Feast the Romanes celebrated to the God Ianus, the first day of Ianuary, and of the bounty and liberality of the Emperour Mareus Aurelius the same day:
AMong the solemne The feasts of the Romanes. feasts which the ancient Romanes vsed, this was one to the god Ianus, the which they celebrated the first day of the year, which now is the first of Ianuary. for the Hebrewes beganne their yeare in March, and the Romanes beganne at Ianuarie.
The Romanes painted this god with two faces, signifying thereby the end of the yeare past, and the beginning of the yeare present. To this god Ianus was dedicated in the city of Rome a sumptuous Temple, which they called the Temple of peace, and was in great reuerence throughout all the City: for the Citizens on this day offered great gifts and sacrifices, because hee should defend them from their enemies: For there is no Nation nor people to whom warre euer succeeded so prosperously, but that they had rather liue in peace then in warre.
When the Romane Emperours went to the warres, or came from the warres, first they visited the Temple of Iupiter, secondarily, the Temple of the Vestall virgins, and thirdly, they visited the Temple of the god Ianus: because there was a Law in Rome, that the Emperour should at his going forth to the warres visite the Temple of Iupiter last of all, and at his return againe, the Temple of Ianus first. And let them that be desirous of Antiquities here know, that when the Emperour should goe to the warres in the Temple of the Goddesse Vesta, they put vppon his shoulders the royall mantell, and in the Temple of Iupiter all the Senators kissed his foote, and in the Temple of Ianus the Consuls kissed his arme. For since the time that the cruell Sylla caused three thousand neighbours to dye which kissed his right hand, they neuer after kissed the hands of any Emperour in Rome: Therefore sith the Gentiles would not issue out of Rome before that first they had taken the benediction of The duty of euery good Christian. those vaine Gods: how much more ought Christian Princes to doe it, which know well that their Temples are consecrated to the true God, and ordained for his seruice onely. For the man that forgetteth God, and committeth his affayres to men, shall see how his businesse will thriue at the hands of men. Therefore proceeding forth, the day wherein the Feast of the god Ianus was celebrated, euery man left his worke, and reioyced through all the streetes of Rome, no more then lesse then in the feasts of [Page 115] Iupiter, Mars, Venus, Berecinthia: For the feasts of the other gods (sith they were many in number) were not celebrated, but in certaine places in Rome. The Romanes on that day, put on their best apparrell, for they had a custome in Rome, that hee which had not that day change of apparrell to honor the Feast, should eyther goe out of Rome, or else keepe himselfe locked in his his house.
That day they set on their houses many lights, & made great bonefires before their dores, and had sundry and many playes and pastimes: for the feasts of vain men are more to delight their bodies then to reforme their minds. They watched all the night in the Temples, and also they deliuered al the prisoners which were imprisoned for debt, and with the common treasures payd their debts. Furthermore, they had a custome in Rome, that they should sustaine all the An ancient custome in Rome. Senators (which were fallen into pouerty) with the goods of the commō wealth.
They had that day Tables set before their dores, furnished with all sorts of meates, so that that which remayned and was left, was more worth then that which was eaten, For vaine glorious men auant themselues more of that which in bankets and feastes is left, then they doe of that which is eaten.
They sought all that day for poore men, because they should be prouided of all things: For it was an auncient law, that none should bee so hardy to make any open feast, except first hee had prouided for all them of his streete.
The Romanes thought that if they spent liberally that day, the god Ianus would deliuer them from pouerty, because he was the god of temporall goods.
And they sayd further, that the god Ianus was a God very thankefull, and acknowledged the seruices that were done vnto him, and beleeued earnestly that if they spent freely for his sake, hee would requite it double. In the feast of this god Ianus many processions were made, not altogether, but the Senate went by themselues, the Censors by themselues, the people by themselues, the Matrones by themselues, the Maidens by them▪ the Vestall Virgins by themselues, and all the straunge Embassadors went with the captiues in procession, there was a custome in Rome that the same day the Emperor shold An other custome in Rome. weare the Imperiall robe, all the captiues which could touch him with their hands were deliuered, and al the transgressors pardoned, exiles and outlawries were called againe. For the Roman Princes were neuer present in any feast, but they shewed some noble example of mercie, or gentlenes toward the peeple. At this time Marcus Aurelius was Emperor of Rome, and married with the beautifull Lady Faustina, (who in the feast of Ianus) leauing in procession the company of the Senators, came into the procession of the Captiues, the which easily touched his robe, whereby they obtayned liberty, the which they so greatly desired: I say desired; for truly the Captiue is contented with a small thing. And because there is no good thing by any good man done, but immediately by the wicked it is repined at: this deede was so contrary to the euill, as ioyfull to the good: for there is nothing bee it neuer so good, not so well done, but forthwith it shall bee contraried of them that be euill.
Of this thing I haue seene by experience (in this miserable life sundry examples) that euen as among the good one onely is noted to be chiefe: so likewise among the euill, one is [Page 116] noted principall aboue the rest. And the worst I finde herein is, that the vertuous doe not so much glory of their vertue, as the euill and malitious hath shame and dishonour of their vice: for vertue naturally maketh a man to bee temperate and quiet, but vice maketh him to bee dissolute and retchlesse.
This is spoken, because in the Senate of Rome, there was a Senatour called Fuluius, whose beard & hayres were very white, but in malice, hee was most cankered blacke: so that for his yeares hee was honoured in Rome of many, and for his malice he was hated of all.
The Senator Fuluius made friends in the time of Adrian to succeede in the Empire, and for this cause he had alwayes Marcus Aurelius for his competitor, and wheresoeuer hee came he alwayes spake euill of him, as of his mortall enemy.
For the enuious heart can neuer giue a man one good word. This Senators heart was so puffed with enuy that hee seeing Marcus Aurelius to obtaine the Empire being so young, and that hee being so olde could not attaine thereunto: there was no good that euer Marcus Aurelius did in the Common-wealth openly, but it was Nothing so hurtfull, as an enuious tongne. grudged at by Fuluius, who sought alwayes to deface the same secretly. It is the nature of those which haue their hearts infected with malice, to spitte out their poison with wordes of spite. Oft times I haue mused which of these two are greater, the duety the good haue to speake against the euil, or else the audacity the euill haue to speake against the good: For in the World there is no brute beast so hardy, as the euill man is, that hath lost his fame.
Oh would to God the good to his desire had as much power to doe good works, as the euill hath strength to his affection, to exercise wicked deedes: for the vertuous man findeth not one hand to helpe him in vertue to worke, yet after hee hath wrought it, hee shall haue a thousand euill tongues against his honest doings to speake.
I would all these which reade this my writing, would call to memory this word (which is) that among euill men the chiefest euill is, that after they haue forgotten themselus to be men, and exiled both truth and reason, thē with all their might they goe against truth and vertue with their words, & against good deeds with their tongs: for though it bee euill to bee an euill man, yet it is worse not to suffer an other to bee good, which aboue all things is to bee abhorred, and not to bee suffered. I let you know and assure you, Princes and Noble men, that you in working vertuous deeds, shall not want slaunderous tongues, and though you bee stout, yet you must bee patient to breake theyr malice. For the Noble heart feeleth more the enuie of another, then hee doth the labour of his owne body. Princes should not be dismayed, neither ought they to maruell, though they bee tolde of the murmuring at their good works: For in the end they are men, they liue with men, & cannot escape the miseries of men: For there was neuer Prince in the World yet so high, but hee hath beene subiect to malitious tongues. Enuse an enemie to vertue. Truly a man ought to take great pitty of Princes, whether they bee good or euill: for if they bee euill, the good hate them, and if they bee good, the euill immediately murmureth against them.
The Emperour Octauian was very vertuous, yet greatly persecuted with enuious tongues, who on a time demaunded (since he did good vnto al men) why he suffered a few to murmur [Page 117] against him? hee answered: you see my friends, hee that hath made Rome free from enemies, hath also set at liberty the tongues of malitious men: for it is not reason that the hard stones should be at liberty, and the tender stones tyed.
Truly, this Emperour Octauian by his words declared himselfe to bee a Wise man, and of a noble heart, and lightly to waigh both the murmurings of the people, and also the vanities of their words, which thing truly a wise and vertuous man ought to doe: For it is a generall rule, that vices continually seeke defendors, and vertues alwayes getteth enemies. In the Booke of Lawes the diuine Plato sayth well, that the euill were alwayes double euill, because they were weapons defensiue, to defend their malitious purpose: and also carry weapons offensiue, to blemish the good works of others.
Vertuous men ought with much study to follow the good, and with more diligence to flye from the euill: For, a good man may commaund all other vertuous men with a backe of his finger, but to keepe himselfe onely from one euill man, hee had neede both hands, feet and friends.
Themistocles the Thebane sayde, that hee felt no greater torment in the World then this, that his proper honour should depend vpon the imagination of an other: for it is a cruell thing that the life and honor of one that is good, should be measured by the tongue of an other that is euill: for as in the Forge the coales, cannot bee kindled without sparkes nor as corruption can not bee in the sinckes without ordure: so hee that hath his heart free from malice, his tongue is occupied alwayes in sweete and pleasant communication. And contrariwise out of his mouth, whose stomack is infected with malice, proceedeth alwayes words bitter and ful of poyson: for, if out of a rotten furnace the fire burneth, it is impossible that the smoake should be cleare. It is but a small time, that (in prophane loue) he that is enamored, is able to refraine his loue, and much lesse time is the wrathfull man able to hide his wrath: for the heauy sighes are tokens of the sorrowfull heart, and the words are those that disclose the malicious man.
Pulio sayeth in the first booke of Caesars, that the Emperor Marcus Aurelius was very vertuous in all his works, sage in knowledge, iust in iudgment, The prayse of Marcus Aurelius. mercifull in punishment: but aboue all things he was wise in dissembling, and herein he was very discreet: for there was neuer patient man but prospered well in all his affayres. Wee see that through patience and wisedome, many euill things become reasonable, & frō reasonable are broght to good, & from good to excellent. The contrary hapneth to them that are moued more then they need: for the man which is not patient, looketh not yet for any good successe in his affayres, thogh they are iust. The Emperour Marcus oft times was wont to say, that Iulius Caesar wan the Empire by the sword, Augustus was Emperor by inheritance, Caligula came to it, because his father conquered Germany, Nero gouerned it with tyranny, Titus was Emperor, for that he subdued Iury, the good Traian came to the Empire by his clemency and vertue: but I (sayeth he) obtained the Empire through patience onely: for it is a greater patience to suffer the iniuries of the malitious, then to dispute with the Sage in the Vniuersity.
And this Emperour sayde further, Patience ouercommeth many matters. in the gouernment of the Empire: I haue profited more through patience, then by science: for science only profiteth for the quietnesse of the [Page 118] person, but patience profiteth the person, and the Commonwealth.
Iulius Capitolinus saith that the Emperor Antoninus Pius was a prince very True patience described. pacient, and in such sort, that often times being in the Senate, hee saw both those which loued him, and also those that were against him with the people when they did rebell: yet his patience was so great, that neither his friends for the vnthankefulnesse of themselues, remayned sad, neyther his enemies for any displeasure by him done, did at any time complain. Meaning therefore in this Chapter, to ioine the end with the beginning: I say, that as the Emperour Marcus Aurelius put himselfe among the captiues, and that this deed in Rome of all men was commended: The Senatour Fuluius could not refraine from speaking, for that he had not the wit to endure it, wherfore as it were scoffing he spake these words to the Emperour.
Lord, I maruell why thou yeeldest thy selfe to all, which thing for the reputation of the Empire cannot bee suffered, for that it is not decent for thy Maiesty.
The Emperour Marcus Aurelius seeing & hearing that in the presence of them all, the Senator Fuluius spake vnto him these words, he tooke it patiently, & with pleasant countenance sayde, The Questions which the Senator Fuluius propoundeth, let it bee for to morrow, because my answere may bee the riper, and his choller the quieter. Therefore the next day following, the Emperour Marcus came into the High Capitoll (as Pulio declareth in the life of Marcus Aurelius) and spake these words.
CHAP. XXXIX. Of the answer the Emperour Marcus Aurelius made to the Senatour Fuluius before all the Senate, being reproued of him for his familiaritie hee vsed to all, contrary to the maiestie and authoritie of the Romane Emperour, wherein he painteth enuious men.
FAthers Conscript, and sacred Senate, I would not yesterday answere to that which the Senator Fuluius spake vnto mee, because it was somewhat late, and for that wee were long in sacrifices, I thought that neyther time nor place was conuenient to answere thereunto. For it is a signe of a little wisdome, and of great folly for a man to answere sodenly to euery question. The liberty that vndiscreet men haue to demaund, the selfe same priuiledge hath the Wise for to answere: for though the demaund proceed of ignorance, yet the answere ought to proceede of Wisedome:
Truly wise men were well at ease, if to euery demaund they should answere the simple and malitious: who (for the most part) demaund more to vexe other men, then for to profite themselus, more for to proue then to know: wherefore Wise men ought to dissemble at such demaundes: for the Sages ought to haue their eares open to heare, and their tongue tyed because they should not speake. I The property of a wise man. let you know (ancient Fathers, and sacred Senate) that that little which I know, I learned in the Isle of Rhodes, in Naples, in Capua, and in Tharente. And all Tutors tolde mee, that the [Page 119] intention and end of men to study, was onely to know to gouern themselues amongst the malicious: For science profiteth nothing else, but to know how to keepe his life well ordered, and his tongue well measured. Therfore I protest to God, that which I will say before your sacred presence, I will not speake it of any malice or ill will, but onely to answere vnto that which toucheth the authority of my person: for the things which touch The replye of the Emperour. the honour, ought first by word to be answered, and afterwards by sword to be reuenged.
Therefore now beginning my matter, and addressing my words to thee Fuluius, and to that which thou spakest vnto me, asking why I shew my selfe so to all men: I answere thee: It is because al men should giue them selues to me.
Thou knowest well Fuluius, that I haue beene a Consul as thou art, and thou hast not beene an Emperour as I am. Therefore beleeue mee in this case, that the Prince being despised, cannot bee beloued of his people: The gods will not, nor the lawes doe permit, neyther the Commonwealth willingly should suffer, that all Princes should bee Lords of many, and that they should not communicate but with a few: For Princes which haue beene gentle in their liues, the Ancients haue made them gods after their deathes, The Fisher, to fish for many fishes in the riuer, goeth not with one Boate alone, nor the Mariner to fish in the deepe sea, goeth not with one net onely. I meane, that the profound wills, which are deeply in the hearts, ought to bee won some by gifts, other by promises, other by pleasant words, and other by gentle entertainement: For Princes should trauell more to winne the hearts of their Subiects, then to conquere the realmes of strangers:
The greedy and couetous harts care not, though the prince shutteth vp his heart, so that he open his cofers: but Noble and valiant men little esteeme that which they locke vp in their cofers, so that their hearts bee open to theyr friends. For Loue can neuer but with loue againe be requited.
Sith Princes are Lords ouer many, How a Prince ought to behaue himselfe. of necessitie they ought to bee serued with manie: and beeing serued with manie, they are bound to satisfie manie: and this is as generally, as particularly, they cannot dispence with their Seruants. For, the Prince is no lesse bound to pay the seruice of his Seruant, then the maister is to pay the wages of the hyred labourer.
Therefore if this thing be true (as it is) how shall poore Princes do, which keepe many Realmes, and in keeping them they haue great expences, and for to defray such charges, they haue but little money? For in this case, let euery man doe what hee will, and let them take what counsel they like best.
I would counsell all others, as my selfe haue experimented, that is: that the Prince shuld be of so good a conuersation, amongst those which are his,: and so affable and familiar with all, that for his good conuersation onely, they should thinke themselues well apaide. For with rewards, Princes recompence the trauells of theyr Seruants: but with gentle and faire words, they steale and robbe the harts of their subiects.
Wee see by experience, that diuers Marchants had rather buye dearer in one shop, because the merchāt is pleasant, then to buy better cheap in an other, wheras the merchant is churlish. I meane that there are manie, which had rather serue a prince to gaine nothing but loue onely, then to serue an other prince for money. For there is no seruice better imploied, thē to him which is honest, good, and gracious: [Page 120] and to the contrary, none worse bestowed then on him which is vnthākfull and churlish.
In Princes Pallaces there shall neuer want euill and wicked men, malicious The Court neuer without flatterers. and diuelish flatterers, which will seeke meanes to put into theyr Lords heads how they shal raise their rents, leuy Subsidies, inuent tributes, and borrow money: but there are none that will tell them how they shal winne the hearts and good willes of their Subiects, though they know it more profitable to bee well beloued, then necessary to be enriched.
He that heapeth treasure for his Prince, and separateth him from the loue of his people: ought not to bee called a faithfull seruant, but a mortall enemy.
Princes and Lords ought greatly to endeauour themselues to bee so conuersant among their Subiects, that they had rather serue for good Will, then for the payment of money: for if mony want, their seruice wil quaile: and hereof proceedeth a thousand inconueniences vnto Princes, which neuer happen vnto those that haue seruants, which serue more of good will then for money: for hee that loueth with all his heart, is not proude in prosperity, desperate in aduersity: neyther complayneth he of pouertie, nor is discontented being fauourles: nor yet abashed with persecution: & finally, loue and life are neuer separated, vntill they come vnto the graue.
Wee see by experience, that the rablement of the poore Labourers of Sicill is more worth, then the money of the Knight of Rome: For the Labourer euery time he goeth to the field, bringeth some profit frō thence: but euery time the Knight sheweth himselfe in the market place, he returneth without money.
By the comparison, I meane, that Princes should bee affable, easie to talke with all, pleasant, mercifull, benigne, and stout: and aboue all, that they bee gratious and louing, to the end that through these qualities, and and not by money, they may learne to winne the hearts of their subiectes. Princes should greatly labour to bee loued, specially if they will finde who shall succour them in aduersity, and keepe them from euill will and hatred, which those Princes cānot haue that are hated: but rather, euery man reioyceth at their fall and misery: for each man enioyeth his owne trauel, and truly the furious and sorrowfull hearts take some rest, to see that others haue pitty and compassion vpon their griefes.
Princes also should endeauour themselues to bee loued and well willed, because at their death they may of all their seruants and friends bee lamented. For Princes ought to bee such, that they may be prayed for in their life, and lamented and remembred after their death. How cursed is that Prince, and also how vnhappy is that Common-wealth, where the seruants will not serue their Lord, but for reward: and that the Lorde dooth not loue them but for theyr seruices: For there is neuer true loue where there is any particular interest.
With many stones a house is builded, and of many men and one Prince (which is the head of all) the Common wealth is made: For hee that gouerneth the Common wealth may be called a Prince, and otherwise not: and the Common-wealth cannot bee called or sayde a Common wealth, if it hath not a Prince which is the head thereof.
If Geometrie do not deceyue me, the lime which ioyneth one stone with an other, suffereth well that it bee mingled with sand, but the [Page 121] corner-stone that lyeth on the toppe ought to bee medled, with vnsl [...]ked lime. And it soundeth vnto good reason: For if the nether-stones seperate, the wall openeth: but if the corner The loue of the prince to his people. stone should slippe, the building incontinently falleth.
I suppse (Fathers conscript,) you vnderstand very well to what end I applie this comparison. The loue of one neighbour with an other, may suffer to be cold but the loue of a Prince to his people, should bee true and pure.
I meane that the loue amongst frends may passe sometimes although it bee colde: but that loue betweene the King and his people, at al times ought to be perfect. For where there is perfect loue, there is no fayned wordes, nor vnfaithfull seruice.
I haue seene in Rome many debates and hurly-burlyes among the people, to haue bin pacified in one day: and one onely which betweene the Lorde and the Commonwealth ariseth, cannot be pacified vntill death: For it is a dangerous thing for one to striue with many, and for many to contend against one.
In this case, where the one is proud, and the other rebelles, I will not excuse the Prince, nor yet let to condemne the people. For in the end he that thinketh himselfe most innocent, deserueth greatest blame. And from whence thinke you commeth it, that Lords now adayes commaund vniust things by furie? and the Subiects in iust matters will not obey by reason, I will tell you.
The Lord doing of will, and not of right, would cast the wills of all in his own braine, and deriue from himselfe all counsell. For euen as Princes are of greater power then all the rest: so they thinke they knowe more then all the rest.
The contrary hapneth to subiects, who (beeing prouoked, I cannot tell you with what Frensie) despising the good vnderstanding of theyr Lorde, will not obey that which their prince willeth, for the health of them all, but that which euery man desireth particularly: For men now a dayes are so fonde that euery man thinketh the Prince should looke on him alone. The fondnes of our time.
Truely it is a strange thing (though it be much vsed among men) that one man should desire that the garments of all others should be meete for him: which is as vnpossible, as if one mans Armour should arme a whole multitude.
But what shall we be (Fathers conscript and sacred Senate) sith our Fathers left vs this world with such follie: and that in these debates and strifes, wee theyr children, are alwayes in dissention and controuersie, and in this wilfalnes, wee shall also leaue our children and heyres?
How many Princes haue I seen and read of in my time, of my predecessors, which were vtterly vndon, by too much pride and presumption? but I neuer read nor hearde of any, which were destroyed for being courteous, and louing to his subiects.
I will declare by some examples, which I haue read in bookes, to the end that the Lords may see what they Pride the ouerthrow of great personages. win by theyr good conuersation, and what they loose by being too hautie.
The Realme of the Sidonians was greater then that of the Chaldeans in weapons, and inferiour in antiquitie, vnto that of the Assyrians,. In this Realme there was Debastia, which was called a King of Kings, that endured two hundred and xxv. yeeres, because all these Kings were of a commendable conuersation. And another of Debastia, endured no longer then forty yeares. And our ancients tooke pleasure of peace, wherof we are [...]: and were ignorant of the [...] which wee now vse so much.
[Page 122] Alwayes they desired to haue Kings, which should bee good for the Common-wealth in peace, rather then valiant and couragious in the warre: as Homere in his Ilyades saith:
The auncient Egiptians called theyr Kings Epiphanes, and had a custom, that Epiphanes should enter into the temples barefoote: And because it chanced the Epiphane on a time to come into their Church hoased, hee was immediately for his disobediēce depriued and expulsed the Realme, and in his stead an other created.
Homere declareth here, that this king was prowde, and euill conditioned, wherfore the Egyptians depriued him, and banished him the Realme, taking oceasion that hee did not enter into the temple barefoot. For truely when Pride the fall of many great men. Lordes are euill-willed, and not beloued, for a little trifle and occasion the people will arise, and rebell against them.
The said Homer saide also, that the Parthes called theyr Kings Assacides, and that the sixt of that name was depriued and expulsed the Realme: for that of presumption hee bad himselfe to the marriage of a knight, and being bidden and desired, would not goe to the marriage of a poore Plebeyan.
Cicero in his Tusculanes, sayth, That in olde time, the people perswaded theyr Princes to communicate with the poore, and that they should abstaine & flye from the rich: For among the poore they should learne to bee mercifull, and with the rich they shall learne nothing but onely to bee prowd.
Yee knowe right well (Fathers conscript) how this our countrey was first called Great Greece, afterwards it was called Latium, and then Italie.
And when it was called Latium, they called their kings Marrani, and truely although theyr borders were but narrow: yet at the least theyr stoutnesse was great.
The Annales of those times say, that after the thirde Syluius, succeeded a Marrine, who was proude, ambicious, and euill conditioned, in such sorte, that for feare of the people, alwaies he slept locked vp: and therefore they both depriued him, and banished him the Realme: For the auncients sayd, That the king should locke his dores at no houre of the night against his Subiects: neyther he should refuse in the day to giue them audience.
Tarquine which was the last of the seuen Kings of Rome, which was very vnthankfull towards his Father in law, Tarquine noted of vnthankfullnes. he was an infamie to his bloud, a traitour to his countrey, and cruell of his person, who also enforced the Noble Lucretia, and yet notwithstanding this they doe not call him vnthankfull, infamous, cruell, traitour, nor adulterer: but Tarquine the proude: onely for that he was euill conditioned.
By the faith of a good man, I sweare vnto you (Fathers conscript) that if the miserable Tarquin had bin beloued in Rome, hee had neuer bin depriued of the Realme, for committing adulterie with Lucretia. For in the end if euery light offence, which in youth is committed, should bee punished within short space, there should be no Common-wealth.
All these euils both before and after Tarquine, were committed by the ancients in the Romaine Empire, which were such as these, (of this young and light prince) and were nothing in comparison The punishment of Tarqui vnto thee. For truly considering the youth of the one, and the experience of the other: the greatest offence of the young, is but a counterfeit to the least that the olde committeth.
Iulius Caesar last Dictatour, and first Emperour of Rome, (beeing a thing commendable both to Senatours, to salute the Emperour on theyr knees, and to the Emperour, to rise against [Page 123] them, and resalute eache one according to this order (because of presumption, and that he would not obserue this ceremonie,) with xxiii. woundes they dispatched him of his life.
Tiberius was an Emperour, whome they blame for drunkennes. Caligula was an Emperor also, whome they accuse of Incest with his Sisters, Nero was an Emperour, who (for that hee slew his Mother, and his maister Seneca:) hath for euer bin named cruell.
Sergius Galba was a deuouring and a gluttonous Emperor, for that he caused for one onely Banket, seuen thousand Bynds to be killed, Domitian was an Emperour, who was greatly noted of all euils. For all euils which in manie The miserable end of euill Gouernours. were scattered, in him alone were found. All these miserable Princes in the ende were betrayed, hanged, and beheaded. And I sweare vnto ye (Fathers conscript) that they died not for theyr vices, but because they were proud and euill conditioned. For finally, the Prince for one vice onely, cannot much endamage the people: but for being too haultie and presumptuous, and of euill conditions, they may destroy a Commonwealth:
Let Princes and great Lords be assured, that if they giue many occasions of euill example, afterwardes one onely-suffiseth, to stirre theyr subiects to destroy them. For if the Lord shew not his hatred, it is for that hee will not, but if the subiect do not reuenge, it is for that he cannot.
Beleue me (fathers conscript, & sacred Senate,) that euen as the Physition with a little triacle purgeth many euil humors of the body, so the sage Princes, with very litle beneuolence, draw out of theyr Subiects, much rancour and inward filthinesse of heart: diuerting their euill wills into true and faithfull loue.
And because the members should be agreable with the head, in mine opinion it behoueth the people to obey the commaundements of theyr Prince and to doe honour, and to reuerence his person: and the good Prince to bee iust and equall to all in generall, and gentle in conuersation with euery one.
O happy commonwealth, wherein the Prince findeth obedience in the people and the people in like manner loue in the Prince, For the loue of the Lord, springeth obedience in the subiect: and of the obodience of the Subiects, springeth loue in the Lord.
The Emperour in Rome; is, as the Spyder in the midst of her Cobweb: The true patterne of a vertuous Prince. the which beeing touched with the needles point, by one of the threedes of the same (bee it neuer so little) immediately the spyder feeleth it.
I meane, that all the worke which the Emperor doth in Rome, are immediately published throughout all the countrey. For in fine, since princes are the myrrour of all, they can not well cloake theyr vices.
I see (Fathers conscript) that I haue bin iudged here of worldly malice, because I accompanyed the captiues in procession, and also, because I suffered my selfe to bee touched with them, to the ende they might enioye the priuiledge of their libertie: and in this case I render most humble thanks vnto the immortall Gods, because they made mee a mercifull Emperour: to set those at Libertie, that were in prison: and that they made me not a cruell tyrant, to set those in prison, which were at liberty. For the prouerb saith, that with one bean, a man may take 2. pigeons: euē so chanced the like herein yesterday. For the benefite was don for those miserable Captiues: but the example of humanitie was shewed to all strange nations. And know ye not, that whē the prince vnloseth the irons frō the feet of the captiues, he bindeth the harts, goods, and lands of his subiects? [Page 124] Concluding therefore I say, that to the Princes it were more safety, and to the Common wealth more profite, to be serued in their Pallaces by free hearts with loue: then by subiects which are kept vnder by feare.
CHAP. XL. Of a Letter which the Emperour Marcus Aurelius sent to his friend Pulio, declaring the opinion of certaine Philosophers concerning the felicitie of man.
MArcus Aurelius Emperour of Rome, tribune of the people, high Bishop, secōd Consull and Monarche of al the Romane Empire, wisheth to thee Pulio his olde friend, health to thy person, and prosperitie against thy euill fortune. The letter that thou wrotest vnto mee from Capua, I receyued here at Bethinia, and if thou diddest write it with a good heart, I did reade it with willing eyes: wherof thou oughtest somewhat to content thee: For it is an olde saying of Homer, That that which is well viewed with the eyes, is tenderly beloued of A true saying of Homer. the heart. I protest vnto thee by the faith of the immortall gods, that I do not write vnto thee as a Romane Emperour, that is to say, from the Lord to the seruant: for in this sorte, I should write vnto thee briefe, and touching the purpose: which thing ought not to bee done to the peculiar friend: For the Letters of graue men should neuer beginne, and the Letters of vs friends should neuer end. I write vnto thee my friend Pulio, as to a priuate friend, to an olde companion of mine, and as to him, which is a faithfull secretary of my desires, and in whose company I was neuer displeased, in whose mouth I neuer found lye, and in whose promise there was neuer breach made. And the thing being thus. I shuld commit treason in the law of friendship, if I keepe secret from thee any of my inward conceites: for all the griefes which lye buried in the wofull heart, ought not to bee communicated but with a faithfull friend.
Doest thou thinke Pulio, that the Romane Emperour hath little trauell to write vnto thee as Emperour, to speake as Emperour, to walke as Emperour, A description of a perfect friend. and to eate as Emperour: and finally, to bee as Emperour indeed: Certes I do not maruell hereat. For truely the life of the vertuous Emperour, is but a Dyall which ordereth or disordereth the Common-wealth: and that whereof I maruell, is of the folly of Rome, and vanity of the Common wealth. For as much as all say, that the Prince (if he will seem graue, and be well esteemed of the people) ought to goe softly, to speake little, & to write briefly: so that for writing of letters they will he be briefe, and for conquering of strange Realmes, they doe not rebuke him although hee be long.
Wise men should desire that their Princes be of gentle condition, to the end they fall not to tyranny, That they haue their mind vncorrupted to minister to all equall iustice, that their thought bee good, not to desire straunge Realms, that they haue their hearts voide from wrath, that they bee sound within to pardon iniuries, that they loue their Subiects to bee serued of them, that they know the good to honour them, and that they know the euill to punish them: and as for the surplus, we little regard whether the King go fast, whether he eate [Page 125] much, or write briefe. For the danger is not in that which is in the lacke of his owne person: but it is in the negligence that he vseth in the commonwealth.
I haue receyued (my Friend Pulio) great comfort of thy letter, but yet much more I should haue receiued of thy presence: for the letters of auncient friends, are but as a remembrance of times past.
It is a great pleasure to the Mariner, to talke of the perils past (being in the hauen, and to the Captain to glorie of the battell, after the victorie.)
I meane aboue all pleasures this is the What pleasure it is to remember dāgers past. greatest to men, beeing now faithfull friends, to talke of the trauells & dangers which they had passed, when they were young men. Belieue me in one thing, & do not doubt therof: There is no man that knoweth to speak, that knoweth to possesse, nor that cā iudge or take any pleasure, neyther that well knoweth how to keep the goods which the gods haue giuen him, vnlesse it be hee that hath bought it deerely, with great trauell. For with all our hearts wee loue that thing, which with our owne proper labour and trauell wee haue gotten.
I aske thee one thing: who is hee that oweth most to the Gods, or that is most esteemed amongst men? of Traian the iust, which was brought vp in the Warres of Dace, Germanie, and Spaine? or of Nero the cruell, which was nourished in all the deliciousnes of Rome. Truely the one was none other then a Rose among bryers, and the other, was but a Nettle amongst flowers. I spake this, because the good Traian hath gouerned his life in such sorte, that alwayes they will smell the Rose by the pleasant sauour: but the cruell Nero hath left the sting the nettle of his infamie. I will not speake all, because many are, and were made good, but for the most part the princes which were brought vp deliciously; gaue euery man occasion that al shuld be offended, for the euill gouernance of their liues in their Realmes: and because they neuer experimented any kinde of trauell in themselues, they do little esteeme the paines of another.
I will not that thou thinke my friend Pulio, that I haue forgotten the time that is past, though the Gods brought me to the Empire present. For thogh we together were tossed with the torments of youth, yet now wee may repose our selues in the calmes of our age. I do remember, that thou and I did study in Rhodes in letters, and after we had sowen weapons in Capua, it hath pleased the gods that the seedes of my Fortunes should ripen heere in Rome: and to thee, and to others better then I, Fortune would not giue one only eare. I doe not giue thee licence, that thy thought be suspicious of me, sith thou of my hart art made a faithfull Friend: for if vnconstant Fortune doth trust mee, to gather with trauell the grape, know thou that heere in my palace, thou shalt not want of the wine. The Gods will not suffer, that now in this moment, thou shuldst find my heart shut from thee, whose gates Two good properties of Marcus Aurelius. I found alwaies (for the space of twentie yeares) open vnto mee. Sith that my Fortunes wrought me to the Empire, I haue alwayes had two things things before mine eyes: that is to say, not to reuenge my selfe of mine enemies, neither to bee vnthankfull to my friends: For I pray to the Gods daylie, rather then hereafter, through vnthankfulnes my renowm should be defamed: that euen now with forgetfulnes my bodie should be buryed.
Let a man offer to the Gods what sacrifices he will, let him doe as much seruice to men as he can: yet if he be vnthankfull to his friend, hee ought in all, and for all, to bee vtterly condemned. Because thou shouldest see my [Page 126] friend Pulio, how greatly the auncient friend ought to bee esteemed, I will declare thee an example of a Philosopher, the which to heare, thou wilt somewhat reioyce.
The auncient Histories of the Grecians declare, that among the seuen Sages of Greece, there was one named Periander, who was Prince & Gouernour a great while: and he had in him such liuelinesse of Spirit on the one side, and such couetousnesse of worldly goods on the other side, that the Historiographers are in doubte, whether was the greater, the Philosophy that hee taught reading in the Schooles, or the tyranny that hee vsed in robbing the Common-wealth: for truly the science which is not grounded of truth, bringeth great damages to the person.
In the second yeare of my Empire, I was in the City of Corinth, where I saw the Graue which contained the bones of Periander, where about was engrauen in Greeke verses and old letter this Epitaph.
There was more letters on the graue, but because it was alone in the fielde, the great waters had worne it, so that scarsely the letters could bee roade: and truely it was very olde, & in his time it seemed to bee a sumptuous thing, but the negligence of reparation lost it quite: and it is not to bee maruelleed at, for in the end time is of such power, that it causeth [Page 127] renowmed men to be forgotten and all the sumptuousbuildings to decay and fall to the earth.
If thou wilt know, my friend Pulio, in what time the tyrant this Philosopher was, I will thou know, that when Catania the renowned City was builded in Cicilia, neere the Mount Ethna, and when Perdica was the 4. King of Macedonia, and that Cardiced was the third King of the Medes, and when Candare was fift king of the Libeans, and that Assaradoche was ninth King of the Assyrians, and when Merodache was twelfth King of the Caldeaus, and that Numa Pompilius raigned second King of the Romanes: and in the time of those so good Kinges, Periander raigned amongst the Assirians.
And it is meete thou know an other thing also which is this, That this Periander was a Tyrant, not only in deede, but also in renowme: so that they spake of no other thing thorow Greece, but it tended hereunto: Though hee had euill works, hee had good words, and procured that the affayres of the Common-wealth should bee well redressed. For generally, There is no man so good, but a man may finde somewhat in him to bee reproued: neyther any man so euill, but hee hath some thing in him to bee commended.
I doe yet remember (of my age, being neyther too yong, nor too old) that I saw the Emperour Traian my Lord, suppe once in Agrippine: and it so chanced, that wordes were moued to speake of good and euill Princes in times past, as wel of the Greekes as of the Romans, that all those which were present there, cōmended greatly the Emperour Octauian, and they all blamed the cruell Nero: for it is an ancient custom to flatter the princes An vsuall custome among all Nations. that are present and to murmur at Princes that are past.
When the good Emperour Traian was at dinner, and when he praied in the Temple, it was maruell if any man saw him speake any word: and that day, since hee saw that they excessinely praysed the Emperour Octauian, and that the others charged the Emperour Nero with more then needed: the good Traian spake vnto them these words. I am glad you commend the Emperour Octauian, but I am angry you should in my presence speake euill of the Emperour NERO, and of none other: for it is great infamy to a Prince being aliue, to heare in his presence any Prince euill reported after his death. Truely the Emperour Octauian was very good, but yee will not deny me but hee might haue beene better: and the Emperour Nero was very euill: but you will graunt mee hee might haue beene worse. I speake this, because Nero in his first fiue yeares was the best of all, and the other nine following he was the worst of all: so that there is both cause to disprayse him, and also cause to commend him.
When a vertuous man will speake of Princes that are dead before Princes which are aliue, hee is bound to prayse onely one of their vertues that they had, and hath no licence to reueale the vices whereof they were noted: for the good deserueth reward, because he endeauoureth himselfe to follow vertue: and the euill likewise deserueth pardon, because through frailety he hath consented to vice.
All these wordes the Emperour Traian spake, I being present, & they were spoken with such fiercenes, that all those which were there present both chaunged their colour, and also refrayned their tongues. For truly the shamelesse man feeleth not so much a great stripe of correction, as the gentle heart doth a sharpe worde of admonition.
I was willing to shew thee these [Page 128] things, my friend Pulio, because that since Traian spake for Nero, and that hee found in him some prayse, I doe thinke no lesse of the tyrant Periander, whom though for his euill works hee did, wee doe condemne: yet for his good words that he spake, and for the good lawes which hee made, wee doe prayse: For in the man that is euill, there is nothing more easier then to giue good counsell, and there is nothing more harder then to work well,
Periander made diuers lawes for the Common wealth of the Corinthians, whereof here following, I wil declare some.
Wee ordaine and command, that if any by multiplying of wordes kill another (so that it were not by treason) Diuers laws made by to Periander the tyrant. that hee bee not therefore condemned to dye, but that they make him slaue perpetuall to the brother of him that is slaine, or to the next of his kinne or friendes: for a short death is a lesse paine then a long seruitude.
Wee ordaine and commaund, that if any thiefe bee taken, hee shall not dye, but with a hote yron shall bee marked on the forehead to bee knowne for a theefe: for to shamelesse men long infamy is more paine then a short life.
wee ordaine and commaund, that the man or woman, which to the preiudice of an other shall tell any lye, shall for the space of a moneth carry a stone in their mouth: for it is not meete that hee which is wont to lye, should álwayes bee authorized for to speake.
Wee ordaine and commaund, that euery man or woman, that is a quarreller and seditious person in the common wealth, bee with great reproach banished from the people: for it is vnpossible that hee should be in fauour with the gods, which is an enemy to his neighbor.
Wee ordaine and commaund, that if there bee any in the Common wealth, that haue receyued of an other a benefite, and that afterwards it is proued he was vnthankefull, that in such case they put The punishment of ingratitude. him to death: for the man that of benefites receyued is vnthankefull, ought not to liue in the world among men.
Behold therefore my friend Pulio, the antiquity which I declared vnto thee, and how mercifull the Corinthians were to murtherers, theeues and Pirates: And contrary, how seuere they were to vnthankefull people, whom they commaunded forthwith to be put to death.
And truely in mine opinion the Corinthians had reason, for there is nothing troubleth a wise man more, then to see him vnthankefull to him, whom heo hath shewed pleasure vnto. I was willing to tell thee this history of Periander for non other cause but to the end thou shouldest see and know, that for as much as I do greatly blame the vice of vnthankefulnes, I will labour not to bee noted of the same: For hee that reproueth vice, is not noted to be vertuous: but hee which vtterly flyeth it.
Count vpon this my word that I tell thee, which thou shalt not thinke to bee fayned, that though I bee the Romane Emperor, I will be thy faithfull friend, and will not fayle to bee thankeful towards thee. For I esteeme it no lesse glory to know how to keep a friend by wisdome: then to come to the estate of an Emperour by Phylosophy.
By the letter thou sentest, thou requiredst me of one thing to answere thee: for the which I am at my witts end: For I had rather open my treasure to thy necessities, then to open the books to answer to thy demands, although it be to my cost. I confesse thy request to be reasonable, and thou deseruest worthy prayse: for in the end it is more worth to know, how to procure a secret of Antiquities past, then to heape vp treasures for the necessities [Page 129] in time to come.
As the Philosopher maketh Philosophie his treasure of knowledge to liue in peace, and to hope, and to looke for death with honour, so the couetous (being such a one as hee is) maketh his treasure of worldly goods for to keepe and preserue life in this world in perpetual warres, and to end his life, and take his death with infamy. Herein I sweare vnto thee, that one day employed in Philosophy is The commendation of Phylosophy. more worth, then ten thousand which are spent in heaping riches: For the life of a peaceable man is none other then a sweet peregrination: and the life of seditious persons is none other but a long death.
Thou requirest me, my friend Pulio, that I write vnto thee wherein the Ancients in times past had their felicity: know thou that their desires were so diuers, that some dispraysed life, others desired it: some prolonged it, others did shorten it: som did not desire pleasure but trauels, others in trauels did not seeke but pleasures: that which variety did not proceede, but of diuers ends, for the tastes were diuers, and sundry men desired to tast diuers meates. By the immortall gods I swear vnto thee, that this thy request maketh me muse of thy life, to see that my Philosophy answereth thee not sufficiently therein: For if thou aske to proue mee, thou thinkest mee presumptuous: if thou demaund in mirth, thou countest mee to bee too light, if thou demaundest it not in good earnest, thou takest mee to bee simple: if thou demaundest mee for to shew it thee, be thou assured I am ready to learne it: if thou demandest it for to know it, I confesse I cannot teach it thee: if thou demandest it because thou mayest be asked it, be thou assured that none will bee satisfied with my answere: and if perchance thou doest aske it, because sleeping hast dreamed it, seeing that now thou art awake, thou oughtest not to beleeue a dreame: for all that the fantasie in the night doth imagine, the tong doth publish it in the morning.
O my friend Pulio, I haue reason to complaine of thee, for so much as thou doest not regard the authority of my person, nor the credite of thy Philosophy, wherefore I feare least they will iudge thee too curions in demaunding, and mee too simple in answering: all this notwithstanding, I determine to answere thee, not as I ought, but as I can, not according to the great thou demaundest, but according to the little I know, And partly I doe it to accomplish thy request, and also to fulfill my desire. And now I thinke that all which shal reade this letter, will bee cruell Iudges of my ignorance.
Of the Philosopher Epicurius.
IN the Olimpiade: 103. Serges being King of Perses, and The battell betweene the Athenians and Lysander. the cruell tyrant Lysander Captaine of the Peloponenses, a famous battell was fought betweene the Athenians and Lysander, vpon the great Riuer of Aegeon, whereof Lysander had the victory: and truly vnlesse the histories deceyue vs, the Athenians took this conflict grieuously, because the battell was lost more through negligence of their Captaines then through the great number of theyr enemies.
For truely many winne victories more through the cowardlinesse that some haue, then for the hardinesse that others haue. The [Page 130] Philosopher Epicurus at that time florished, who was of a liuely wit, but of a meane stature, and had memorie fresh, being meanely learned in Philosophy, but he was of much eloquēce and for to encourage and counsell the Athenians, he was sent to the warres: For when the Ancients tooke vpon them any warres, they chose first Sages to giue counseil, then Captains to leade the souldiers. And amongst the Prisoners the Philosopher Epicurus was taken, to whom the tyrant Lysander gaue good entertainement and honoured him aboue all other: and after hee was taken, hee neuer went from him, but read Philosophy vnto him, and declared vnto him histories of times past, and of the strength and vertues of many Greekes and Troians. The tyrant Lysander reioyced greatly at these things: For truly tyrants take great pleasure to heare the prowesse and vertues of Ancients past, and to follow the wickednesse and vices of them that are present.
Lysander therefore taking the triumph, and hauing a Nauie by sea, and a great Army by land, vpon the riuer of Aegeon, he and his Captaines forgot the danger of the wars, and gaue the bridle to the flothfull flesh, so that to the great preiudice of the Common wealth they led a dissolute and idle life. For the manner of tyrannous Princes is, to leaue off their ownt trauell, and to enioy that of other mens.
The Philosopher Epicurus was alwayes brought vp in the excellent Vniuersity of Athens, whereas the Philosophers liued in so great pouerty, that naked they slept on the ground: The pouerty of the Philosophers of Athens. their drinke was colde water, none amongst them had any house proper: they despised riches as pestilence, and labored to make peace where discord was, they were onely defenders of the Common wealth, they neuer spake any idle word, and it was a sacriledge amongst them to heare a lye: and finally, it was a Law inuiolable amongst them, that the Philosopher that should bee idle should bee banished, and he that was vicious should be put to death.
The wicked Epicurius forgetting the doctrine of his Master, and not esteeming grauity (whereunto the Sages are bound) gaue himselfe wholly both in words and deedes vnto a voluptuous & beastly kind of life wherin he put his whole felicity. For hee sayde, There was no other felicity for slothfull men, then to sleepe in soft beds: for delicate persons to feele neyther hote nor cold: for fleshly men to haue at their pleasure amorus Dames: for drunkards not to want any pleasant wines, and gluttons to haue their fils of al delicate meats: for herein hee affirmed to consist all worldly felicity.
I doe not maruell at the multitude of his Schollers which hee had, hath, and shall haue in the world. For at this day there are very few in Rome, that suffer not themselues to be mastered with vices: and the multitude of those which liue at their owne wils and sensuality, are infinite. And to tell the truth, my friend Pulio, I do not maruell that there hath been vertuous, neither doe I muse that there hath beene vitious: for the vertuous hopeth to rest himselfe with the Gods in an other World by his well doing: and if the vitious bee vitious, I doe not maruell, though he will goe and engage himselfe to the vices of this world, since he doth not hope, neyther to haue pleasure in this, not yet to enioy rest with the gods in the other. For truly the vnstedfast beleefe of an other life (after this) wherein the wicked shall bee punished, and the good The small hope of the wicked. rewarded causeth that now a dayes the victous and vices raigne so as they doe.
Of the Philosopher Eschilus.
ARtabanus beeing the sixt king of Persians, and Quintus Concinatus the husbandman The Philosopher Aeschilus described. beeing onely Dictator of the Romanes, in the Prouince of Tharse, there was a Philosopher named Aeschilus, who was euill fauoured of countenance, deformed of body, fierce in his lookes, and of a very grosse vnderstanding, but hee was fortunate of credite: for he had no lesse credite amongst the Tharses, then Homer had among the Greekes: They say, that though this Philosopher was of a rude knowledge, yet otherwise he had a very good naturall wit, and was very diligent in harde things, and very patient with these that did him wrong, hee was exceeding couragious in aduersity, and moderate in prosperities. And the thing that I most of all delighted in him was, that hee was courteous and gentle in his conuersation, and both pithie and eloquent in his communication. For that man onely is happy, where all men prayse his life, and no man reproueth his tongue.
The auncient Greekes declare in their Histories, that this Philosopher Aeschilus was the first that inuented Aeschilus the first inuenter of Tragedies. Tragedies, and that got money to represent them: and sith the inuention was new and pleasant, many did not onely follow him, but they gaue him much of their goods.
And maruel not thereat my friend Pulio, for the lightnesse of the Common people is such, that to see vaine things all will runne: and to heare the excellency of vertues, there is not one will goe.
After this Philosopher Aeschylus had written many bookes specially of Tragedies, and that he had afterward trauelled through many Countries & Realmes, at the last hee ended the residue of his life, neare the Isles which are adioyning vnto the Lake of Meatts.
For as the diuine Plato saveth, when the auncient Philosophers were young, they studied, when they came to be men they trauelled, and then when they were old they retyred home.
In mine opinion this Philosopher was wise to do as he did, and no lesse shall men now a dayes bee that will imitate him. For the Fathers of wisdome are Science and Experience: and in this consisteth true knowledge when the man at the last returneth home from the troubles of the World.
Tell me, my friend Pulio, I pray thee, what dooth it profite him that hath learned much, that hath heatd much, that hath knowne much, that hath seene much, that hath beene farre, that hath bought much, that hath suffered much, and hath proued much, that had much, if after great trauell he doth not retire to repose himselfe a little: truly hee cannot be counted wise but a foole that willingly offereth himselfe to trauell, & hath not the wit to procure himselfe rest: for in mine opinion, the life without rest, is a long death.
By chance as this ancient Philosopher was sleeping by the lake Meatis, a Hunter had a Hare with him in a Cage of woode to take other Hares by: whereon the Eagle seazed, which tooke the Cage with the Hare on high: and seeing hee could not eate it, hee cast it downe againe, which fell on the heade of this Philosopher, and killed him.
This Philosopher Aeschylus was [Page 132] demaunded in his life time, wherein the felicity of this life consisted? hee answered, that in this opinion it consisted in sleeping, and his reason was Aeschilus his opinion, wherein the felicity of this life consisted. this, that when wee sleepe the entisements of the flesh do not prouoke vs, nor the enemy persecute vs, neyther the friends do importune vs, nor the colde winter oppresse vs, nor the heate of long Sommer doth annoy vs, nor yet wee are not angry for any thing wee see, nor wee take any care for any thing we heare.
Finally, when wee sleepe, wee feele not the anguishes of the body: neyther suffer the passion of the mind to come.
To this end yee must vnderstand that when they were troubled, hee gaue them drinks, which caused them immediatly to sleepe, so that so soone as the man did drinke it, so soone hee was a sleepe.
Finally, all the study wherein the Epicurians exercised themselues, was in eating and seeking meates: and the chiefe study of this Aeschilus was in sleeping, and hauing soft beds,
Of the Philosopher Pindarus.
IN the yeare of the foundation of the City of Rome, 262. Darius the second of that name, King of Persia, who was the sonne of Histapsie, and in the lynage of Kinges, the fourth King of Persia, Iunius Brutus, and Lucius Collatinus being Consuls in Rome which were the first Consuls that were in Rome.
There was in the great City of Thebes in Egypt, a Philosopher named Pindarus, who was Prince of that Realme. They write of this Philosopher, that in Philosophy he excelled all those of his time, and also in teaching, singing, and playing of Musicke, hee was more excellent then any of all his Predecessors: for the Thebanes affirmed, that there was neuer any seen of such aptnes in speaking and so excellent deliuering of his fingers in playing, as Pindarus was: and moreouer hee was a great Morall Philosopher, but not so excellent in naturall Philosophy: For hee was a quiet and vertuous man, & could better worke then reach, which thing is contrary now a dayes in our Sages of Rome. For they know little, and speake much: and worst of all in their wordes they are circumspect, and in their deedes very negligent. The diuine Plato in his booke that he made of Lawes, mentioneth this Philosopher, and Iunius Rusticus in his Thebaide sheweth one thing of him, and that is, that an Ambassadour of Lides being in Thebes, seeing Pindarus to bee of a vertuous life, and very disagreeable in his words, hee spake vnto him in such words.
O Pindarus, If thy wordes were so limed before men, as thy workes are pure before the Gods, I sweare vnto thee by those Gods that are immortall, that thou shouldest bee as much esteemed in Life, as Promotheus was; and shouldest leaue as much memory of thee after thy death in Egypt, as the great Homere left of his life in Greece.
They demaunded of this Pindarus wherein felicity consisted? hee aunswered: In such sort yee ought to Wherein true felicity consisteth. know, that the inward scule followeth in many things (for the most part) the outward body: the which thing presupposed I say, that hee that feeleth no griefe in his body, may well bee called happy: For truly if the flesh bee not well, the heart can haue no rest.
Therefore according to the counsell [Page 133] of Pindarus, the Thebanes were aboue all other Nations and people most diligent to cure the diseases of their bodies. Annius Seuerus sayth, that they were let bloud euery month for the great aboundance of bloud in their bodies. They vsed euery weeke vnmitations for the full stomackes.
They continued the bathes for to auoide opilations. They carried sweet fauours about them against the euill and infected ayres. And finally, they studyed nought else in Thebes, but to preserue and keepe their bodies as deliciously as they could inuent.
Of the Philosopher Zeno.
IN the Olimpiade 133. Cneus Seruillus, and Caius Brisius then Consuls Of the Philosopher Zeno. in Rome, which were appointed against the Artikes in the moneth of Ianuary, immediately after they were chosen: and in the 29. yeare of the raigne of Ptolomeus Philadelphus, this great Prince Ptolomeus built in the coast of Alexandry a great Tower which hee named Pharo, for the loue of a louer of his named Pharo Dolouina. This Tower was built vpon foure engines of glasse, it was large and high, made foure square, & the stones of the Tower were as bright and shining as glasse, so that the Tower being twenty foot of breadth, if a candle burned within, those without might see the light thereof.
I let thee know my friend Pulio, that the auncient Historiograpers did so much esteeme his building, that they compared it to one of the seuen buildings of the World.
At that time when these thinges flourished, there was in Egypt a Philosopher called Zeno, by whose counsell and industrie Ptolomeus built that so famous a Tower, and gouerned his land. For in the olde time the Princes that in their life were not gouerned by Sages, were recorded after their death in the Register of fooles.
As this Tower was strong, so hee had great ioy of the same, because he kept his dearely beloued Pharo Dolouina therein enclosed, to the end shee should bee well kept, and also well contented. He had his wiues in Alexandria, but for the most part hee continued with Pharo Dolouina. For in the old time, the Perses, Siconians, and the Chaldeans did not marry, but to haue children to enherite theyr goods: and the residue of their life, (for the most part) to leade with their Concubines in pleasure and delight: The Egyptians had it in great estimation that were great Wrestlers, especially, if they were wise men, and aboue all things, they made great defiance against strangers: and all the multitude of wrastlers was continually greate: so there were notable Masters among them. For truly he that dayly vseth one thing, shall at the last be excellent therein.
The matter was thus: That one day amongst them, there were many Egyptians, there was one that would not bee ouerthrowne, nor cast by any man vnto the earth.
This Philosopher Zeno perceyuing the strength and courage of this great Wrastler: thought it much for his estimation if he might throw him in wrastling, and in prouing he threw The strength of Zeno. him dead to the earth, who of none other could euer be cast.
This victory of Zeno was so greatly to the contentation of his person, that hee spake with his tongue, and wrote with his penne, that there was none other ioy or felicity, then to know how to haue the strength of the Armes to [Page 134] cast downe others at his feet. The reason of this Philosopher was, that hee sayde it was a greater kinde of victory to ouerthrow one to the erth, then to ouerthrow many in the wars: For in the warres one onely wrongfully taketh the victory, since there bee many that doe winne it: but in wresiling, as the victory is to one alone, so let the onely victory and glory remaine to him, and therefore in this thing felicity consisteth: for what can bee more, then the contention of the heart. Truly wee call him in this world happy that hath his heart content, and his body in health. Wherein felicity consisteth.
Of the Philosopher Anacharsis.
WHen the King Heritaches raigned among the Medes, and that Tarquin Priscus raigned in Rome, there was in the coasts of Scithia a Philosopher called Anacharsis, who was borne in the City of Epimenides. Cicero greatly commended the doctrine of this Philosopher, and that he cannot tell which of these two things were greater in him, that is to say, the profoundnesse of Knowledge that the Gods had giuen him, or the cruell malice wherewith he persecuted his enemies. For truely as Pithagoras saith. Those which of men are most euill willed, of the gods are best beloued.
This Philosopher Anacharsis then being as he was of Scithia (which nation amongst the Romanes was esteemed Barbarous) it chaunced, that a malitious Romane sought to displease the Philosopher in wordes: and truely hee was moued thereunto, more through malice then thorow simplicity: For the outwarde malitious words are a manifest token of the inward malitious hart.
This Romane therefore sayde to the Philosopher: It is vnpossible Anacharsis that thou shouldest bee a Scithian borne: for a man of such eloquence cannot bee of such a Barbarous Nation? To whome Anacharsis answered:
Thou hast sayde well, and herein I assent to thy wordes, howbeit I doe not allow thy intention: for as by reason thou mayest disprayse mee to bee of a barbarous Country, and commend mee for a good life: so I may iustly accuse thee of a wicked life, and prayse thee of a good Country.
And herein bee thou Iudge of both, which of vs two shall haue the most praise in the World to come: neyther thou that art borne a Romane, and leadest a barbarous No respect of persons with God. life: or I that am borne a Scythian, and leade the life of a Romane: For in the end, in the Garden of this life I had rather bee a greene Apple-tree and beare fruit, then to bee a drie Liban drawne on the ground.
After that Anacharsis had been in Rome a long time, and in Greece, hee determined for the loue of his Country (now being aged) to return home to Scythia, whereof a brother of his named Cadmus was King, who had the name of a King, but in deede hee was a tyrant,
Since this good Philosopher sawe his brother exercise the workes of a Tyrant, and seeing also the people so desolate, hee determined to giue his brother the best counsell he could, to ordayne lawes to the people, and in good order to gouerne them: which thing being seene of the Barbarous, by the consent of them all, as a man, who inuented new deuises to liue in the World, before them all, openly was put to death.
For I will thou know O my friend Pulio, that there is no greater token that the whole Common [Page 135] wealth is full of vice: then when they kill or banish those which are vertuous therein: so therefore as they led this Philosopher to death, he sayd hee was vnwilling to take his death, and loath to lose his life: wherefore one sayde vnto him these wordes: Tell me Anacharsis, sith thou art a man so vertuous, so sage, and so olde, me thinketh it should not grieue thee to leaue this miserable life: For the vertuous man should desire the company of the vertuous men, the which this world wanteth: The Sage ought to desire to liue with other Sages; whereof the world is destitute: and the olde man ought little to esteeme the losse of his life, since by true experience hee knoweth in what trauels he passed his dayes: For truely it is a kind of folly for a man which hath trauelled and finished a dangerous and long iourney, to lament to see himselfe now in the end thereof,
Anacharsis answered him. Thou speakest very good words my friend, and I would that thy life were as thy counsell is: but it grieueth mee that in this conflict I haue neyther vnderstanding, nor yet sense to taste, not that I haue time enough to thanke thee: For I let thee know, that there is no tongue can expresse the griefe which a man feeleth, when hee ought forthwith to dye. I dye, and as thou seest they kill me onely for that I am vertuous, I feele nothing that tormenteth my heart so much, as King Cadmus my brother doth, for that I cannot bee reuenged: For in my opinion the chiefe felicity of man consisteth in knowing, and being able to reuenge the iniurie done without reason, before a man doth end his life.
It is a commendable thing that the Philosopher pardon iniuries (as The opinion of Anacharsis. the vertuous Philosophers haue accustomed to doe) but it should bee also iust, that the iniuries which wee forgiue, the Gods should therewith bee charged to see reuengement: For it is a hard thing to see a tyrant put a vertuous man to death, and neuer to see the Tyrant to come to the like,
Mee thinketh my friend Pulio, that this Philosopher put all his felicity in reuenging an iniurie, during the like in this world.
Of the Sarmates.
THe Mount Caucasus as the Cosmographers say, doth deuide in the middest great Asia, the which beginneth in Indea, and endeth in Scithia, and according to the variety of the people which inhabite the villages, hath this mount diuers names, and those which dwell towards the Indians differ much from the others. For the more the Countrey is full of mountaines, so much the more the people are Barbarous. Amongst all the other Cities which are adiacent vnto the same, there is a kinde of people called Sarmates, and that is the Countrey of Sarmatia, which standeth vpon the riuer of Tanays. There grow no vines in the Prouince, because of the great colde: and it is true, that among all the Orientall nations there are no people, which more desire Wine then they doe: For the thing which wee lacke is commonly most desired.
These people of Sarmatia are good men of Warre, though they are vnarmed, they esteeme not much delicate meates, nor sumptuous The felicity of the Sarmatians. apparrell: for all their felicity consisteth in knowing how they might fill themselues with Wine.
In the yeare of the foundation of Rome, p 318. our auncient Fathers determined to wage battell against those people, and other Barbabarous [Page 136] Nations, and appointed a Consull called Lucius Pius. And sith in that warres fortune was variable, they made a Truce, and afterwardes all their Captaines yeelded themselues and their country into the subiection of the Romane Empire, onely because the Consull Lucius Pius in a banquet (that hee made) filled them with Wine.
The sacred Senate set this Epitaph here, because all Romane Captaines, should take example of him: For the Maiesty of the Romanes consisteth not in vanquishing their enemies by vices and deliciousnesse, but by weapons and prayers,
The Romanes were very sore grieued with the and a city of this Consull Lucius Pius, and not contented to haue beheaded him, and to haue set on his graue so defamous a title: but made proclamation forthwith thorow out all Rome by the sound of a Trumpet, how al that Lucius Pius had done, the sacred Senate condemned for nothing, and should stand to no An ancient custome in Rome. effect: For there was an auncient Law in Rome, when they beheaded any by iustice, they should also take away the authority hee had in Rome.
After the warres were ended, and all the land of Sarmatia subiect, the Consull Lucius Pius came to Rome, & for reward of his trauell, required the accustomed triumph: the which was not onely denyed him, but also in recompence of his fact, hee was openly beheaded, and by the decree of all the Senate, about his graue was written this Epitaph.
And not contented with these things the sacred Senate wrote to the Sarmates, that they did release them of their homage, making themselues subiects of the Romanes: wherefore they restored them againe to their liberty.
They did this thing because the custome among the stoute and valiant Romanes was, not to gette nor winne Realmes in making their enemies drunke with delicate Wines, but in shedding their proper bloud in plaine field.
I haue tolde thee this my friend Pulio, because the Consull Lucius Pius did perceyue that the Sarmates put all their felicity to ingorge themselues with wine.
Of the Philosopher Chylo.
IN the 15. Dinastia of the Lacedemonians, and Deodeus beeing King of Medes, Gigion being king of Lides, Argeus being king among the Macedonians, and Tullius Hostilius king of the Romaines: in the Olympiade 27. there was in Athens a Phylosopher borne in Greece, whose name was Chylo: one of the seuen Sages, which the Greekes had in theyr treasurie.
In that time there was great warres betweene the Athenians, and the Corinthians, as wee may perceyue by the Greeks histories which we see written.
Since Troy was ruinated and destroyed, there was neuer peace in Greece, for the warres betwixte the Warres in Greece, euer since the destruction of Troy. Greeks and Troyans was neuer so great as that which afterwards they made among themselues.
Sith the Greekes were now wise mē, they did deuide the offices of the Commonwealth, according to the ability of euery person, that is to know, that to the stoute and hardy men they gaue the gouernment: to the sage they recommended the Embasies of of strange countreys.
And vpon this occasion the Athenians sent the Phylosopher Chilo to the Corinthians to treate of peace, who came vnto the cittie of Corinth.
By chaunce on that day there was celebrated a great Feast, wherefore hee found all men playing at dice, the women solacing themselues in theyr gardens: the Priestes shorte with theyr crosse-bowes in the Temples: the Senatours played in the consistory at tables: the maisters of Fence played in the streetes: And to conclude, hee found them all playing.
The Philosopher seeing these things, without speaking to any man, or lighting off from his horse, returned to his countrey, without declaring his message: and when the Corinthians went after him, and asked him why hee did not declare the cause of his comming, he aunswered:
Friends, I am come from Athens to Corinth, not without great trauell, and now I returne from Corinth to Athens not lattle offended: and yee might haue seene it, because I spake neuer a word to any of you of Corinth: For I haue no commission to treate of peace with vnthrifty players, but with sage gouernours. Those of Athens commaunded mee not to keepe Idlenes and pastimes hated by the philosopher company with those that haue theyr hāds occupyed with Dyce: but with those that haue theyr bodyes loden with harnes, and with those which haue theyr Eyes dazeled with Bookes. For those men which haue warres with the Dyce, it is vnpossible they should haue peace with theyr Neighbours.
After he had spoken these words, he returned to Athens. I let thee vnderstand my friende Pulio, that the Corinthians thinke it to be the greatest felicity in the world to occupy dayes and nights in playes: and maruel not hereat, neither laugh thou them to scorne. For it was told mee by a Greeke being in Antioche, that a Corinthian esteemed it more felicitie to winne a game, then the Romaine Captaine did to winne a Triumph.
As they say the Corinthians were wise and temperate men, vnlesse it were in Playes, in the which thing they were too vicious. Me thinke my friend Pulio, that I answer thee more amply then thou requirest, or that my health suffereth, that which is little: so that both thou shalt be troubled to read it, and I here shall haue paine to write it.
I will make thee a briefe summe of all the others which now come to my remembrance, the which in diuersethings haue put theyr ioy and chiefest felicities.
Of Crates the Philosopher.
CRates the Philosopher put his felicity to haue good fortune in prosperous nauigation, saying, that Crates the Philosopher hee which sayleth by sea, can neuer haue perfect ioy at his his heart, so long as hee confidereth that between death and life there is but one bourd: Wherefore the heart neuer feeleth so great ioy, as when in the Hauen he remembreth the perils which hee hath escaped on the sea.
Of Estilpho the Philosopher.
EStilpho the Philosopher put all his felicity to bee of great power, Estilpho. saying, that the man which can doe little, is worth little, and he that hath little, the gods doe him wrong to let him liue so long: For hee onely is happy which hath power to oppresse his enemies, and hath wherewithall to succour himselfe, and reward his friendes.
Of Simonides the Philosopher.
SImonides the Philosopher put all his felicity to bee well beloued Simonides. of the people, saying, That churlish men and euill conditioned, should bee sent to the mountaines amongst brute beasts, For there is no greater happinesse or felicity in this life, then to bee beloued of all in the Common-wealth.
Of Archita the Philosopher.
ARchita the Phylosopher, had all his felicitie in conquering a Bartell, Archita. saying that naturally man is so much friend to himselfe, and desireth so much to come to the chiefe of his enterprise: that though for little trifles he played, yet he would not bee ouercome: For the heart willingly suffereth all the trauels of the life, in hope afterwardes to win the victory.
Of Gorgias the Philosopher.
GOrgias the Philosopher put al his felicity to heare a thing which Gorgias. pleased him, saying, That the body feeleth not so much a great wound, as the heart doth an euill word: For truely there is no musicke that soundeth so sweete to the eares, as the pleasant wordes are sauourie to the heart.
Of Chrysippus the Philosopher,
CHrysippus the Philosopher had all his felicity in this Worlde, Chrysippus. in making great buildings, saying, that those which of themselues left no memory, both in their life, and after their death deserued infacny: For great and sumptuous buildings, are perpetuall monuments of noble courages.
Of Antisthenes the Philosopher.
ANtisthenes the Philosopher put al his felicity in renowne after his Antistenes. death. For sayeth hee, there is no losse but of life, that flitteth without fame: For the Wise man needeth not feare to die: so he leaue a memory of his vertuous life behinde him.
Of Sophocles the Philosopher.
SOphocles had al his ioy in hauing children, which should possesse the inheritance of their Father: Sophocles. saying that the graft of him, that hath no children, surmounteth aboue all other sorrowes: for the greatest felicity in this life is to haue honour & riches, and afterwardes to leaue children which shall inherite them.
Of Euripides the Philosopher.
Euripides the Philosopher had all his ioy in keeping a fayre woman, Euripides. saying his tongue with wordes could not expresse the griefe which the hart endureth, that is accombred with a foule woman: therefore of of truth, hee which hapneth of a good & vertuous woman, ought of right in his life to desire no more pleasure.
Of Palemon the Philosopher.
PAlemon put the felicity of men in Palemon. eloquenee, saying and swearing that the man that cannot reason of all things, is not so like a reasonable man, as he is a brute beast: for according to the opinions of many, there is no greater felicity in this wretched world, then to be a man of a pleasant tongue, and of an honest life.
Of Themistocles the Philosopher.
THemistocles put all his felicity, Themistocles. in discending from a Noble lynage, saying, that the man which is come of a meane stocke, is not bound to make of a renowmed fame: for truly the vertues and prowesses of them that are past, are not but an example to moue them to take great enterprises which are present.
Of Aristides the Philosopher.
ARistides the Philosopher put all his felicity in keeping temporal goods saying, that the man Aristides. which hath not wherwith to eate, nor to sustaine his life, it were better coū sell for him, of his free will to goe into the graue, then to do any other thing: For he onely shall bee called happy in this world, who hath no neede to enter into an other mans house.
Of Heraclitus the Philosopher.
HEraclitus put al his felicity in heaping Heraclitus. vp treasure, saying that the prodigall man, the more begetteth, the more he spendeth, but he hath the respect of a wise man, who can keep a secret treasure for the necessitie to come. Thou hast now sufficiently vnderstood my friend Pulio that 7. moneths since, I haue been taken with the feuer quartaine, and I sweare vnto thee by the immortall Gods, that at this present instant writing vnto thee, my hand [Page 140] shaketh which is an euident token, that the colde doth take mee, wherefore I am constrained to conclude this matter which thou demaundest mee although not according to my desire: For amongst true friendes, though the workes doe cease wherewith they serue: yet therefore the inward parts ought not to quaile, wherwith they loue.
If thou doest aske mee my friend Pulio, what I thinke of all that is aboue spoken, and to which of those I doe sticke: I answere thee: That in this No perfect felicity in this world. World I doe not graunt any to bee happy, and if there be any, the gods haue them with them: because on the one side, chosing the plaine and drye way without clay, and on the other side all stony and myerie, wee may rather call this life the precipitation of the euill, then the safegard of the good.
I will speake but one word onely, but marke well what thereby I meane which is, that amongst the mishaps of fortune wee dare say, that there is no felicitie in the World: And hee onely is happy from whom wisdome hath plucked enuious aduersity, and that afterwards is brought by wisedome to the highest felicitie. And though I would, I cannot endure any longer, but that the immortall Gods haue thee in their custody, and that they preserue vs from euill fortune: Sith thou art retired now vnto Bethinie, I know well thou wouldest I should write thee some newes from Rome, and at this present there are none, but that the Carpentines and Lusitaines are in great strife & dissention in Spaine.
I receiued letters how that the barbarous were quiet, though the Host that was in Ilium were in good case: yet notwithstanding the Army is somwhat fearefull and timorous. For in all the coast and borders, there hath beene a great plague.
Pardon me my friend Pulio, for that I am so sickly, that yet I am not come to my selfe: for the feuer quartane is so cruel a disease, that he which hath it, contenteth himselfe with nothing, neyther taketh pleasure in any thing. I send thee two of the best horses that can be found in al Spaine: and also I send thee two cups of gold of the richest that can bee found in Alexandria. And by the law of a good man I sweare vnto thee, that I desire to send thee two or three howers of those which trouble mee in my feuer quartane.
My wife Faustine saluteth thee and of her part, and mine also to Cassia thy olde mother, and noble Widdow we haue commended. Marcus the Romane Emperour with his own hand writeth this, and againe commendeth him vnto his deere friend Pulio.
CHAP. XLI. That Princes and great Lords ought not to esteeme themselues for being fayre, and well proportioned,
IN the time that Ioshua triumphed amongst the Hebrewes, and that Dardanus passed from great Greece to Samotratia, and when the sons of Egenor were seeking their sister Europe, and in the time that Siculus raigned in Scicil, in great Asia, in the realme of Egypt, was builded a great City called Thebes, the which K. Busiris built, of whom Diodorus Siculus at large mentioneth. Plinie in the 36. Chapter of his naturall history, and Homer in the second of his Iliades, & Statius in al the booke of his Thebiade doe declare great [Page 139] maruels of this City of Thebes, which thing ought greatly to bee esteemed, for a man ought not to thinke that fayned which so excellent authours haue written. A description of the City of Thebes.
For a truth they say, that Thebes was in circuit forty miles, and that the walles were thirty stades hie and in bredth sixe.
They say also that the City had a hundred gates very sumptuous and strong, and in euery gate two hundred Horsemen watched.
Through the midst of Thebes passed a great riuer, the which by milles and fish did greately profite the City.
When Thebes was in his prosperity, they say, that there was two hundred thousand fires, and besides all this, all the Kings of Egypt were buried in that place.
As Strabo sayeth, De situ orbis, when Thebes was destroyed with enemies, they found therein seuenty seuen Strabo de situ orbis. Tombes of Kings which had bin buried there.
And here is to bee noted, that all those tombes were of vertuous kings: for among the Aegyptians it was a law A Law among the Aegyptians inuiolable, that the King which had beene wicked in his life should not bee buried after his death: Before the noble and worthy Numantia was founded in Europe, the rich Carthage in Affricke, and the hardy Rome in Italy, the goodly Capua in Campaigne, and the great Argentine in Germanie, and the holy Helia in Palestine: Thebes onely was the most renowmed of all the World: For the Thebanes amongst all Nations were renowned, as well for their riches, as for their buildings, and also because in their lawes and customes they had many notable and seuere things, and all the men were seuere in their works, although they would not bee knowne by their extreame doings. Homer saith that the Thebanes had fiue customes, wherein they were more extreame then any other Nation.
1 The first was, that the children drawing to fiue yeeres of age, were marked in the forehead with a hot Iron, because in what places soeuer they came they should be knowne for Thebanes by the marke.
2 The second was, that they should accustome their children to trauaile alwayes on soote. And the occasion why they did this was, because the Egyptians kept their beasts for their Gods: and therefore whensoeuer they trauelled, they neuer rid on horsebacke, because they should not seeme to sit vpon their god.
3 The third was that none of the Citizens of Thebes should marry with any of strāge nations, but rather caused thē to mary parents with parents, because the friendes marrying with friends they thought the friendship and loue should be more sure.
4 The fourth custome was, that no Thebane should in any wise make a house for himselfe to dwell in, but first By the example of the Thebanes is shewed the duty of euery Christian. hee should make his graue wherein hee should bee buried.
[...] Mee thinketh that in this point the Thebanes were not too extreame, nor excessiue, but that they did like sage and wise men: yea and by the law of verity I sweare, that they were sager then wee are. For if at least we did imploy our thought but two houres in the weeke to make our graue: It is vnpossible but that wee should correct euery day our life,
3 The fift custome was, that all the boyes which were exceeding fayre in theyr face, should be by them strangled in the cradell: and all the gyrles which were extreame foule, were by them killed and sacrificed to the Gods. Saying, that the Gods forgot themselues, when they made the men fayre, and the women foule: [Page 142] For the man which is very fayre, is but an vnperfect woman: and the woman which is extreame foule, is but a sauage and wilde beast.
The greatest God of the Thebanes, was Isis who was a red bull nourished in the riuer of Nile, and they had a custome, that all those which had red haire immediate should be sacrifised. The contrary they did to the beasts, for sith their God was a Bull of tawny colour, none durst bee so bold to kill any beasts of the same colour. In such forme and maner, that it was lawful to kill both men and women, and not the brute beasts.
I doe not say this well done of the An in humane custome among the Thebans. Thebanes to slay their children, nor yet I do say that it was well done to sacrifise men and women, which had red or tawny haire, nor I thinke it a thing reasonable, that they should doe reuerence to the beasts of that colour: but I wonder why they should so much despise foule women and faire men, sith all the world is peopled both with with faire and foule. Then sith those barbarous (liuing as they did vnder a false law) did put him to death, whom the gods had adorned with any beautie: we then which are Christians by reason ought much lesse to esteeme the beauty of the body: knowing that most commonly thereupon ensueth the vncleannesse of the soule.
Vnder the Christall stone lyeth ofttimes a dangerous worme, in the faire wall is nourished the venomous Coluler, within the middle of the white tooth is ingendred great paine to the gummes, in the finest cloth the moths do most hurt, and the most fruitfull tree by wormes is soonest perished. I meane, that vnder the cleane bodyes and faire countenances, are hid many and abominable vices. Truly not onely to children which are not wise, but to all other which are light and frayle, beutie is nothing else but the mother of many vices, and the hinderer of all vertues. Let Princes and great Lords beleeue me, which thinke to be fayre and well disposed, that where there is great aboundance of corporall goods Beauty the mother of vices. and graces, there ought to be great bones of vertues to bee able to beare them. For the most high trees by great winds are shaken: I say, that it is vanity to bee vaine glorious in any thing of this world be it neuer so perfit: and also I say that it is a great vanitie to bee prowd, of corporall beautie. For among all the acceptable gifts that nature gaue to the mortals, there is nothing more superfluous in man, and lesse necessary, then the beauty of the body. For truly whether be we faire or foule, we are nothing the better beloued of God, neither thereby the more hated of men, O blindnesse of the world! O life which neuer liueth! O death which neuer shall end! I know not why man through the accident of this beauty should or durst take vpon him any vaine glory or presumption: sith he knoweth that all the fairest, and most perfitest of flesh, must be sacrificed to the wormes in the graue. And know also, that all the propernesse of the members shall be forfeited to the hungrie wormes which are in the earth.
Let the great scorne the little as much as they will, the fayre mocke the foule at their pleasure, the whole disdaine the sicke, the well made enuy the deformed, the white hate the blacke, and the Giants despise the Dwarfes: yet in the ende all shall haue an ende. Truly in my opinion, the trees beare Time the consumer of al things not the more fruit, for that they are straight onely, nor for being high, neither for giuing great shadow, nor for being beautifull, nor yet for being great. By this comparison I meane, that though a noble and stout man be proper of person, and noble of linage, shadowing of fauor, comely in countenance, in renowne very high, and in the commonwealth puissant, that [Page 143] therefore he is not the better in this life.
For truely the common wealthes are not altered by the simple laborers which trauell in the fields: but by the vicious men which take great ease in their liues. Vnlesse I be deceiued, the Swine and other beasts are fed vnder The smalest creatures profitable in the commonwealth. the Oakes with the Acornes, and among the pricking briers and thorns the sweet Roses doe grow, the sharpe Beech giueth vs the sauory chestnuts. I meane, that deformed and little creatures oft times are most profitable in the commonwealth. For the litle and sharpe countenances, are signes of valiant and stout hearts.
Let vs cease to speak of men which are fleshly, being eftsoons rotten and gone, and let vs talke of sumptuous buildings which are of stone, which if we should goe to see what they were, we may know the greatnesse and the height of them. Then wee shall not know the manner of their beauty: and that which seemed to be perpetuall, in short space we see it end, and lose the renowme, in such sort that there is neuer memory of them hereafter.
Let vs all leaue the ancient buildings & come to the buildings now a dayes, and none shall see that there is no man that maketh a house, bee it neuer so strong nor faire, but (liuing a little while) he shall see the beautie thereof decay. For there are a great number of ancient men, which haue seene both the tops of famous and strong buildings made, and the foundation and ground thereof decayed. And that this is true it appeareth manifestly, for that if the toppe decay, or the wals fall, or else if the timber bee weake, or the ioynts open, or the windowes waxe rotten, or the gates doe breake, the buildings forthwith decay.
What shall we say of goodly halls & galleries well appointed, the which within short space, by coles or candles of children, or by torches of pages, or smoke of chimneys, by cobwebs of spiders, become as drie and foule, as before they were fresh and faire.
Then if that bee true which I haue sayd of these things, I would now gladly know, what hope man can haue of the countenance of his beautie, since wee see the like destruction of corporall beauty, as of stones, wood, bricke and clay.
O vnprofitable Princes, O children too foolish hardy, do you not remember that all your health is subiect to sicknes, as in the pain of the stomack, in the heate of the liuer, the inflammation of the feete, in the distemperance of humors, in the motions of the aire, in the coniunctions of the Moon in the Eclipse of the Sunne: I say doe you not know that you are subiect to the tedious Summer, and vntollerable Winter? Of a truth I cannot tell how you can be (among so many imperfections and corruptions) so full of vaine glory, by your beauty, seeing & knowing that a litle feuer doth not onely deface and man the beauty, but also maketh and coloureth the face all yealow, bee it neuer so well fauoured.
I haue maruelled at one thing, that is to say, that all men are desirous to haue al things about their body clean their gownes brushed, their coates neate, their table handsome, and the bed fine, and onely they suffer their soules to be foule, spotted and filthy. I durst say, and in the faith of a Christian affirme, that it is a great lacke of wisedome, and a superfluity of folly, for a man to his haue house clean, & to What folly it is for man not to regard his own soule. suffer his soule to be corrupted. I wold know what preheminence they haue which are fair, aboue others to whom nature hath denyed beautie.
Peraduenture the beautifull man [Page 142] hath two soules, and the deformed creature but one? peraduenture the most fairest are the most healthfull, and the most deformed are the most sickliest: peraduènture the most fairest are the wisest, and the most deformed the most innocent: peraduenture the fairest are most stout, and the deformed most cowards: peraduenture the faire are most fortunate, and the foole most vnluckiest: peraduenture the faire only are accepted from vice, and the foule depriued from vertue: peraduenture those which are faire, of right haue perpetuall life, and those which are foule, are bound to replenish the graue: I say no certainely.
Then if this be true, why doe the great mocke the little, the faire the foule, the right the crooked, and the white the blacke, since they know that the vaine glory which they haue, and their beauty also, shall haue an end to day or tomorrow.
A man that is faire and well proportioned, is therefore nothing the more vertuous: and he that is deformed and euil shapen, is nothing therfore the more vicious: so that vertue dependeth not at all of the shape of body, neither yet vice proceedeth of the deformity of the face. For dayly wee see the deformity of the body to be beautified with the vertues of the The vertue of the mind beautifieth the whole body. minde: and the vertues of the minde, to be defaced with the vice of the body in his works. For truely he that in the vsage of his life hath any botch or imperfection, is worse then he that hath foure botches in the shoulders.
Also I say, that though a man be great, yet it is not true that therefore he is strong: so that it is not a generall rule, that the big body hath alwayes a valiāt couragious heart nor the man which is of little person, should be of a vile and false heart. For we see by experience, the greatest men, the most cowards: and the least of personage, the most stout and hardy of heart.
The holy Scipture speaketh of king Dauid, that he was red in his countenance, and not big of body, but of a meane stature, yet notwithstanding as he and the mighty Giant Goliah were in campe, Dauid killed Goliah with a sling, and with his owne sword cut of his head.
We ought not maruaile, that a litle sheapheard should slay so valiant and mighty a Giant. For ofttimes of a litle spark cōmeth a great light: & cōtrariwise by a great torcha man can searcely see to do any thing: This king Dauid did more, that hee being little of body, and tender of yeares, killed the Lyons, and recoured the lambes out of the wolues throtes: & besides this, in one day in a battle with his owne hands, he slue to the number of 800. men. Though wee cannot finde the like in our time, we may wel imagine, that of the 800. which he slew, there were at least 300. of them as noble of linage as he, as rich in goods, as faire in countenance, & as high of stature: but none of these had so much force and courage, since he escaped aliue, and they remained in the field dead. Though Iulius Caesar was big enough of body, yet notwithstanding he was The deformity of Iulius Caesar. euill proportioned: For he had his head all bald, his nose very sharpe, one hand more shorter then the other. And albeit he was yong, he had his face riuelled, his colour somewhat yellow, and aboue all he went somewhat crooked, and his girdle was half vndone. For men of good wits do not imploy themselues to the setting out of their bodies. Iulius Caesar was so vnhandsome in his body, that after the battle of Pharsalique, a neighbour of Rome said vnto the great Orator Tullius.
Tell me Tullius, why hast thou followd the partialities of Pompeius since thou art so wise, knowest thou not [Page 145] that Iulius Caesar ought to be Lord & Monarch of al the world? Tullius answered. I tell thee true my friend, that I seeing Iulius Caesar in his youth so euill and vnseemely girded, iudged neuer to haue seene that, that is seene of him, and did neuer greatly regard him. But the old Sylla knew him better. For he seeing Iulius Caesar so vncomly, and so slouenly apparrelled in his youth, oftentimes saide vnto the Senate: beware of this yong man so euill marked. For if you do not watch well his proceeding, it is he that shall hereafter destroy the Romaine people, as Suetonius Tranquillus affirmeth in the booke of Caesar.
Albeit that Iulius Caesar was vncomlie in his behauior, yet in naming onely his name he was so feared through the world, as if by chance any king or Princes did talke of him at their table as after supper, for feare they could not sleepe that night vntill the next day. As in Gallia Gotica where Iulius Caesar gaue battell, by chance a French knight tooke a Caesarian knight prisoner, who beeing led prisoner by the Frenchmen, said Chaos Caesar, which is to say: Let Caesar alone. Which the Gaulloys hearing the name of Caesar, let the prisoner escape, and without any other occasion hee fell besides his horse.
Now then let Princes and great Lords see, how little it auaileth the valiant man to bee faire or foule, sith that Iulius Caesar being deformed, only with naming his name, caused all men to feare to change their countenance, Hanniball the aduenterous captaine of Carthage is called monstruous not onely for his deedes he did in the world: but also for the euill proportion of his bodie. For of his two eyes he lacked the right, and of his two feete he had the left foote crooked, and aboue all, he was little of body, and verie fierce and cruell of countenance.
The deeds and conquests which Hanniball did among the people of Rome, Titus Liuius declareth at large: yet I will recite one thing which an The valiant deeds of Hanniball. Historiographer declareth, and it is this.
Frontine in the book of stoutenesse of the Penians declareth, that in seuenteene yeeres that Hannibal warred with the Romaines, he slue so great a number that if the men had bin conuerted into Kine, and that the blood which was shed had beene turned into Wine, it had beene sufficient to haue filled and satisfied his whole armie being foure score thousand footmen, and seuenteene thousand horsemen in his campe.
I demand now, how many were at that time fairer and more beautifull of their bodyes and countenance, then he was, whose beautie at this day is forgotten, whereas his valiantnesse shall endure for euer.
For there was neuer any Prince that left of him eternall memorie, only for being beautiful of countenance: but for enterprising great things with the sword in the hand.
The great Alexander was no fairer nor better shapen then another man. For the Chronicles declare of him, The description of Alexander. that he had a litle throte, a great head a blacke face, his eyes somewhat troubled, the body little, and the members not well proportioned, and with all his deformitie hee destroyed Darius, king of the Perses and Medes, and he subdued all the tyrants: he made him selfe Lord of all the Castles, and took many kings, and disherited and slue mightie Lords of great estate, hee searched all their riches, and pilled all their treasors, and aboue all things all the earth trembled before him, not hauing the audacitie to speake one word against him.
Of a letter the Emperour Marcus Aurelius wrote to his Nephew, worthie to be noted of all yong Gentlemen. CHAP. XLII.
SExtus Cheronensis, in his second booke of the life of Marcus Aurelius declared, that this good Marcus Aurelius had a sister called Annia Melena, the which had a sonne named Epesipus, who was not onely nephew, but also Disciple to Marcus Aurelius. And after he was created Emperour, he sent his nephew into Greece to study the Greeke tongue, and to banish him from the vices of Rome.
This yong Epesipus was of a good and cleare iudgement, well made of his body, and faire of countenance: and sith in his youth he esteemed his beauty more then his learning, the Emperour his vncle wrote him a letter The letter of Marcus Aurelius. in Greeke, which sayd thus.
Marcus Aurelius the Romaine Emperour, first Tribune of the people, and Bishop, wisheth to thee Epesipus his Nephew and Scholler, health and doctrine.
In the third Calends of December came thy cousin Annius Verus, at whose comming all our parentage reioyced, and so much the more because that hee brought vs newes out of Grecia,
For truely when the heart hath the absence of that he loueth, it is no minute of an houre without suspition. After that thy cousen Annius Verus had spoken in generally to all, bringing newes from their friends and children, we talked together, and he gaue me a letter of thine, which is contrary to that which was written mee out of Greece, because thou writest to mee, that I should send thee mony to continue thee in studie, and they did also write vnto me from thence, that thou art more youthfull, and giuen more to the pleasures of the world, then becommeth thee.
Thou art my blood, thou art my Nephew, thou wert my Scholler, and thou shalt bee my sonne if thou art good. But God wil neuer that thou be my Nephew, nor that I shall call thee my sonne, during the time that thou shalt be yong, fond, light and frayle For no good man should haue parentage with the vitious.
I cannot deny but that I loue thee from the bottome of my stomacke, and so likewikewise thy vnthriftinesse greeueth me with all my heart. For when I read the letters of thy follies. I will content my selfe.
For the sage wise men, though (against their willes) they heare of such things past, yet it pleaseth them to redresse other things that may come heareafter.
I know well that thou canst not call it to minde, though perhaps thou hast it, that when thy vnlucky mother and my sister Annia Melena died, she was then yong enough, for she was no more but eighteene yeares of age, and thou haddest not then foure houres.
For thou wert borne in the morning, and shee dyed iust at noonetide: so when the wicked childe possessed his life. then the good mother tasted death.
I can tell thee that thou hast lost such a mother, and that I haue lost such a sister, that I beleeue there was no better in Rome.
[Page 247] For she was sage, honest, and faire, the which things are seldome seene now a dayes. For so much as thy mother was my sister, and that I had brought her vp and marryed her, I read then Rethorike at Rhodes, because my pouertie was extreame, that I had no other thing but that which by reading Rethorike I did get.
When newes came vnto me of the death of thy mother, and my sister Annia Milena, al comfort laid on side sorrow oppressed my heart in such wise, that all members trembled, the bones shiuered, my eyes without rest did lament, the heauy sighes ouercame me, at euery minute my heart vanished away, from the bottome of my heart I inwardly lamented, and bewayled thy vertuous mother and my deare sister.
Finally sorrow executing his priuiledge on mee, the ioyfull company greeued me, and onely with the louely care I quieted my selfe, I know not nor cannot expresse vnto thee how, and in what sort I tooke the death of my sister Annia Milena thy mother: for in sleeping I dreamed of her, and dreaming I saw her, when I was awake shee represented her selfe before me, remembring that she liued, I was sorry to remember her death. Life was so grieuous vnto me, that I would haue reioyced to haue beene put in the graue with her. For truly hee feeleth assuredly the death of another, which alway is sorrowfull, and lamenting his owne life.
Remembring therefore the great loue which my sister Milena bare vnto me in her life, and thinking wherein I might requite the same after her death: I imagined that I could not by any meanes doe any thing that was more acceptable for her, then to bring thee vp, thou which art her childe, and left an Orphane so yong.
For of all trauells to a woman, this is the chiefest: to leaue behinde her children to bring vp. My sister being dead, the first thing I did was, that I came to Rome, and then sent thee to Capua to be brought vp there, in the which place, hard at my nose, they gaue thee sucke two yeares.
For thou knowest right well, that the mony which by reading Rethorike I gate, scarcely satisfied for thy dayly feeding: but that in the night I reade some extraordinare lecture, and with that I payed for the milke, which thou suckedst on the dugge, so that thy bringing vp depended vpon the labour of my life.
After that thou wert weined and and brought from the teate, I sent thee to Bietro, to a friend and kinsman of mine named Lucius Valerius, with whom thou remainedst vntill fiue yeares were fully accomplished, where I found both him and thee all things necessary. For he was in great pouertie, and a great blabber of his tongue, in such sort that he troubled What offence comes by much talke. all men, and angred me much. For truely a man should as willingly giue mony to cause him to be silent, which is talkatiue: as to giue a wise man to heare him to speake.
The fiue yeares accomplished, I sent thee to Toringue, a citie of Campaignia, to a Maister which taught children there, called Emilius Torquates, of whom, to the end hee should teach thee to reade and to write three yeares: I tooke a sonne of his, whom hee gaue mee to reade to him Greeke foure yeares, so that thou couldest not haue any profite in thee, without the increase of great trauell, and augmenting paine to my heart.
And after thou wert seuen yeares old, that thou couldest reade and write wel, I sent thee to study, in the famous city of Tareth where I kept thee [Page 148] foure yeares paying to the masters a great summe of money: Because now a dayes through our euill fortunes, there is none that will teach without great stipend. Without lamenting I doe not tell thee, that in the time that Cincinos (which were after the death of Quintus Cincinatus, vntill Cyna and Catulus) the phylosopher and maisters were by the sacred Senate payde, and none ceased to study for lacke of money.
For in those dayes they which would apply themselues to vertue and sciences, were by the common treasure maintained. As our fathers were Learning well regarin ancient times. well ordered in their things: so they did not deuide offices by order onely but also by order they payed their money in such sort that they paide first with the common treasure, the priests of the Temples, Secondly, the maisters of schooles and studies. Thirdly, the poore widowes and Orphanes. Fourthly, the strange knights, which of their owne free wills voluntarily were made citizens of Rome. Fiftly, all the old souldiesr, which had serued 35. yeares continually in the warres. For those which were retired home to their owne houses, were honourably found of the commonwealth,
The twelue yeares past I my selfe was in Tarenthe, and carryed thee to Rome, where I read vnto thee Rhetorike, Logike and phylosophy, and also the Mathematicall sciences, keeping thee in my house, in my company, at my table, and in my bed, and further more I had the in my heart, and in my minde. The which thing thou shouldest esteeme more, then if I gaue thee my house and al my goods. For the true benefites is that onely which is done without any respect of profite or interest,
I kept thee with meanes in this sort in Laurence, in Rhodes, in Naples, and in Capua, vntill such time as the gods created me Emperor of Rome. And then I determined to send thee to Greece, because thou shouldest learne the Greeke tongue, and also to the end thou shouldest accustome thy selfe to worke that which true phylosophy requireth. For the true and vertuous phylosophers ought to conforme their workes to that they say, and publish their words with their deeds.
There is nothing more infamous then to presume to be sage, and to be desirous to be counted vertuous: principally for him that speaketh much, and worketh little. For the man of a pleasant tongue, and euill life, is hee which with impostumes vndoeth the commonwealth. When I sent thee to An euill man a wicked member in a commonwealth. Greece, and withdrew thee from Rome, it was not to exile thee out of my company, so that thou hauing tasted of my pouertie; shouldest not reioyce at my prosperitie: but it was that considering thy youthfull disposition and lightnesse, I was afrayde to vndoe thee in the pallace, chiefely least thou wouldest haue presumed to haue bin too bold and familiar, because thou wert my nephew. For truely Princes which take pleasure that their children be familiar with them, they giue occasion that men shall not count them wise, and cause also the young men to bee esteemed for light, I haue tolde thee that I did for thee in Italie.
I will now let thee know what thou hast done, and doest in Greece, so that I will shew thee to bee notorious, that is to know that thou taking and esteeming thy selfe to bee well disposed in thy youth, thou hast forsaken thy study, and despised my counsayles, thou art accompanyed with vaine and light men, and hast most viciously employed the money which [Page 149] I had sent thee to buy books. All the which things to thee being hurtfull, are to me no lesse dishonor & shame.
For it is a generall rule, when the childe is foolish and ill taught, and How children should be brought the blame and fault is layd on the masters necke, who hath taught him, and brought him vp. It greeueth me not for that he brought thee vp, neither for that I haue taught thee to reade, and cause thee to study, neither likewise to haue kept thee in my house, to haue set thee at my table, nor also to haue suffered thee to lie with me in my bed, neither it greeueth mee to haue consumed so much on thee: but with all my heart it greeueth me, that thou hast not giuen me occasion to do thee good. For there is nothing that greeueth a noble Prince more, then not to find persons able of capacity, to do them any good. They tell me that thou art well made of thy body, and faire in countenance, and that thou presumest also in those things: wherefore to enioy the pleasures of thy person, thou hast forsaken Phylosophy, wherewith I am not contentented. For in the end the corporall beautie, carely or sate, perisheth in the graue: but vertue & science, makes men to be of immortall memory. The gods neuer commanded it, neither the studies and vniuersities of Italy suffered it, to haue the body fine and trimme, the visage faire and cleare, and the heart full of Phylosophy: for the true Phylosopher, of all other things esteemeth least the setting forth of the body. For that the demonstrations and tokens of a true & perfect phylosopher is to haue his eres troubled, his eye bries burnt, and the head bald, the ball of his eyes sunke into his head, the face yellow, the body leane and feeble, the flesh dry, the so [...]te vnhosed, the garment poore, the eating little, and the watching great. Finally he ought to liue as a Lacedemonian, and speake as a Grecian. The tokens of a valiant & renowmed captain, are his wounds and hurts, and the signe of a studious phylosopher, is the despising of the world. For the wise man ought to thinke himselfe as much dishonored, if they call him stout, and sturdie: as a captaine when they call him a coward and negligent. I like well that the phylosopher study the ancient antiquities of his forefathers, that wrote the profound things for the time to come, that hee teach profitable & wholesome doctrines to those which are now aliue, that he diligently enquire of the motion of the starres, that he consider what causeth the alteration of the elements. But I sweare vnto thee Epesipus, that neuer sage of Rome came to those things, nor phylosopher of Greece likewise, but in searching the quietnesse of the soule, & despising the pleasures of the body: Touching the body I am like to beasts, but concerning the spirit I am partly like to the gods, sith that following the things of the flesh I am made lesse then my self, and in following the motions of the spirit, I am made more then I am. For truly sensualitie maketh vs inferiour to beasts, and reason maketh vs superiour vnto men. The worldly malice & presumption naturally desireth, rather to mount then to descend: and to command, rather then to be commanded. And since it is so, why do we by vices abase our selues to do lesse then beasts being possible for vs by vertues to do more then men. Amongst all the members, which men can haue, there is nothing more tender to breake, nor any thing more easy to corrupt, then is the handsomnes of the body, where we are so proud. For in mine opinion, to esteeme himselfe to be a handsome and proper person, is no other thing, but to esteeme our selues that dreaming we shal be rich and mighty, and [Page 134] afterwards awaking we find our selues to be poore and miserable. And me thinkes th [...]s thing to be true, because I will declare, what it is to see a yong The description of a yong man. man in his first age. the head litle, the haire yeallow, the brow long, the eyes green, the cheeks whit, the nose sharp the lips coloured, the beard forked, the face liuely, the necke small, the body of good proportion, the arme little, the fingers long, and to conclude, so well proportioned in his members, that mens eyes should alwayes desire to behold him, and the hearts alwayes seeke to loue him.
If this yong man so faire and well proportioned, remained long time in his beautie and disposition, it were good to desire it, to procure it, to keepe it, to pay s [...] it, and to loue it well: for in the end if we loue the beautie in beasts and buildings, by greater reason wee should desire it in our selues. But what shall wee say, that when we do not watch, this litle floure which yesterday florished on the tree, faire and whole, without suspition to be lost, one little hoary frost sodainly wasteth and consumeth it, the vehement wind ouerthrows it, the knife of enuy cutteth it, the water of aduersitie vndoeth it, and the heate of persecutions pineth it: and finally the worme of short life gnaweth it, and the putrifaction of death decayeth and bringeth it down to the ground. O mans life that art alwayes cursed, I count fortune cruell, and thee vnhappy, since she will that thou tarriest on her, which dreaming giueth thee pleasures, and waking worketh the displeasures: which giueth into thy hands trauell to tast, and suffereth thee not onely to listen after quier: which will thou proue aduersitie, and agree that thou haue prosperitie but at her will: finally she giueth ther life by ounces, and death without measure.
The wicked and vitious say, that it is a great pleasure to liue in ease: but I protest vnto them, that there was neuer any mortall man had so much pleasure in vices, but that he remained in great paine after that they were banished from him.
For the heart, which of long time The of the wicked. hath bene rooted in vice, incontinently is subiect to some great alteration, I would all would open their eyes to see how wee liue deceiued: for all the pleasures which delight the body, make vs beleeue that they come to abide with vs continually, but they vanish away with sorrows immediatly. And on the contrary part the infirmities and sorrowes that blind the soule say, that they come onely to lodge as guests, and ramaine with vs continually as housholders.
I maruell of thee Epesipus, why thou doest not consider what shall becom of the beauty of thy body hereafter, sith thou leest presently the beauty of those departed interred in the graue? By the diuersitie of fruits man doth know the diuersitie of trees in the Orchyard, that is to say, the Oake by the Acornes, the Date tree by the Dates, and the Vines by the Grapes: but when the roote is dry, the body cut, the fruit gathered, the leafe fallen and when the tree is layd on fire and become ashes, I would now know if this ashes could bee knowne of what tree it was, or how a man might know the difference of the one frō the other? By this cōparison I meane to say that for so much as the life of this death & the death of this life commeth to seeke vs out, wee are all as trees in the Orchard, whereby some are knowne by the rootes of their predecessors, others by the leaues of their wordes, others by the branches of their friendes, some in the flowers of their beauty, and other some by the barke of their foule skinne. The one [Page 151] in their mercifulnesse, the other in their stoutenesse, other in their hardinesse beeing aged, others in their hastinesse of their youth, others in their barrennesse by theyr pouerty, others by their fruitfulnesse in riches. Finally, in one onely thing wee are all alike, that is to say, that all vniuersally goe to the graue, not one remayning.
I aske now when death hath done his office, executing all earthly men The office of death. in the later dayes: what difference is there then betweene the fayre and the foule, which lye both in the narrow graue? certainely, there is none, and if there bee any difference, it shall bee in the making of their graues, which vaine men inuented. And I doe not repent mee for calling them vayne, since there is no vanity nor fondnes comparable to this, for they are, not contented to bee vaine in their liues but will also after their drathes enterprise their vanities in sumptuous and stately sepulchres.
The coale of the Cedar (in mine opinion) that is high and fayre, is nothing more whether when it is burnt, then the coale of the oake which is little and crooked: I meane oftentimes the Gods doe permit, that the bones of a poore Philosopher are more honoured then the bones of Princes.
With death I wil threaten thee no longer, for sith thou art giuen to the vices of this life, thou wouldest not as yet that with a word it should destroy thee: but I will tell thee on [...] word more, though it grieue thee to heare it: which is that God created thee to die, women bare thee to dye, and thou camest into the world for to die: and to conclude I say, some are borne to day, on condition they dye, tomorrow [...]d giue their places to others.
When the great and fearefull Trees beginne to budde by the rootes, it signifieth that time draweth on for them to cut the drie & withered branches. meane that to see hildren borne in Ihe House is no other, but to cite the Grand-fathers and Fathers to the graue.
If a man would aske me what death is? I would say a miserable lake wherein all worldly men are taken: for those that most safely thinke to passe it ouer, remaine therein most subtilly deceyned. I haue alwayes read of the What death is. Ancients past, and haue seene of the young men present, and I suppose, that the selfe same will bee to come hereafter: that when life most sweetest seemeth to any man, then suddenly, death entereth in at their dores.
O immortall Gods, I cannot tell if I may call you cruell, I know not if I may call you mercifull, because you gaue vs flesh, bones, honour, goods, friends, and also you giue vs pleasure; finally yee giue to men all that they want, saue onely, the cuppe of life, which to your selues you did reserue. Since I may not that I would, I will that I may: but if it were referred The miserable estate of man. to my will, I would rather one onely day of life, then all the riches of Rome: for what auayleth it to toyle and take paines to encrease honour and worldly good, since life dayly diminisheth.
Returning therefore to my first purpose, thou must know that thou esteemest thy selfe, and glorifiest in thy personage and beauty: I would gladly know of thee, and of others, which are young and faire, if you doe not remēber that once yee must come to bee olde and rotten: for if you thinke you shall liue but a little, then reason would you should not esteem your hea [...]ties much: for by reason it as a straunge thing that lise should abate vs, and folly traine vs.
[Page 152] If you thinke to become aged, yee ought to remember, and alwayes to thinke, that the steele of the knife, which doth much seruice, at length decayeth, and is lost for lacke of looking to.
Truely the young man is but a new knife, the which in processe of time cankereth in the edge: For on one day hee breaketh the poynt of vnderstanding, another, he looseth the edge of cutting, and to morrow the rust of diseases taketh him, and afterwards by aduersitie he is writhen, and by infirmities hee is diseased, by riches hee is whetted, by pouertie hee is dulled againe: and finally, oftentimes it chanceth that the more sharpe he is whetted, so much the more the life is put in hazard.
It is a true thing, that the feete and hands are necessarie to climbe to the vanities of youth: and that afterwards stumbling a little, immediately rowling the head downewards, wee discend into the misery of age: For (to our seeming) yesterday wee knew one that was young and beautifull, and within short time after, wee heare that he is dead and rotten.
When I consider many men as well friends as enemies, which were (not long agoe) flourishing in beauty and youth' and presently I see them to bee old and drie, sicke and foule, truely I thinke that as then I dreamed of them, or that they be not now as they were then.
What thing is more fearefull, or more credible, then to see a man become miserable in short space, that the fashion of his visage should change, the beauty of the face should bee lost, the beard waxe white, the head bould, the cheekes and forehead full of wrinckles, the teeth (as white as Iuorie) become blacke, the light feete by the goute to seeme crepeled, and and afterward waxeth heauy, the palsey weakenneth the strong arme, the fine smoth throat with wrinckles is playted, & the body that was straight and vpright, waxeth weake and crooked.
Aboue all that I haue spoken, I say to thee Epesipus, which presumest to bee fayre, that hee which through his propernesse in youth was the mirrour of all, becommeth to bee such a one, that he doubteth whether he be the selfe same now in his age (that he was in his youth, Doe what thou wilt, praise and glorifie thy beautie as much as thou thinkest good, yet in the end the beauty of men is none other: but as a vayle to couer their eyes, a payre of fetters for the feete, manacles for the hands, a lime rodde for the winges, a theefe of time, an occasion of daunger, a prouoker of trouble, a place of lecherie, a sinke of all euill, and finally, it is an inuentor of debates, and a scourge of the affectioned man.
Since thou hast forsaken thy study, I am not bound to send thee any thing, chiefly wasting thy money in childish and youthfull to yes: but not withanding all those things, I sende thee by Aulus Vegenus two thousand crownes for thy apparrell, and truelle thou shalt be very vnthankfull, if thou doest not know the benefite done vnto thee: for a man ought to giue more thanks for that which is done of curtesie, then for that which is offered of necessitie,
I cannot tell what to let thee vnderstand in these partes, but that thy sister Anania Salaria is married, who sayth shee is content. I pray God it bee so, for with money men may bee holpen to marriages, but it lyeth in the gods to content the parties. If thou wilt know of Torings thy cofin, thou shalt vnderstand shee is embarked in the fleet which went to Spaine, & indeed I neuer thought otherwise [Page 153] wise on her, after shee had been three dayes hidde in the way of Salaria: For maydes that will betimes gather their grapes, it is a token that they will go on warfare with Souldiers.
Of Annius Rufus thy friend and companion, I certifie thee that hee is gone into the Isle of Helespont, and hee goeth by the authority of the Senate, to vnderstand the gouernement thereof: and albeit he bee young, yet he is wise, and therefore I suppose he will render a good account of his commission: for of these two extremities the aged that doe decline, or the young that are wise: I had rather holde my selfe to the wisedome of the young, then to the white beardes of the aged.
My wife Faustine saluteth thee, and be thou assured that in thy affayres (at the least in my seeming) shee is very fauourable vnto thee, and dayly shee instantly requireth mee not to bee angry with thee saying, that Sage men ought not to esteeme the lightnes of youth, and that there is no olde man that is sage, but he which in all things was light and youthfull. I say no more to thee in this case, but if thou wilt be good, I cannot deny that thou art not my Nephew my old Scholler and seruant: for if in thee I see amendment, I will withdraw mine ire, For truly among the louing hearts there is nothing that plucketh vp the euill will vnlesse it be the good life. At the request of my wife Faustine I haue written thee this word, and I say no more but of her part and mine thou commend vs to all the Vniuersity. The Gods haue thee in their custodie, to whom it may please to giue thee amendment of life. Marcus Aurelius the Romane Emperour, to thee Annius Epesius writeth with his owne hand.
CHAP. XLIII. How Princes and great Lords in olde time were louers of wise men.
ONe of the chiefest things that wan reputation and eternall memory to the The counsell of wise men euer respected among the Ancients. ancient Princes and Gouernours, was that they sought wise men to bee alwayes conuersant about them, whose graue counsell their Realmes alwayes obserued and obeyed. It profiteth a King little to leade with him a great number of Sages to gouerne him and his Realme: if his Subiectes are armed: with malice not to obey him. Let Princes know, which esteeme not the counsell of Sages, that their commaundement of other shall not bee regarded: for the Law which by will is made, and not of right ordayned, deserueth not to be obeyed.
Wee which turne and tosse the leaues of the auncient Histories cannot deny, but that the Romaines naturally were proud. Yet wee must confesse, that as they haue beene stout in things touching warres; so they haue shewed themselues temperate, in the affayres of the publike weale. And truly herein Rome declared her wisdome, and might, for as by hardy and stout Captaines the enemies were destroyed in warre: so by Sage and Wise men the common wealth was gouerned and maintained in peace.
Oft times with my selfe I muse, whereupon all these discords grew betweene Lords and subiects Princes and vassels, and my count beeing [Page 154] made, I finde that they haue both reason: for the subiects complaine of the little loue of their Lord: and the Lords complaine of the great disobedience of their subiects: for to say the truth, disobedience is so much augmented, & the desire of commandement is become so licentious, that it seemeth to the Subiects, that the weight of a feather is leade: and on the contrary, it seemeth to Princes, that for the flying of a flie, they shuld draw their swords.
All this euill and damage commeth not, but because that Princes haue not with them wise men which may counsell them: for there was neuer any good Prince that credited euill counsell.
There are two things in Princes and Prelates which gouern the soule: the one is the dignity of the office, and the other is the nature of the person. What is required of euery Magistrate. It may well be that one may bee good in his person, and euill in his gouernment: and the contrary, hee may bee euill of his person, and good in gouernment. And therefore Tullius Cicero saith, that there neuer was, nor shall be, such a Iulius Caesar in his person, nor so euill a Gouernour as hee was for the Common-wealth. It is a great grace in a man to be good; but it is much more that hee bee a good Prince. And for the contrary, it is a great euill for a man to be euill; but it is much worse for him to be an euill Prince. For the euill man is onely euill to himselfe, but the euill Prince endamageth all others: for the more the poyson is scattered through the bodie, in so much more danger he is of his life. I meane, the more power a man hath ouer the Common-wealth: so much the more euill and dammage hee doth if his life bee euill, I maruel why Princes & great Lords should bee so curious to search the best medicines to cure their bodies: and that they are so slacke and slow in seeking sage persons to gouerne their Common wealth. For without comparison, it is greater damage that the Common wealth bee euill gouerned, then if the Prince and Gouernour thereof should be sicke in his person. Hetherto wee haue neither read nor seene that any Prince hath perished for lacke of physicke, but for lacke of Counsellours: Wee haue seene and reade of infinite Kings and Realmes that haue beene destroyed, and vtterly vndone.
The lacke of a Physitian may cause danger in mans person: but the lacke What hurt commeth by euill Counsellors of a wise man may set discord among the people: for where there is any tumult amongst the people, a ripe counsell of a [...] Wise man profiteth more, then a hundred purgations of rubarbe.
Isidorus in the fourth book of his Etimologies affirmeth, that the Romans were foure hundred yeares without Physitions: For Esculapius the sonne of Apollo was the last Physition in Greece. And in the Temple of the same Esculapius, they set by the Image of Archabuto, a man very notable in Surgery: For the Romanes were so beneficiall to vertuous persons, that to euery one that exceeded other in any kind of vertue, they rewarded him with money, they set vp a Statue of him for memory, or else they made him free in the common wealth. And then when the Surgian Archabuto was become auncient and very rich, and when by occasion of great and daungerous wounds hee did cut off the armes and legges of certaine Romans, thought him a cruell and an vnnaturall man: Wherefore they droue him out of his house, and killed him with stones in the field of Mars.
And let no man man maruell therat, for oftentimes mē suffer lesse harm in enduring the paine, then to tarry [Page 155] for the cruell remedies the Surgians apply vnto it.
Some will say, that when Rome was without Surgeans, the Romanes were discomfited and halfe lost. To this I will answere, that they neuer had a more prosperous time, then in the foure hundred yeares when they were without Surgeans: for then was Rome vndone, when they receyued Surgeans, for at that time they droue Philosophers out of Rome. I doe not speake this as a preiudice to any Surgean: for mee thinketh that Princes cannot be without som among them: For as the flesh is seeble and delicate, so dayly needeth it remedies to comfort it. The sage Surgeons giueth vs none but good and healthfull counsels: for they doe not perswade vs to any other thing, but that wee bee sober and continent in eating, drinking, sleeping, trauelling, and working, and that in all things we should be temperate.
The end why I speake these things is, to perswade princes, prelates, and great Lords, that the great diligence they haue to seeke Surgeans, and the summe of mony they waste to maintaine and content them, they should spend part of that to seeke wise men to counsell their persons: for if men knew what it were to keepe a wise What benefite proceedeth frō good Councellors man, to commaund in their house, they would giue for one onely wise man all their goods: yee ought for to haue pitty and compassion vpon those princes and great Lords, which lose so many dayes in the moneth, and so many houres in the day, in speaking of warres, buildings, weapons, meats, beasts, of huntings and medicines, & oftentimes of other mens doings, and of other vain things, not necessary for mans life. And this communication they vse with those that are neither vertuous nor wise: the which can neyther wisely talke, nor yet answere directly vnto that which is asked. Oftentimes it chanceth that a prince at randon moueth a matter, which they neuer saw written before, nor with their eares they neuer heard the like, neyther in all their life time they had knowledge thereof, and yet they wil seeme to giue iudgement of it (or better to say) obstinately to contend, as if all the dayes of their life they had studied it: which thing proceedeth of great shame, and euill bringing vp: For the priuie Councell may speake before their princes, but be they neuer so priuie, with licence or without licence it is not lawfull for them to contend. Helius Spartianus in the life of Alexander Seuerus sayeth, that the Emperour Seuerus was demaunded onceby an Ambassadour of Greece, What thing was most painefull to him in Rome? whereunto the Emperour answered, There is nothing grieueth mee more, then when I am merry, that my seruants should raise any strife or debate: I am not displeased that matters should be debated, but this grieueth mee, when one will obstinatly striue, that hath no ground of that hee speaketh, hee cannot otherwise but be called obstinate.
Theodosius the Emperour was once demanded What a Prince ought to doe to be good? wherunto he answered, The vertuous Prince when he goeth abroade, ought to haue graue and wise men in his company to discourse withall, when he is at his meat, to haue wise men at his board disputing, and when he withdraweth him selfe a part to be reading with wise men: and finally at all vacant times he ought to bee found with sage men counselling: for the Knight which entreth into battell without weapōs, is as hardy as the prince which will gouerne the common wealth without the counsell of wise men.
Lampridius in the booke of the Roman gests sayth, that the Emperor Marcus Aurelius neyther at his meat, at his going to bedde, at his vprising, [Page 154] in his trauell openly, nor secretly, suffered at any time that fooles should sing or communicate with him, but onely wise and vertuous men, whom alwayes he most entirely loued.
Of truth hee had reason, for there is nothing, be it in iest or in earnest, but it is better liked of a wise man thē of a foole, If a Prince bee sad, cannot a wise man peraduentur by the saying of the holy Scripture counsell him better, then a foole by foolish words? If a Prince be prosperous, shall it not bee better (to keepe him in the same property) to associate himselfe with a wise man, rather then to put his trust in a foole and malitious person? If a Prince be destitute of money, cannot perchance a wise man finde him better meanes to get it, then a foole which doth nothing but aske? If a Prince will passe the time away, shall not hee bee more comforted with a wise man that reckoneth vnto him the sauoury histories done in times past, then hearkning a foole speake foolishly, and declaring things dishonestly, with the sayings of the malitious of the time present? That that I speake of Surgians, the selfe same I speake of fooles: For I doe not say that they keepe them for their pastime, though truely wee might better say to lose their time, then to passe their time: for that may iustly bee called time lost, which is spent without Time best spent in the seruice of God. the seruice of God, and profit of their neighbours.
That which I most maruell at is, not so much for the great authoritie that fooles haue in the Pallaces of Princes and great Lords, as for the little succour and credite which wise men haue among them: For it is a great iniurie that fooles should enter into the pallace of princes, euen vnto their beds side, and that one wise man may not, nor dare not enter into the hall: So that to the one there is no dore shut, and to the other, there is no gate open.
Wee which are at this present, of right doe commend those that were before vs, for no other cause, but that in times past, though the Sages were few in number, and the world was replenished with barbarous people: yet the Sages of those barbarous people were greatly esteemed, and had in reuerence.
And this custome endured long time in Greece, that when a Philosopher passed by a Greeke, hee rose and spake vnto him: and hee might not sit: for the contrary, all those which shall liue hereafter will reprooue vs, which are at this present. Forasmuch as wee haue so great a multitude of Sages, and do not liue amongst barbarous, but amongst Christians: and it is a griefe to see, and shame to write how little wise men are esteemed: for at this day (through our offences) not those which haue most science: but those which haue most riches, in the common wealth do commaund: I know not whether the diuine wisedome hath depriued them, or that the worldly malice hath lost the taste of them. For now a dayes there is no sage that liueth al alone to be wise, but it is necessary for him to trauell how to gaine his liuing: for necessity enforceth him to violate the rules of true Philosophy.
O world, world, I know not how to escape thy hands, nor how the simple man and ideot defendeth himselfe How little wisedome now a dayes is regarded. out of thy snares, when the Sage and wise men (yea with al their wisedom) can scarsely set their foot sure on the ground. For all that Wise men of this World know, is little enough to defend them from the malitious.
Reading that which I read of time past, and seeing that which I see of time present: I am in doubt which was greater, the care that vertuous [Page 157] Princes had in seeking out Sages to counsell them, or the great couetousnesse that others haue at this present, to discouer mines and treasures.
Speaking therefore in this matter, as I thinke: I desire that those which haue the charge of gouernment [...] (whether hee bee Prince, Prelate, or priuate person I passe not) that they once may haue about them sage men, that bee wise in deede, and that they would loue them aboue all the treasure they had heaped. For in the end, of good counsell there commeth profite: and much treasure, is a token of great danger.
In the olde time when vertuous Princes dyed, and that they left their children for Successors in their Realmes, and besides that, forasmuch as they saw their children young, and euill instructed in the affayres of their Realmes, they committed them to Tutours, that should teach them good works and doctrine, rather then they would giue them Suruayors, which should encrease and augment their Cofers and Rents: For truely if the Common-wealth bee defended with great treasures, it is not gouerned with good counsels.
The princes which are young, accustomely are giuen to vices: for in the one part youth raigneth, and on the other part honesty wanteth.
And to such, truely vices are very dangerous, specially if they want Sages to counsel them, to keepe them Youth subiect to many vices. from euill company. For the couragious youth will not bee brideled, nor their greate liberty can bee chastised.
Princes without doubt haue more neede of wise and stayed men about them, to profite them in theyr counselles, then any of all their other Subiects: for since they are in the view of all, they haue lesse licence to commit vice then any of all: For if you behold all, and that they haue authority to iudge all, will they, nill they, they are beholden and iudged of all.
Princes ought to be circumspect whom they trust with the gouernement of their Realmes, and to whom they commit the leading of their Armies, whom they send as Ambassadours into strange Countries, and whom they trust to receyue and keepe their treasures: but much more they ought to bee circumspect in examining of those whom they choose to bee their Counsellours: For looke what is he that counselleth the prince How circumspect Princes ought to be at home in his pallace: so likewise shall his renowne be in strange countries, and in his owne Common-wealth.
Why should they not then willingly examine and correct theyr owne proper palace? Let Princes know, if they do not know, that of the honesty of their seruants, of the prouidence of their Counsels, of the sagenesse of their persons, and of the order of their house, dependeth the welfare of the Common-wealth: for it is impossible that the branches of that tree, whose rootes are dryed vp, should bee seene to beare greene leaues.
CHAP. XLIIII. How the Emperour Theodosius prouided [...]ise men at the houre of his death, for the edification of his two sonnes, Archadius and Honorius.
I Gnatius the Historian in the booke that he made of the two Theodosij, of the 2. Archadij, and of the 4. Honorii, declareth [...] Theodosius. that the first & great Theodosius being [...]0. yeares olde, and hauing gouerned the empire 11. years lying on his death bed, called Archadius and Honorius his two sons, and committed them to Estilconius, and Ruff [...]nus to be instructed, and ordayned them likewise for gouernours of their estates and signiories. Before that the father dyed, hee had now created his children Caesars, being then of the age of 17. yeares. Therefore the Father seeing them not as yet ripe, nor able to gouerne their Realms and Signiories: he committed them vnto masters and tutors. It is not alwayes a generall rule, though one be of 25. yeares of age, that he hath more discretion to gouerne realms then another of fifteene: for dayly wee see, that wee allow and commend the ten yeeres of one, and reproue the forty yeares of an other.
There are many Princes tender of yeares, but ripe in counsels: and for the contrary there are other Princes olde in yeares, and young in counsels. When the good Emperour Vespatian dyed, they determined to put his sonne Titus in the gouernement of the Empire, or some other aged Senatour, because they sayde Titus was too young,
And as they were in controuersie of the matter, the Senator Rogerus Patroclus said vnto the Senate: For my part I require rather a Prince which is young and sage: then I do a Prince which is olde and foolish.
Therefore now as touching the children of Theodosius, one day Estiltorius the tutor of Archadius speaking to a Greeke Philosopher, very sage, whose name was Epimundus, sayd thus vnto him.
Thou and I long time haue beene acquainted together in the Palace of the Emperour Theodose my Lord, who is dead, and we are aliue: thou knowest it had been better that we two had dyed, and that he had liued: for there bee many to bee seruants of Princes, but there are few to be good Princes I feele no greater griefe in this world, then to know many Princes in one Realme. For the man which hath seene many Princes in his life, hath seene many nouelties and alterations in the common wealth. Thou knowest well that when Theodosius my master dyed, hee spake to mee these words, the which were not spoken without great sighes and multiplying of teares. O Estilconus, I dye, and am going into an other world, wherin I shall giue a streight account of the Realmes and Seignories which I had vnder my charge: and therefore The duety of euery good Christian. when I thinke of mine offences I am maruellously afrayde: But when I remember the mercy of God, then I receyue some comfort and hope.
As it is but meet wee should trust in the greatnesse of his mercy: so likewise is it reason wee should feare the rigour of his iustice. For truely, in the christian law they are not suffered to liue (as we which are Princes that liue in delights of this world, & without repentance to goe to Paradise: Then when I thinke of the great [Page 139] benefites which I haue receyued of God, and of the great offences which I haue committed, and when I thinke of the long time I haue liued, and of the little which I haue profited, and also that vnprofitably I haue spent my time: On the one part I am loath to dye, for that I am afrayde to come before the tribunall seate of Iesus Christ: and on the other part I would liue no longer, because I doe not profite.
The man of an euill life, why doth hee desire to liue any longer? My life is now finished, and the time is short to make amends. And sith God demaundeth nought else but a contrite heart, with all my heart I doe repent, and appeale to his iustice, of mercy, from his iustice to his mercy, because it may please him to receyue mee into his house, and to giue mee perpetuall glory, to the confusion of all my finnes and offences. And I protest I dye in the holy catholike faith, and commend my soule to God and my body to the earth: and to you, Estilconus and Ruffinus my faithfull seruants, I recommend my deere beloued children: for hereby the lone of the children is seene, in that the Father forgetteth them not at the houre of his death.
In this case of one onely thing I doe warne you, one onely thing [...] require The loue of a master to his seruants you, one thing I desire you, and one onely thing I command you, and that is, that you occupie not your minds in augmenting the realms and seignories of my children: but onely that you haue due respect to giue thē good education and vertuous seruāts: for it was onely the wise men which I had about me, that thus long haue maintained mee in this great authority. It is a goodly thing for a Prince to haue stout captains for the warres: but without comparison it is better to keepe and haue wise men in his palace: for in the end, the victory of the battel confisteth in the force of many: but the gouernment of the commonwelth oftentimes is put vnder the aduise of one alone.
These so dolefull and pittifull words my Lord and Master Theodosius spake vnto me. Now tell mee, Epimundus, what I shall doe at this present to fulfill his commendement? For at his heart hee had nothing that troubled him so much as to thinke whether his children would vndoe, or encrease the Common wealth. Thou Epimundus, thou art a Grecian, thou art a Philosopher, thou hast vnderstanding, thou art an old seruant, thou art my faithfull friend: therefore for all these things thou art bound to giue mee good and healthfull counsell: For many times I haue heard Theodosius my master say, That he is not accounted sage which hath turned the leaues of many bookes: but hee which knoweth, and can giue good and healthfull counsell: Epimundus the philosopher answered to these words; Thou knowest well, Lord Estilconus, that the ancients and great Philosophers ought to be briefe in words, and very perfect in their works: for otherwise to speake much, and worke little, seemeth rather to bee done like a tyrant, then like a Greeke Philosopher. The Emperour Theodosius was thy Lord, and my friend. I say friend, because it is the liberty of a Greeke Philosopher, to acknowledge no homage nor seruice to a superiour: for hee in his heart can haue no true licence: that to rebuke the vitious keepeth his mouth shut. In one thing I content my selfe in Theodosius aboue all other Princes, which were in the Romane Empire, and that is, that he knew and talked wisely of al his affairs, and also was diligēt to execute the same: for all The fault of many Princes. the fault of princes is, that they are apt & bold to talk of vertues, & in executing [Page 160] them, they are very slacke and fearfull. For such Princes cannot continue in the vertue, which they doe commend: not yet resist the vice which they doe disprayse.
I graunt that Theodosius was an executor of iustice, mercifull, stout, sober valiant, true, louing, thankfull, and vertuous: and finally, in all thinges, and at all times he was fortunate: for Fortune oftentimes bringeth that to princes, which they will and desire: yea many times better then they look for. Presupose it be true (as it is most true) that the time was alwayes prosperous to the Emperour Theodosius: yet I doubt whether this prosperity will continue in the succession of his children For worldly prosperity is so mutable, that with one onely man in a moment, shee maketh a thousand shrewde turnes: and so much the The inconstancy of the world. more it is hard to continue stedfast in the second houre.
Of slow and dull horses, come oftentimes couragious and fierce colts: and euen so of vertuousfathers come children euill brought vp: For the wicked children inherite the worst of the Father, which is riches, and are dishenherited of the best, which are vertues. That which I perceyne in this matter, as wel of the father which is dead, as of the children which are aliue, is that Theodose was vertuous in deede, and the children are capable to follow both good and euill, and therfore it is requisite that you now go about it: for the Prince which is yong is in great perill, when in his youth he beginneth not to follow the steps of vertue.
To speake particularly of Archadius & Honorious, I let thee know Estilconus, that it is a thing superfluous to talk of it; for I should lose my time, because the things of princes are very delicate, and though wee haue licence to prayse their vertues, yet wee are bound to dissemble their faults.
As a sage father, Theodose, I desire thee to giue his children good doctrine, and alwayes to accompany thē: But I as a friend do counsell thee that thou keepe them from euill: for in the end all is euill to accompany with the euill, and forsake the good: but the worst euill pursueth vs, rather by the presence of the euill, then by the absence of the good. It may wel be that one being alone, & without the company of the good, may yet notwithstā ding be good: but for one that is accompanied with euil men, to be good of this I greatly doubt: for the same day that a man accompanieth himselfe with the vicious, the selfe same day he is bound to be subiect to vice. O Estilconus, since thou so much desirest to accomplish the commādemēt of thy Lord and master Theodose, if thou canst not cause that Archadius & Honorius (which are yong princes) do accompany with the good: yet at the least withdraw them from the company of the euill: for in the courts of princes vitious men are none other but solicitors in this world to tempt others to be vicious: how many and what solicitors haue we seen, thou and I in Rome, the which forgetting the affaires of their Lords, did solicite for themselues vices and pleasures. I will not tell what seruants of princes haue The younger sort must accompany with the vertuous. bin in times past, but what they were, and what they are, euery man may easily see. I will tell thee onely, not of those which ought to be coūsellors to princes: but also of those which ought not to liue in their courts: For the counsellors and officers of princes ought to be so iust: that sheares cannot find what to cut away intheir liues nor that there needeth any needle or thred to amend their fame. If thou Estilconus hast heard what I haue sayd, marke now what I wil say, and keepe it in memory, for it may profit thee one day.
[Page 161] In the Courts of Princes proude men ought to haue no familiarity nor entertainement. For it is vnseemely that those which are not gentle in Proud and ambitious men ought not to gouerne. words should commaund: and those that haue not their hearts ready to obey, should bee familiar with the Prince.
In the Courts of Princes, there ought not to bee of Counsell, and much lesse familiar, enuious men: for if enuy raigne amongst Princes and Counsellours there shall alwayes bee dissentions in the common-wealth. In the Courts of Princes hasty men ought not to haue familiarity: for oftentimes it chanceth that the impatience of Counsellours, causeth the people to be euill content with their Princes.
In the Courts of Princes there ought not to be familiar, nor of counsell, greedy nor couetous men, for the Princes giue great occasion to the people to bee hated, because their seruants haue alwayes their hands open to receyue bribes,
In the Courtes of Princes there ought not to be familiar fleshly men: for the vice of the flesh hath in it so little profite, that he that is wholy ouercome therewith, is, or ought to be to the Prince alway suspected.
In the Pallace of a King, there ought not to bee drunkards or gluttons: for whereas the familiars ought principally to serue their Princes with good counsel, in mine opinion a man being full & surcharged with excesse is more like to bleach and breake wind after his surfet, then able to giue any profitable counsell in the Common wealth.
In the Pallace of Princes, ought not to be resiant nor familiar blasphemers: for the man which is a servant and openly dare blaspheme his Creator, will not spare in secret to speake euill of the Lord.
In the palace of Princes ought not to be of counsell nor familiar the negligent and delicate persons: for there is nothing (next vnto the diuine prouidence) that helpeth Princes more to be puissant and mighty then when their seruants are faithfull and diligent.
In the pallace of Princes, defamed men ought not to haue familiarity: for the Prince cannot excuse himselfe to bee thought culpable, when they doe rebuke him, if in his house he maintaine seruants, which openly are defamed.
In the pallace of princes they ought not to suffer Ideots and fooles: for the realmes are not lost for that the Princes are young, vncircumspect, and vitious: but for that their Counsellours are simple and malitious.
Woe, woe be to the land, where the Lord is vitious, the subiect seditious, the seruant couetous, and the Counsellour simple and malitious: for then the common wealth perisheth when ignorance and malice raigneth in the prince and gouernour of the same,
Those words passed betweene the noble Knight Estilconus, and the wise Philosopher Epimundus, vpon the bringing vp of those two princes Archadius and Honorius, And because that princes and prelates might see, (which now haue the charge to gouerne people) how much the Auncients did desire to haue sage men about them notwithstanding that I haue spoken, I will shew you heere some notable and ancient examples.
CHAP. XLV. How Cresus King of Lydea was a great friend and louer of Sages. Of a letter the same Cresus wrote to the Philosopher Anacharsis. And of an other letter of the Philosophers answere to the King.
IN the yeare of the Creation of the World, 4355. and in the third age, Sardanapulus being king of the Assyrians, Ozias King of the Hebrewes, and Elchias being high Bishop of the holy temple, at that time when Rea the mother of Romulus liued, in the second yeare of the first Olimpiade, the great and renowmed Realme of Lydes had beginning: as Plinie in Plin lib. de nat. hist. the fift booke of the Naturall History sayth. Lidia is in Asia minor, and first was called Meonia, & afterwards was called Lidia, and now is called Morea. This Realme of Lydes had many worthy Cities, that is to say, Ephese, Colose, Aclasomena, and Phorea. The first King of Lydes was Ardisius, a man of great courage, and a Grecian borne, and raigned 36. yeares. The second, was Aliaces, who raigned 14, yeares. The third was Meleus, and he raigned 12. yeares. The fourth was Candale, and raigned 4. yeares. The fift was Ginginus, and raigned 5. yeares. The sixt was Cerdus, and raigned 6. yeares. The 7. was Sadiates, and raigned 15. yeares. The eight was Allates, and he raigned 49. yeares, and the ninth was Cresus, and raigned 15. yeares: and of this King Cresus, Zenophon declareth, that hee was more valiant in feates of warre, then comely of personage: for though he was lame of one foote, blemished of one eye, lacking one eare, and of body not much bigger then a dwarfe: yet for all this hee was a iust man, very constant, stoute, mercifull, The description of Cresus. couragious, and aboue all hee was a great enemie to the ignorant; and a speciall friend to the Sage.
Of this king Cresus, Seneca speaketh in his booke of Clemency: and sayeth, that the Sages were so entirely beloued of him, that the Greekes (which had the fountaine of eloquence) did not call him a louer, but entituled him the loue of Sages: for neuer no man did so much to attaine to the loue of his Lady, as hee did to draw to him, and to his Country sage men.
This king Cresus therefore beeing Lord of many barbarous nations (the which loued better to drinke the bloud of the innocent, then to learne the science of the wise) like an excellent prince determined for the comfort of his person, and remedy of his Common wealth, to search out the greatest Sages that were in Greece. At that time flourished the famous and renowmed Philosopher Anacharsis, who thogh he was born and brought vp amongst the Seythians, yet hee was alwayes resident notwithstanding in Athens: For the Vniuersity of Athens did not despise those that were Barbarians, but those that were vitious.
The King Cresus sent an Ambassadour in great authority with riches, to the Philosopher Anacharsis, to perswade and desire him, and with those gifts and presents to present him, to the end it might please him to come and see his person, and to set an order in his Common wealth.
Cresus not contented to send him gifts which the Ambassadour carried, The godly minde of Cresus. but for to let him vnderstand why he did so: wrote him a letter with his owne hand, as hereafter followeth.
The letter of King Cresus, to Anacharfis the Phylosopher.
CResus King of Lydes, wisheth Anacharsis great Phylosopher, which remainest in Athens, health to thy person, and increase of The letter of king Cresus. vertue. Thou shalt know how well I loue thee, in that I neuer saw thee, nor knew thee, to write vnto thee a letter. For the things which with the eyes haue neuer bin seen: seldomtimes with the heart are truely beloued. Thou doest esteeme little (as truth is) these my small gifts, and presents which I send thee: yet I pray thee greatly esteeme the will and heart wherewith. I do visite thee. For noble hearts receiue more thankefully that which a man desireth to giue them: then that which they do giue them in deede. I desire to correct this my Realme, and to see amendement in the commonwealth.
I desire good order for my person, and to take order touching the gouernement of my palace. I desire to communicate with Sages, somethings of my life, and none of these things can bee done without thy presence: for there was neuer any good thing made but by the meane of wisedome. The description of Cresus. I am lame, I am crooked, I am bald, I am a counterfeit, I am blacke, and also I am broken, finally, amongst all other men I am a monster. But all these imperfections are nothing to those that remaine, that is to say, I am so vnfortunate, that I haue not a Phylosopher with me. For in the world there is no greater shame, then not to haue a wise man about him to be conuersant with all.
I count my self to be dead, though to the simple fooles I seeme to bee a liue. And the cause of death is, because I haue not with me some wise person. For truely he is onely aliue amongst the liuing: who is accompanyed with the Sages.
I desire thee greatly to come, and by the immortall gods I coniure thee that thou make no excuse: and if thou wilt not at my desire, doe it for that thou art bound. For many men ofttimes condiscend to doe that which they would not: more for vertues sake then to satisfie the demand of any other.
Thou shalt take that which my Embassador shall giue, and beleeue that which he shall tell in my behalfe, and by this my letter I doe promise thee, that when thou shalt ariue here, I will make thee treasorer of my coffers, only counsailour of mine affaires, secretary of my counsell, father of my children, reformer of my Realme, master of my person, and Gouernour of my Commonwealth: finally, Anacharsis shall be Cresus, because Cresus may be The liberal mind of Cresus. Anacharsis. I say no more, but the gods haue thee in their custody, to whom I pray that they may hasten thy comming.
The Embassadour departed to goe to Athens, bearing with him this letter and many sewels and bagges of gold: and by chance Anacharsis was reading in the Vniuersitie at the arriuall of the Ambassadors of Athens. Who onely sayd and did his message to Anacharsis, presenting vnto him the gifts and the letter. Of which thing all those of the Vniuersitie maruelled, for the barbarous Princes were not accustomed to seek Phylosophers, to gouern their commonwealth: but to put them to death, and take from them their liues. After the great Phylosopher Anacharsis had heard the Ambassage, seene the gifts, and receiued the lerter, with out altering his countenance, or elation of his person, impediment in his tong, or desire of the riches immediatly before the phisophers, sayd these words, which hereafter are written.
The letter of the Phylosopher Anacharsis to the king Cresus.
ANacharsis the least of the Phylosophers, which to thee Cresus, most mightie and puissant king of Lides, the health which thou wishest The answer of the Philosopher Anacharsis. him, and the increase of vertue which thou sendest him. They haue told vs many things here in these parts, as well of thy Realme, as of thy person, and there in those parts they say many things, as wel of our Vniuersitie, as of my selfe. For the heart taketh great pleasure, to know the conditions and liues of all those in the world.
It is well done to desire and procure to know all the liues of the euill, to amend our owne. It is well done to procure and know the liues of the good for to follow them: but what shall we doe? since now a daies the euill doe not desire to know the liues of the euill, but for to couer them and keepe them secret, and doe not desire to know the liues of the good for to follow them.
I let thee know, king Cresus, that the Phylosophers of Greece felt not so much paine to be vertuous, as they felt in defending them from the vitious, For if a man once behold vertue, immediatly she suffereth to be taken: but the euill for any good that any man can doe vnto them, neuer suffers themselues to be vanquished. I beleeue well that tyrannie of the Realm is not so great as they talke of here, neither oughtest thou likewise to beleeue that I am so vertuous, as they report me to be here. For in mine opinion those which declare newes of strange countries, are as the poore which weare their garments al patched and peeced, wherof the peeces that were sowne on a new, are in more quantitie of cloth: then the old which before they had, when they were first made,
Beware (king Cresus) and bee not as the barbarous Princes are, which vse good words, to couer the infamy of their cruel deeds.
Maruel not though we Phylosophers, readers in schooles, desire not to liue with princes and gouernors of realms: For euil Princes for none other intent seeke the company of wise men, but onely because they would through them excuse their faults. For doing as thou doest, of will, and not of right, you will that the vulgar people thinke you do it by the counsel of a wise man. I let thee vnderstand, king Cresus, that the prince which desireth to gouerne his people well, ought not to be content to haue one onely Sage in his Pallace. For it is not meete that the gouernement of many do consist in the aduise of one alone.
The Ambassadour hath sayde by word, and the selfe same thy letter testifieth, that thou art certified that I am counted for Sage throughout all Greece, & that this presupposed, I wold come to thee to gouerne thy commonwealth.
And for the contrary, thou doing thus as thou doest, condemnest mee to be an Idiot, for thou thinking that I would take thy gold, is nothing else, but for to raile vpon me as a foole.
The chiefe point wherein true philosophy is knowne, is when he despiseth the things of the world: for there neuer agreeth together the libertie of the soule, and the care of the goods in this life,
O king Cresus, I let thee vnderstand that hee which knoweth most the Wherein consisteth true phylosophy. cause of the Element is not called Sage: but it is he which least knoweth the vices of this world. For the true phylosopher profiteth more by not knowing the euill, then by learning the good.
I let thee vnderstand I am threescore [Page 165] and seuen yeares old, and yet neuer before this time there reigned ire in me, but when thy Ambassage was presented to me, and that I saw layde at my feete such treasures and riches. For vpon this deed I gather, that either wisedome lacketh in thee, or that great couetousnes aboundeth in me.
I doe send thee thy gold againe which thou sendest me, and rhy Ambassadour shall declare (as witnesse of sight) how greatly it hath slandered all Greece. For it was neuer seene nor heard of, that in any wise they should suffer gold to enter into the Vniuersitie How little the phylosophers desire riches. of Athens. For it should not onely bee a dishonour to the Phylosophers of Greece to haue riches, but also it would turne them to great infamie to desire them.
O King Cresus, if thou knowest it not, it is but reason thou know it, that in the Schooles of Greece wee learne not to command, but to obey: not to speake, but to be silent: not to resist, but to humble our selues: not to get much, but to content vs with little: not to reuenge offences, but to pardon iniuries: not to take from others, but to giue our owne: not to be honored, but to trauaile to be vertuous: finally, we learne to despise that which other men loue: and to loue that which other men despise, which is pouertie. Thou thoughtest that I would accept thy gold, or else that I would not. If thou thoughtest I would haue taken it, then thou haddest had reason not to haue receiued me afterwards into thy Palace: for it is a great infamie, that the couetous man shuld be acceptable to a Prince. If thou thoughtst that I wold none of it, thou wert not wise to take the pains to send it: for Princes ought neuer to take vpon them things, wherein (as they thinke) that subiects should lose their honestie in receiuing them.
Seeking Cresus and behold that by diligence it litle auayleth to search for the physition, and afterwards to doe nothing of that which by him is ordained.
I meane that it shall not profit, but rather it shall be harme, that I come into thy commonwealth, and that afterwards thou wilt not do that which I shall ordaine therein, for great dangers ensue to alter the humors with siropes: vnlesse they take afterwards a purgation to purge away the same. For to redresse thy barbarous realme, and to satisfie thy good desire, I am determined to condiscend vnto thy request, and to accomplish thy commandement, vpon condition, that thou shalt ensure mee of these things following.
For the laborer ought not to sow his seede before the ground be plowed and tilled.
The first, thou shalt for sake the euill Certaine points required to be performed by the physopher. custome which ye barbarous kings dovse, that is to say, to heape vp treasures, and not to spend them. For euery Prince which is couetous of treasures, is scarcely of capacitie to receiue good counsell:
The second, thou shalt not onely banish out of thy palace: but also out of thy court al flatterers, for the Prince that is a friend to flatterers of necessitie must be an enemie of the truth.
The 3. thou shalt end the wars that thou (at this present) doest maintaine against the people of Corinth, for euery Prince that loueth forraine warres, must needs hate the peace of his commonwealth.
The fourth, thou shalt banish from thy house all Iuglers, comediants and ministrels. For the Prince which occupieth himselfe to heare vaine and trifling things, in time of necessitie shall not apply himselfe to those which bee of weight and importance.
Fiftly, thou shalt prouide that all loyterers and vacabonds bee expulsed from thy person, and banished thy palace: for iidlenesse [Page 166] and negligence are cruell enemies of wisedome.
Sixtly, thou shalt banish from thy court and palace, and liers all seditious men: for when liers are suffered in the Palace of Princes, it is a signe that the king and the realme falleth into vtter destruction.
The seuenth, thou shalt promise that in the dayes of thy life thou shalt not presse me to receiue any thing of thee: for the day that thou shalt corrupt me with gifts it is necessary that I corrupt thee with euill counsels. For there is no counsell that is good, but that which proceedeth from the man that is not couetous.
If on these conditions the king Cresus desireth the Philosopher Anacharsis, the Philosopher Anacharsis desireth the king Cresus: and if not, I had rather bee a disciple of sage philosophers, then a king of the barbarous people. Vale felix Rex. Sith this letter doeth declare it, it is needlesse for my pen to write it, that is to say, what was the humanitie and goodnesse of king Cresus, to write vnto a poore Phylosopher: and how great the courage of a philosopher was to despise the gold, and to say (as he did) in this behalfe. Therefore let princes note heare, that such ought the Sages to bee they should chuse, and let Sages note here also vpon what conditions they ought to enter into the palace of princes. For this is such a bargaine, that it seldome times chanceth, but that one of the parties are deceiued.
CHAP XLVI. Of the wisedome and sentences of Phalaris the tyrant, and how he put an Artisan to death for inuenting new torments.
IN the last yeare of the Latines, and in the first yeare of the Romaines Ezechias being king of the Iewes, and Azaria great Bishop of the holy temple, Abacucke Prophet in Iewrie, and Merodach being king in Babylon, and when the Lacedemonians built Byzance (which now is Constantinople,) Phalaris the famous Tyrant was then liuing.
Of this Phalaris, Ouid saith, that he was deformed in his face, pore The description of Phalaris. blinde of his eyes, and exceeding couetous of riches, and neuer obserued any thing that he promised. He was thankfull to his friends, and cruell to his enemies: finally, he was such a one, that tyrannies which seuerally were scattered in others, in him alone were altogether assembled.
Amongst all the iniquities that he inuented, and amongst the tyranies that he committed, he had one vertue very great, which was, that euen as he was head of all tyrannies, so was he chief louer and friends of all phylosophers and sage men.
And in all those sixe and thirtie yeares which he gouerned the Realm by tyrannie, they neuer found that any man touched his beard, nor that any man sate at his table with him, spake vnto him, or slept in his bed, nor that any man saw in his countenance any mirth, vnlesse it were some Phylosopher or Sage man, with whom, and to whom hee liberally put his body in trust.
The Prince that absenteth himselfe from Sage men, and accompanieth with fooles: I say vnto him, though hee bee a Prince of his commonwealth, he is a cruel person. For it is a greater paine to liue among fooles, then to die amongst Sages. Pulio in his first booke, Degestis Romanorum sayth, that a worthy and excellent painter presented a table to Octauian the Emperour, wherein were drawne all the vertuous Princes, and for their Chiefetaine, Octauian the Emperour was drawne: at the foote of this table were all the tyrannous princes painted, of the which Phalaris [Page 166] was chiefe and Captaine. This table viewed by Octauian the Emperour, he commendeth the worke, but hee disallowed the intention thereof, saying, The speech [...]. Me thinks not meete that I being a liue, should be set chiefe and principall of all the vertuous men that are dead. For during the time of this wicked life, we reall subiect to the vices of weake & feeble flesh. Also it seemeth vnto me an vniust doing, that they should put Phalaris for principall and Captaine of all the tyrants: since he was a scourge and enemie to fooles and ignorant men: and so earnest a louer and friend of Sages, and wise Phylosophers The fame of this cruell Phalaris being knowne, and his extreme cruelties he vsed, spred through all Greece.
A neighbour and Artificer of Athens called Perillus (a man very excellent in mettels, and a great worker in works of fountaines,) came to Phalaris the tyrant, saying, that he would make such a kinde of torment, that his heart should remaine reuenged, and the offender well punished. The matter was, that this workeman made a Bull of Brasse, wherein there was a gate by the which they put the offender, and in putting the fire vnder the Bull, it roared, and cryed, in manner as it had bene aliue: which thing was not onely a horrible and cruell torment to the miserable creature that endured it, but also it was terrible to him or those that saw it.
Let vs not maruell neither at the one, nor at the orhet: for truely the pitifull heart (which is not fleshed in in crueltie) hath as much pitie to see another man suffer, as of the sorow and torment which hee himselfe feeleth.
Phalaris therefore seeing the inuenuention of this torment, (whereof the inuentor hoped for great reward) prouided, that the inuentor of the same should bee put within the Bull, and that the cruelty of the torment shuld be experimented in none, saue onely on the inuentor.
Truely in this case Phalaris shewed himselfe not a cruell tyrant, but rather a mercifull Prince and a Sage Phylosopher: for nothing can bee more iust, then that the inuention of the ma [...]ce bee executed on the fraile flesh the inuentor.
Now because Phalaris was a greate friend of Sages, the Philosophers of Greece came oftentimes to see him, which were very gently receyued of him. Though to say the trueth they profited more with his goods, then he did with their Philosophy.
This tyrant Phalaris was not onely a friend of Sages: but also hee was very well learned, and deepely seen in morall Philosophy: the which thing appeareth well in the Epistles which he wrote with his owne hand, I can not tell wherein hee shewed himselfe greater, eyther in the sentences and doctrines which hee wrote with his penne: or in the slaughter and cruelties which he did with his sword.
O how many companions had Phalaris the tyrant, in this case in times past, and that (as I would) there were none also at this time present, which in their pleasant wordes The frailtie of the flesh. did resemble the Emperour Nero.
I neuer read other thing of those that are gone, neither haue I seene otherwise of those that are present, but many they are that blase vertues, and infinite which runne after vices. For of truth wee are very light of tongue and too feeble of flesh.
The Epistles which this Phalaris wrote are knowne to al men, I meane of those which know Greek, or Laten: and for those that know them not, I was willing to draw these that are present, and to put them in our vulgar tongue for two causes.
The one to the end Princes might [Page 168] see how good a thing it is to be Sage, and how tyrants [...]were praysed for being Sages, and giuing good counsell.
The other, to the end the people might see how easie it is to speake wel and how hard it is to worke well. For there is nothing better cheape in the world then counsell. The sententences therefore of the Epistles of Phalaris are these which follow, in such sort as I could most briefly gather them, to reduce them in good and profitable stile to write them.
The particular loue which princes shew to one more then to another, breedeth oftentimes much enuy in their realmes For the one being loued and the other hated, of this commeth hatred, and of hatred commes euill thoughts, of euill thoughts proceedeth malice, and of malice commeth euill words, the which breake out into worse deeds.
Finally, when a Prince sheweth not to equals his fauour indifferently, he setteth fire in his commonwealth. Princes ought to forbid, and sages ought to consent, that rebels and quarellers shuld trouble those which are quiet and peace makers: for when the people rise, immediatly couetousnesse Couetousnes the ouer throw of Iustice. is awaked. When couetousnesse groweth, iustice falleth, force and violence ruleth, snatching reigneth, lecherie is at libertie, the euill haue power, and the good are oppressed: finally all do reioyce one to liue to the preiudice of another, and euery man to seeke his owne priuate commoditie. Manie vaine men do raise discentions and quarrels amongst the people, thinking that in troubled water, they should augment their estates, who in short space doe not onely lose the hope of that they sought: but also are put out of that they possessed. For it is not onely reasonable, but also most iust, that those by experience feele that, which their blinde malice will not suffer them to know.
It is much good for the people that the gouernours bee not vnfortunate, but that of their nature they were happy. For to luckie princes fortune giueth many things euen as they demand, yea and giueth them better then they locke for. What princes ought to doe.
The noble and valiant Princes, when they see themselues with other princes, or that they are present in great acts, ought to shew the freenes of their hearts, the greatnesse of their realme, the preheminence of their person, the loue of their commonwealth, and aboue all the discipline of their court, and the grauitie of their counsell and pallace. For the Sage and curious men should not behold the prince in the apparrell, which hee weareth: but the men which he hath to counsell him.
The Sage men, and those that be not couetous, if they doe employ their forces to heape vp treasures, ought to remember in their hearts, how to employ themselues to spende their money well: Sith fortune is Mistresse in all things, and that to her they doe impute both good and euill workes, hee alone may be called a princely man, who for no contrariety of fortune is ouercome: For truly that man is of a stout courage, whose heart is not vanquished by the force of Fortune: Though we prayse one for valiant with the sword, wee will not therefore prayse him for excellent with the penne. Although hee bee excellent with his penne, hee is not therefore excellent with his tongue: Though he haue a good tongue, hee is not therefore well learned: And though hee be learned, hee hath not therfore a good renowm, And thogh hee hath a good renowme he is not therefore of a good life: For wee are bound to receiue the doctrine, of many which write: but we are not bound [Page 169] to follow the liues which they doe leade. There is no worse office amongst men, then for to take the charge to punish the vices of another, and therefore a man ought to fly from it, as for the pestilence: for in correcting vices, hatred is more sure to the corrector, then amendment of life is to the offender. He hath & possesseth much that hath good friends: for many aide their friends when they would haue holpē them more if they could. For the true loue is not wearyed to loue, nor ceaseth not to profite. Though Sage men haue lost much, they ought not therfore to dispaire, but that they shall come to it againe in time. For in the ende time doth not cease to doe his accustomed alterations, nor perfect friends cease not to doe that which they ought.
The proud & disdainfull man (for the most part) alwayes falleth into some euill chaunce: therefore it is a commendable medecine some times to be perseecuted, for aduersitie maketh a wise man liue more safely, & to walke in lesse daunger. For so much as wee doe excuse him which cōmitteth the fault, there is neither the offender, nor the offence but deserueth paine. For such a one that committeth the faulte through sudden anger, did euill: and if hee did commit it by deliberation, he did much worse. To desire to doe all things by reason is good, and likewise to lay them all in order is good, but it is very harde: For temperate men haue such respect in compassing their doings, and by weight to cast all the inconueniences, that scarcely they euer determine to goe about it.
To the man which hath gouernement two things are dangerous, that is to say, too soone, or too late: But of those two, the worst is too soone. For if by determining late, a man looseth that which he might haue gotten: by determining too soone, that is lost, which is now gained, and that which a man might haue gained.
To men which are too hasty, chance daylie manie euills and daungers, as saith the old prouerbe, The hasty man neuer wanteth woe: For the man being vnpacient, and hauing his vnderstanding Two things requisite in euery man. high, afterwards come quarrels and brawlings, displeasures, varieties, and also vanities, which loseth their goods, and putteth their persons in danger. Sith all naturally desire to bee happie, hee alone amongst all others may be called happie, of whom they may truely say: Hee gaue good doctrine to liue & lest good example to dye.
These and many other sentences of Phalaris the Tyrant, wrote in his Letters, whereof Cicero profited much in his works, and Seneca also in his Epistles, and manie other writers besides. For this Tyraunt was verie briefe in wordes, and compendious in Sentences.
This Phalaris being in his Cittie of Agrigentine, a Phylosopher of Greece wrote him a taunting Letter, charging him with Tyrannie: to which he made answere with this Letter following.
The Letter of Phalaris the Tyrant, to Popharco the Phylosopher.
PHalaris Agrigentine, wisheth vnto The letter of Phalaris. thee Popharco the Phylosopher, health and consolation, through the comfortable Gods. I receyued thy Letter heere in Agrigentine, and though it sauoured somewhat Satyrlike, I was not agrieued therewith: For of Phylysophers and Sages, (as thou art,) wee should not bee grieued with the sharpe wordes you tell vs, but onely to consider the intention [Page 170] whervpō you speake them. Quarrellers & malicious persons, will haue the words by weight and measute, but the vertuous and patient men do not regard but the intentions. For if wee should goe about to examine euery word they speake vnto vs, wee should giue our selues to much paine, and we should alwayes set in the Common-wealth debate. I am a Tyrant, and as yet am in tyrannie: but I sweare vnto the immortal gods, whether the words were good or bad, I neuer altered it. For if a good man tell it mee, I take it for my pastime. Thou writest vnto me that all Greece is offended with mee there: but I let thee vnderstand, that all Agrigentine is all edified with thee here. And thereof thou maist praise mee. For if the Tyrants were not so much dispraysed, the Phylosophers should not be so well loued. Thou art counted for good, and art good: and I am counted for euill, and am euill: But in mine opinion thou shuldst not be proud for the one, neither I should dispaire for the other. For the day of the life is long, and therein Fortune doth many things: and it may wel be, that from a tyrant I shall be a Phylosopher: and thou from a phylosopher shalt be a tirant. See my Friend, that the long time maketh oftentimes the Earth to be turned to siluer: and the siluer and Gold becommeth nothing worth. I meane, that there neuer was a tirant in any realme, but that first he had bene brought vp in the studie of Greece. I will not denie, that all the renowmed Tyrants haue not bin nourished in Scictle: but also thou shalt not deny me, that they were not borne in Greece. Therefore see and beholde to whom the faulte is: from the mother which bare them, or from the Nurse which gaue them sucke. I doe not say that it shall bee, but I say that it may well be, that if I were there in Greece, I should bee a better philosopher then thou: and if thou wert heere in Agrigentine, thou wouldest be a worser Tyrant then I. I would thou shouldest think, that thou mightest be better in Greece where thou art: & that I might be worse in Agrigentine, where I am. For that thou dost not so much good as thou mightest do: and I doe not so much euil as I may doe. The cunning man Perillus came into these parts and hath made a Bull, wherin he hath put a kind of torment, the most fearfullest in the world: and truely I caused, that that which his malice had inuented, should be of none other then of himselfe experimēted. For there is no iuster Cruelty wel rewarded. law, that when any workmā hath inuented Engins, to make other men die, then to put them to the torments by them inuented, to know the experience in themselues. I beseech thee hartily to come & see me, and be thou assured thou shalt make me good. For it is a good signe for the sick, when he acknowledgeth his sicknes to the phisitian. I say no more to thee, but that once againe I returne to solicite thee, that thou failest not to come see mee, for in the ende, if I doe not profite of thee, I am sure thou shalt profite by me, & if thou winnest, I cannot lose.
CHAP. XLVII. How Philip K: of Macedonie, Alexander the great, the K: Ptolomeus, the K: Antigonus, the K: Archelaus, & Pirrus K: of the Epirotes, were all great louers and friendes of the Sages,
IF Quintus Curtius deceiue me not, the great Alexāder, sonne to k. Philip of Macedonie, did not deserue to bee called great, for that hee was accompanied The praise of Alexander the great. with thousands of men of Warre, but onely hee wanne the renowne of Great, for that hee had more Phylosophers on his Counsell [Page 171] then all other Princes had.
This great Prince neuer tooke vpon him Warres, but that first the order of executing the same should before his presence be examined of the The prayse of Alexander the Great. Sages, and wise Phylosophers. And truely hee had reason: for in affayres where good counsells haue proceeded, they may alwayes looke for a good ende.
These Hystoriographers which wrote of great Alexander (as well the Grecians as the Latines,) knowe not whether the fiercenesse wherewith he strooke his Enemyes was greater, or the humanity wherewith hee embraced his counsel. Though the sage philosophers which so accompanyed the great Alexander, were manie in number: yet notwithstanding amongst all those, Aristotle, Anaxarcus, and Onesichrates, were his most familiars. And heerein Alexander shewed himselfe very wise. For wise Princes ought to take the counsell of manie, but they ought to determine and conclude vpon the opinion of fewe.
The great Alexander did not content himselfe to haue Sages with him, neyther to send onely to desire those which were not his: but oftentimes himself in person would go see them, visite them, and counsell with them, Saying: That the Princes which are the seruants of Sages, come to be made Maisters and Lordes ouer all.
In the time of Alexander Magnus, Diogenes the philosopher liued, who neither for intreatie, nor yet for any promises that were made, would come for to see Alexander the Great. Wherefore Alexander the Great went for to see him, and when hee had desired him that hee would goe with him, and accompany him, Diogenes answered.
O Alexander, since that thou The saying of Diogines. wilt winne honour in keeping of men in thy company: it is not reason then that I should loose it, to forsake my studie. For in following of thee, I shall not follow my selfe: and beeing thine, I shall cease to bee mine.
Thou art come to haue the name of the Great Alexander, for conquering the world, and I haue attained to come to renowme of a good Phylosopher, in flying the world. And if thou dost imagine that thou hast gotten and wonne: I thinke I haue not erred nor lost. And since thou wilt be no lesse in authoritie then a King, doe not thinke that I will lose the estimation of a Phylosopher. For in the world there is no greater losse vnto a man, then when hee looseth his proper libertie.
When he had spoken these words, Alexander saide vnto them that were about him with a lowde voyce: By The saying of Alexander. the immortall Gods I sweare, and as god Mars rule my hands in Battell, if I were not Alexander the Great, I would bee Diogenes the Phylosopher.
And hee saide further, In mine opinion there is no other Felicitie vpon the earth then to bee King Alexander. who commaundeth all, or to bee Diogenes to commaund Great Alexander: who commaundeth all,
As king Alexander was more familiar with some Philosophers, then with others: so hee esteemed some bookes more then others. And they say he read oftentimes in the Iliades of Homer, which is a booke where the story of the destruction of Troy is: and that when he slept, he layd vnder his head vpon a bolster his sword, and also his booke.
When the great King Alexander was borne, his father Philip king of Macedonia did two notable things. The first was, that hee sent many Two notable things of K. Philip of Macedonie. and very rich gifts into the Ile of Delphos, where the Oracle of Apollo was, to the ende to present them with him, and to pray him, that it would please him for to preserue his sonne.
[Page 172] The other thing that hee did was, that immediately hee wrote a letter to the great Philosopher Aristotle, wherin he sayd these words.
The letter of King Philip to Aristotle the Phylosopher,
PHilip King of Macedonia wishes health and peace, to the philosopher Aristotle which readeth in the Vniuersitie of Greece, I let the vnderstand that Olympias my wife is brought to bedde of a goodly man childe, whereof both she and I, and all Macedonia do reioyce: For kings and Realms ought to haue great ioy, when that there is borne a sonne sueccssour of the natural prince of the prouince. I render thankes vnto the immortall gods, and haue sent many great gifts to the Temples, and it was not so much for that I haue a son, as for that they haue giuenhim vnto me, in the time of so great and excellent Philosopher. I hope that thou wilt bring him vp, & teach him in such sort that by heritage hee shall be Lord of my patrimony of Macedonia, and by desert he shall be Lord of Asia: to that they should call him my sonne, and thee his father. Vale foelix, iterumque vale.
Ptolomeus father in law, who was the eight king of the Aegyptians, did greatly loue the Sages as well of Caldea, as of Greece, and this thing was esteemed for a great vertue in king Ptolome: For there was as much enuy betweene the phylosophers of Greece, and the Sages of Egypt: as betweene the Captaines of Rome, and the Captaines of Carthage.
This Ptolome was very wise, and did desire greatly to bee accompanied The prayse of Ptolome with Phylosophers: and after this hee learned the letters of the Latines, Caldes, and Hebrues: for the which cause, though the kings named Ptolomei were eleuen in number, and all warrelike men: yet they put this for the Chiefe, and Captaine of all, not for battels which hee wanne, but for the sentences which he learned.
This king Ptolomeus had for his familiar, a Philosopher called Estilpho Magarense, who was so entirely beloued of this Prince, that (laying aside gentlenesse and benefits which hee shewed him) hee did not onely eate with the king at his table: but oftentimes the king made him drink of his owne cup.
And as the sauours which Princes shew to their seruants, are but as a watch to proue the malitious: it chanced, that when this king gaue the philosopher to drinke that which remayned in his cuppe, an Egyptian knight moued with enuy, sayde vnto King Ptolome. I thinke Lord how thou art neuer satisfied with drinking, to leaue that which remaineth in the cuppe, for the Philosopher to drinke after thee. To whom the king answered. Thou sayst well, that the Phylosopher Estilpho is neuer filled with that which I doe giue him: For that which remaineth in my cup, doth not profite him so much to drinke: as the Phylosophy which remaineth in him should profite thee, if thou wouldst take it.
The king Antigonus was one of the most renowmed seruants that king Alexander the great euer had, who after his death enherired a great part of his Alexander vnhappy in his death. Empire: for how much happy the king Alexander was in his life, so much hee was vnhappy at the time of his death: because he had no children which might enherite his goods, and that hee had such seruants as spoyled him of his renowme.
This king Antigonus was an vnthrist, and excessiue in all vices: But for all hee loued greatly the phylosophers, [Page 173] which thing remained vnto him from king Alexander, whose pallace was a schoole of al the good phylosophers of the world. Of this ensample they may see what great profite ensueth, of bringing vp of them that bee yong, for there is none that euer was so wicked or inclined vnto euill: but that in long continuance may profite somwehat in his youth.
This king Antigonus loued two philosophers greatly, the which florished in that time, that is to say, Amenedius, and Abio, of which two Abio was wel learned, and very poore: For in that time no phylosopher durst openly reade philosophy, as if hee were worth any thing in temporall goods.
As Laertius sayth, and as Pulio declares it better, in the book of the rulers and noble men of the Greekes.
The Schooles of the Vuiuersitie were so correct, that the philosopher which knew most, had least goods: so that they did not glorifie of any thing eise, but to haue pouertie, Pholosophers onely reioyce in pouertie. and to know much of philosophy. The case was such, that the phylosopher Abio was sicke, and with that sickenes he was so vexed, that they might almost see the bones of his weake bodie. The king Antigonus sent to visite him by his owne sonne, by whom hee sent him much money to helpe him withall. For hee liued in extreame pouertie, as it behoued the professors of phylosophy. Abio was sore sicke being aged, and crooked, and though he had made himselfe so leane with sicknesse: yet notwithstanding he burned alwayes vpon the weeke of good life. I meane that he had no lesse courage to despise those gifts: then the king Antigonus had nobles to send them.
This Phylosopher not contented to haue despised those gifts in such sort, sayd vnto the sonne of Antigonus who brought them: Tell king Antigonus that I giue him great thankes, for the good entertainement hee gaue me alwayes in my life, and for the gifts he sends mee now at my death.
For one friend can doe more to another, then to offer him his person, to depart with his proper goods. Tell the king thy father, that I maruell what hee should meane, that I now beeing foure score yeares of age, and haue walked all my life time naked in this world, should now be laden with vestures and money, since I A custome among the Egyptians. must passe so great a gulfe in the Sea, to go out of this world, The Egyptians haue a custome to lighten the burden of their Camels when they passe the Desartes of Arabia, which is much better then to ouercharge them. I meane, that he onely passeth without trauell the dangers of the life, which banisheth frō him that thought of temporall goods of this world.
Thirdly, thou shalt say to the King thy Father, that from hence forth when any man will dye, he doe not succour nor helpe him with Money, Golde, nor Riches, but with good and ripe counsell. For Golde will make him leaue his life with sorrow, and good Counsell will moue him to take his death with patience.
The fifth king of the Macedonians was called Archelaus, who they say to be the grandfather of king Philip, father of the great Alexander. This king boasteth himselfe to descend from Menelaus King of the Grecians, and principall Captaine which was at the destruction of Troy. This king Archelaus was a great friend to the Sages, and amongst others there was a Poet with him called Euripides, who at that time had no lesse glory in his kinde of Poetrie: then Archelaus in his king dome being king of Macedonia. For now a dayes, we esteeme more the Sages for the bookes which they wrote then we do exalt kings for the Realms which they ruled, or the battels which they ouercame.
[Page 174] The familiaritie which Euripides had with the king Archelaus was so great, that in the Realme of Macedonie nothing was done, but first it was examined by the hands of this Philosopher.
And as the simple and ignorant would not naturally be subiect to the The miserable death of Euripdes. Sage: it chanced that one night Euripides was talking a long time with the King, declaring vnto him the ancient Histories: and when the poore Poet would depart to goe home to his house, his enemies espyed him, and let the hungrie dogges flie vpon him: the which did not onely teare him in peeces, but also eate him euery morsell. So that the intrayles of the dogges, were the wofull graue of the most miserable Poet.
The King Archelaus being certified of this wofull case, immediately (as soone as they told him) was so chafed, that almost he was bereft of his senses. And hereat maruell not at all: For gentle hearts doe alter greatly, when they are aduertised of any suddaine mishappe. As the loue which the King had to Euripides in his life was much, so likewise the sorow which he felt at his death was very great: for he shed many teares from his eyes, he cut the hairs off his head, he rounded his beard, hee changed his apparrell which he ware, and aboue all, he made as solemne a funerall to Euripides, as if they had buried Vlisses. And not contented with al these things he was neuer merry, vntill such time he had done cruell execution of the malefactors: for truely the iniury or death which is done vnto him whom wee loue: is no other but as a bath and token of our owne good wills. After iustice was executed of those homicides, and that some of the bones (all gnawne of the dogs) were buried, a Grecian Knight said vnto King Archelaus, I let the know (excellent king) that all Macedonta is offended with thee because that for so small a losse thou hast shewed so great sorrow.
To whom king Archelaus aunswered, Among Sages it is a thing sufficiently The worthy saying of Archelaus. often tryed, that noble hearts ought not to shew themselues sad for mishaps and sodaine chances: for the king being sadde his Realme cannot, (and though it might, it ought not) shew it selfe merry. I haue heard my father say once, that Princes should neuer shed teares, vnlesse it were for one of these causes.
1 The first, the Prince should bewaile the losse & danger of his common wealth: for the good Prince ought to pardon the iniuries done to his person, but to reuenge the least act done to the Common-wealth, he ought to hazard himselfe.
2 The second, the good Prince ought to lament, if any man haue touched his honour in any wise: for the prince which weepeth not drops of bloud for the things touching his honour, deserueth to be buried quicke in his graue.
3 The third, the good Prince ought to bewayle those which can little, and suffer much: For the Prince which bewayleth not the calamities of the poore, in vaine, and without profit liueth on the earth.
4 The fourth, the good Prince ought to bewayle the glory and prosperity wherein the tyrants are: For that Prince which with tyranny of the euill is not displeased, with the hearts of the good is vnworthy to bee beloued.
5 The fift, the good Prince ought to bewayle the death of Wise men: For to a Prince there can come no greater losse, then when a wise man dyeth in his Common wealth.
These were the words, which the King Archelaus answered the Grecian Knight, who reproued him because he [Page 175] had wept for the death of Euirpides the Philosopher.
The ancient Historiographers can say no more, of the estimation which the Philosophers and wise men had, A saying worthy obseruation. as well the Greekes as the Latines: but I will tell you one thing worthy of noting. It is well knowne through all the world, that Scipio the Ethnicke, was one of the worthiest that euer was in Rome: for by his name, and by his occasion, Rome got such a memory as shall endure.
And this was not only for that he conquered Affricke, but for the great worthinesse of his person. Men ought not to esteeme a little these two giftes in one man, that is to say to be happy and aduenturous: For many of the Auncients in times past wanne glory by their swords, and after lost it by their euill liues. The Romane Historiographers say, that the first that wrote in Heroicall meeter in the Latine tongue, was Ennius the Poet, the workes of whom was so esteemed of Scipio the Ethnick, that when this aduenturous and so luckie Romane dyed, he commaunded in his will and testament, that they should hang the image of this Ennius the Poet ouer his graue.
By that the great Scipio did at his death, wee may well coniecture how great a friend he was of Sages in his life: since he had rather for his honour, see the Statue of Ennius on his graue: then the banner wherwith he wonne and conquered Affricke.
In the time of Pirrus (which was King of the Epirotes, and great enemy of the Romanes) flourished a Philosopher named Cinas, borne in Thessaly. who (as they say, was the Disciple of Demosthenes. The Historiographers at that time did so much esteeme this Cinas, that they sayde he was the Master and measure of mans eloquence: for he was very pleasant in words and profound sentences. This Cinas serued for three offices in the Palace of king Pirrus.
1 First he made pastime at his Table in that hee did declare: for he had a good Sentences of Cinna. grace in things of laughter.
2 Secondarily, he wrote the valiant deedes of his history: for in his stile hee had great cloquence, and to write the truth he was a witnesse of sight.
3 Totrdly, he went for Ambassadouring at affayres of great importance: for he was naturally subtill and witty, and in dispatching businesse hee was very fortunate. He vsed so many meanes in his businesse, and had so great perswasion in his words, that hee neuer tooke vpon him to speake of things of warre: but eyther he set a long truce, or else hee made a perpetuall peace. The King Pirrus saide to this Cinas. O Cinas for 3. things I thanke to the immortall Gods.
1 The first, for that they created mee a King, and not a seruant: for the greatest good that mortall men haue, is to haue liberty to commaund many, and not bee bound to obey any,
2 The second, I thanke the immortal gods for that they naturally made mee stout of heart: for the man which with euery trifle is abashed, it were better for him to leaue his life.
3 The third, I giue the immortall gods thanks for that in the gouernement of my commonwealth, and for the great affaires and busines of my realme (as well in wars as in other things) they gaue me such a man (as thou art) in my company: For by thy gentle speech, I haue conquered and abtained many Cities, which by my cruell sword I could neuer winne nor attaine. These were the words which Pyrrus sayd vnto his friend Cinas the Poet. Let euery Prince know now, how great louers of wise men those were in times past: and as vpon a sodaine I haue recited these few examples, so with small study I haue heaped infinite Histories.
THE SECOND BOOKE OF THE DYALL OF PRINCES. WHEREIN THE AVTHOR TREATETH HOW NOBLE Princes and great Lordes should behaue themselues towardes their Wiues: And how they ought to nourish and bring vp their Chyldren.
CHAP. I, ¶ Of what excellencie Marriage is, and whereas common people marrie of free will, Princes and Noble-men ought to marry of necessitie.
AMong al the friendships & companies of this life, there is none so naturall as that betweene the No loue comparable to that of man and wife. husband & the wife liuing in one house: For all other companyes are caused by free will onely, but this proceedeth both by wil and necessitie. There is at this day no Lyon so fierce, no Serpent so venemous, no Viper so infectiue, no Aspicke so mortall, neyther any beast so terrible, but at the least both male and female do once in the yeare meete and conioyne: and although that in brute beasts there lacketh reason, yet notwithstanding they haue a natural instinction to assemble themselues for the conseruation of their kinde.
In this case men deserue no lesse reproch then Beasts merite praise: For after that the Females by generation are bigge, they neuer agree that the Males should accompanie with them. According to the diuersity of Nations, so among thēselues they differ the one from the other, in Lawes, Languages, Ceremonies, & customs: but in the ende all agree in one thing, for that they enforce themselues to celebrate marriage. As the Scripture teacheth vs, Since the world was created, there hath nothing bene more ancient, then the Sacrament of Marriage: For that day that Man was formed, the selfe same day he celebrated mariage with a Woman, in the terrestriall Paradise.
The ancient Hystoriographers (aswell Greekes as Latines) wrote many great things in the praise of Mariage: but they could not say nor write so much, as continuall experience doth shew vs. Therfore leauing the superfluous, Fiue things follow marriage. and taking the most necessary, [Page 178] wee say that fiue commodities follow the Sage man, who hath taken the yoke of Matrimonie.
The first is, the memorie which remaineth to the children, as successors and heyres of their Fathers. For as the Phylosopher Pythagoras sayeth: When a father passeth out of this present life, and leaueth behinde him a Childe being his Heyre, they cannot say vnto him that hee dyeth, but that he waxeth young in his Childe, since the child doth inherite the Flesh, the Goods, and the memorie of the Father.
Among the ancients it was a common prouerbe, that the taste of all tastes is Bread, the sauour of all sauours is Salt, and the greatest loue of all Loues is from the Fathers to their children. And though perchaunce we see the Father shew some rigor to their children, we ought not therefore to say that they hate them, and despise them: for the tender loue of the Father to the Sonne is such, that hee cannot endure him to doe any thing amisse, or worthy of rebuke. Not only The loue of the Father to the child. men of reason and brute beasts, but also the Hedge and Garden-trees, to their possibilitie, procure to continue their kinde: and it is plainly seene, in that before the fruits and hearbs were formed to be eaten, the seeds and kirnels were made to be kept. Men naturally desire honor in their life, and memorie after theyr death. Therefore (I say) that they come to honour by High, and Noble, and Heroycall facts, but the Memorie is left by the good and Legittimate children: For the children which are borne in adultrie, are begotten in sinne, and with great care are nourished.
The second benefit of Marriage is, that they auoyd adulterie, and it is no small matter to auoyde this vice. For the Adulterers are not onely taken in the Christian religion for offenders: but euen amongst the Gentiles also, they are counted infamous.
The sage Solon in the lawes that he gaue vnto the Athenians, commaunded vpon streight precepts that they The saying of Solon. should Marrie, to auoyde adulterie, vpon paine that the childe borne in adultrie, should be made the common slaue of the Cittie. The Romanes (as men foreseeing all things,) ordained in the tables of theyr Lawes, that the children which were born in adultery should not be heyres of the Goods of theyr Fathers. When the Oratour Eschynes was banished out of Athens, as he came by the Rhodes, he tooke no such pains in any one thing as he did in perswading the Rhodians to marry, and not to liue in adulterie: For among those barbarous, Matrimonie was not common, but onely among them which were Officers of the Commonwealth.
Cicero in a familiar Epistle, saith: that the great Romaine Marcus Porcio, being gouernor in the Commonwealth, neuer agreed that an Vnckle of his should bee maister of the Romain chiualry, vnlesse he were marryed: which office was promised him by the Senate. His name was Rufus, a stout and valiant man of warre: this notwithstanding Marcus Porcio saide, that that praise which Rufus deserued for being valiant, and hardie: he lost againe for liuing in adulterie. And that he would neuer graunt his voyce, nor bee in place where they committed any charge in the warres to a man that had not a lawfull wife.
I say therefore, that if the Gentiles and Infidels esteemed Marriage so much, and despised the deedes of the adulterers so greatly: much more true Christians should be in this case warie and circumspect. For the gentiles feared nothing but onely infamy: but all true Christians ought to feare both infamie, and also paine. Since that of necessitie mans seede must increase, [Page 179] and that wee see men suffer themselues to bee ouercome with the flesh: it were much better that they should maintaine a good Houshold, and liue vprightly with a wife, then to waste theyr goods, and burden theyr conscience with a Concubine. For it is oftentimes seene, that that which a Gentleman consumeth abrode vpon an Harlot with shame, would keepe his Wife and Children at home with honestie.
The third commoditie of Marryage A third cō modity of Marriage. is, the laudable and louing companie, the which is, or ought to bee betweene them that are Matryed: The anciēt Philophers defining what Man was, saide; That hee was a creature, the which by nature was sociable communicable, & reasonable: wherof it followeth, that the man beeing solitarie and close in his conditions, cannot bee in his stomacke but enuious. We that are men loue the good inclination, and doe also commend the same in beasts: for all that the sedicious man and the resty horse eate, wee thinke it euill spent. A sad man, a sole man, a man shut in, and solitary, what profite can hee doe to the people? For if euery man should be locked vp in his house, the Commonwealth should forthwith perish.
My intention is to speake against the Vacabonds, which without taking vpon them any craft or facultie, passe the age of fortie, of fiftie yeares, and would not, nor will not marrie yet, because they would be vicious all the daies of their life. It is a great shame and conscience to many men, that neuer determine with themselues to take vpon them any estate, neyther to bee Marryed, chaste, secular, or Ecclesiasticall: but as the corke vpon the water they swimme, whether their Sensualitie leadeth them.
One of the most laudable and holy companyes which is in this life, is the companie of the Man and the Woman, in especiallie if the woman bee vertuous: For the noble and vertuous wife withdraweth all the sorowes from the heart of her Husband, and accomplisheth his desires, whereby he liueth at rest. When the wife is vertuous, and the husband wise, wee ought to belieue that betweene them two is the true loue: For the one not being suspect with the other, and hauing childrē in the midst, it is vnpossible but that they should liue in concord. For all that I haue read & seene, I would say, that if the mā & the wife doe liue quietly together, a man may not only cal them good maried folks, (but also holy persons) for to speake the truth the yoke of matrimony is so great, that it cannot be accomplished without much merite. The contrarie ought and may be said of those which are euill marryed: whom we will not What inconenience so loueth them that are not maryed in the feare of the Lord. call a companie of Saintes, but rather a companie of diuells. For the wise that hath an euill husband, may say, shee hath a diuell in her house: and the Husband that hath an euill Wife, let him make account that hee hath a Hell it selfe in his house. For the euill wiues are worse then infernall Furies. Because in hell there are none tormented but the euill onely: but the euill woman tormenteth both the good and the euill.
Concluding therefore this matter, (I say also and affirme) that betwixt the Husband and the wife which are wel married, is the true and very loue: and they onely and no others, may be called perfit and perpetuall friends. The other Parents and Friendes, if they do loue and praise vs in our presence, they hate and despise vs in our absence. If they giue vs faire words, they beare vs euill hearts: Finallie, they loue vs in our prosperitie, and forsake vs in our aduersitie: but it is not so amongst the Noble and vertuous [Page 180] married persons: For they loue both within and without the house, in prosperity, and in aduersitie, in pouertie and in riches, in absence, and in presence, seeing themselues merrie, and perceyuing themselues sad: and if they doe it not, truely they ought to doe it: For when the Husband is troubled in his foote, the wife ought to be grieued at her heart.
The fourth commoditie of Marriage is, that the men and women marryed, The fourth commodity belonging to mariage. haue more authoritie and grauitie then the others. The lawes which were made in olde time in the fauour Marriage, were manie and diuers: For Capharoneus, in the lawes that hee gaue to the Egyptians, cōmanded and ordained vpon grieuous paines, that the man that was not maryed, should not haue any office of gouernment in the Common-wealth. And he saide further, that hee that hath not learned to gouern his house, can euil gouerne a common-wealth.
According to the Lawes that hee gaue to the Athenians, hee perswaded all those of the Common-wealth to marry themselues voluntarily: but to the heads and Captaines, which gouerne the affaires of warre, hee commaunded to marrie of necessitie, saying: That to men which are lecherous, God seldome giueth victoryes.
Lycurgus the renowmed gouernor and giuer of the lawes to the Lacedemonians, commaunded that all Captaines of the armyes, and the Priestes of the temples should bee marryed: saying, That the sacrifices of Marryed men were more acceptable to the Gods, The worthie sayings of Lycurgus. then those of any other. As Plinie saith, in an Epistle that hee sent to Falconius his friend, rebuking him for that hee was not marryed: where he declareth that the Romaines in olde time had a law, that the Dictatour, and the Pretor, the Censour and the Questour, and all the Knights should of necessity be marryed: For the man that hath not a wife and children Legitimate in his house, cannot haue nor hold great authoritie in the Common-wealth.
Plutarche, in the booke that he made of the praise of Marriage, saith: that the Priests of the Romaines did not agree to them that were vnmarryed, to come and sit downe in the temples: so that the young-Maydens prayed without at the Church dore, and the young men prayed on theyr knees in the Temple, onely the marryed men were permitted to sit or stand.
Plynie in an Epistle that hee wrote to Fabarus his father in law, saith, that the Emperor Augustus had a custom, that he neuer suffered any yong man in his presence to sitte, nor permitted any man Marryed, to tell his tale on The prayse of marriage foote. Plutarch, in the booke that hee made in the praise of women, saieth: that since the Realme of Corinth was peopled more with Batchelours then with Marryed men, they ordayned, amongst them, that the man or woman that had not bene marryed, and also that had not kept Children and House, (if they liued after a certaine age) after theyr deaths should not be buryed.
CHAP. II. ¶ The Authour following his purpose, declareth that by meanes of Marryage, many mortall enemies haue beene made good and perfite Friends.
BY sundrie examples that we haue declared, and by all that which remaineth to declare, a man may knowe well enough, of what excellencie Matrimonie is: not onely for the charge of Conscience, but also for the things touching [Page 181] honour: for to say the truth, the men that in the Common-wealth are married, giue small occasion to bee slaundered, and haue more cause to be honourd. VVe cannot deny, but that Matrimony is trouble some and chargeable to them that be marryed for two causes: The one is, in bringing vp their children: and the other, The cares incident to ma [...]age. in suffering the importunities of their Mothers. Yet in fine, we cannot deny, but that the good and vertuous wife is shee that setteth a stay in the house, and keepeth her husband in estimation in the Common-wealth: for in the publike affayres, they giue more faith and credite vnto those that are charged with children, then vnto others that are loaden with yeeres.
The fifth commoditie that ensueth Matrimony, is the peace and reconciliations that are made betweene the enemies by meanes of Marriage. Men in this age are so couetous, so importune, and malicious, that there are very few but haue enemies, wherby groweth contention and debate: for by our weaknesse we fall daily into a thousand occasions of enmities; and scarcely wee can finde one to bring vs againe into friendship. Considering what men desire, what things they procure, and whereunto they aspire, I maruell not that they haue so few friends: but I much muse that they haue no more enemies. For in things of weight, they marke not who haue beene their friends, they consider not they are their neighbours, neyther they regard that they are Christians: but their conscience laid a part, and honestie set a side, euery man seeketh for himselfe and his own affayres, though it bee to the preiudice of all his neighbours. What friendshippe can there bee amongst proud men, since the one will goe before, and the other disdayneth to come behinde? What friendshippe can there bee amongst enuious men, since the one purchaseth, & the other possesseth? VVhat loue can there be between two couetous men, since the one dare not spend, & the other is neuer satisfied to hourd & heap vp? For all that we can read, see, goe, and trauell, & for all that we may do, we shall neuer see nor heare tell of men that haue lacked enemies: for either they be vicious or vertuous. If they be euil and vicious, they are alwaies hated of No man content with his owne estate. the good: and if they be good & vertuous, they are continually persecuted of the euill.
Many of the ancient Philosophers spent a great part of their time, and lost much of their goods, to search for remedies and meanes to reconcile them that were at debate & contention, and to make them by gentlenes good friends & louers. Some said that it was good & profitable to forget the enmities for a time: for many things are pardoned in time, which by reasō could neuer take end. Others said that for to appease the enemies it was good to offer mony, because mony doth not only breake the feminate & tender hearts, but also the hard and craggy rocks: others said, that the best remedy was, to set good men to bee mediators between them, in especially if they were sage & wise men: for the honest faces and stout hearts are ashamed whē they are proserred mony, & the good do humble thēselues by intreaty. These means wel considered, and the remedies wel sought out to make friends, there are none so ready and so true as Marriage: for the marriage done Sacramentally is of such and so great excellency, that betweene some it causeth perfect friendshippe, and betweene others it appeaseth great iniuries.
During the time that Iulius Caesar Marriage the cause of loue and amitie. kept him elfe as father-in-law to the great Pompeius, and that Pompeius [Page 182] held himselfe his sonne in law, there was neuer euill will nor quarells betweene them: but after that Pompeius was diuorced from the house of Caesar, hatred, enuy, and enmities engendred betweene them, in such sort that they contended in such, and so cruell warres, that Pompeius against his will lost his head, and also Iulius Caesar shortned his life. When those that dwelled in Rome rauished and robbed the daughters of the Sabines, i [...] after they had not changed their counsell, and of theeues to become husbands, without doubt the Romans bad beene all destroyed: for the Sabines had made an oath to aduenture both their goods and their liues, for to reuenge the iniuries done vnto them, their daughters and wiues: but by the meanes of Marriage they were conferred in great amitie and loue. For the Romanes receiued in marriage the daughters of the Sabines whome before they had rauished. Greater enmitie there cannot be, then that of God towards men, through the sin of Adam: notwithstanding there neuer was, nor neuer shall be greater friendship then that, which was made by the godly marriage: and for greater authoritie to Mariage a meanes of Peace betweene God and man. confirme marriage, the Sonne of God would that his Mother should be marryed; and afterward hee himselfe was present at a Mariage, where hee turned the Water into Wine, though now adayes the euill maried men doe turne the wine into water. He doth not speake here of Religious persons, nor men of the Church, neither of those which are closed in deuout places: for those (fleeing the occasions of the world, and choosing the wayes lesse dangerous) haue offered their soules to GOD, and with their bodies haue done him acceptable Sacrifices: for there is difference betweene the Religion of Christ, and the sinfull Sinagogue of the Iewes; for they offered Kidds and Muttons, but heere are not offered but teares and sighs. Leauing therefore all those secrets apart which men ought to leaue to God: I say and affirme, that it is a holy and commendable counsell to vse his profite with the Sacrament of Marriage, the which, though it bee taken of all voluntarily, yet Princes and great Lords ought to take it necessarily: For that Prince that hath no wife nor children shall haue in his Realme much grudging and displeasure. Plutarch in the Booke hee made of Marriage sayth, that amongst the Lidians there was a law well obserued and kept, that of necessitie their Kings and Gouernours should be marryed; and they had such respect to this thing, and were so circumspect in this matter, that if a Prince dyed, and left his Heyre an infant, they would not suffer him to gouerne the Realme vntill he were married. And they greatly lamented the day of the departing of their Queene out of this life; for with her death the gouernment ceased, the Royall authoritie remayned voyde, and the Common-wealth without gouernment, so long time as the King deferred to take another wife: and so they What is required of euery vertuous Prince. were sometimes without King or gouernment. For Princes are, or ought to be, the mirrour and example of all, to liue honest and temperate, the which cannot well bee done vnlesse they bee marryed, or that they see themselues to bee conquerors of the flesh, and being so, they are satisfyed: but if they be not marryed, and the flesh doth assault them, then they liue immediately conuered. Wherefore of necessitie they must goe by their Neighbours houses, or else by some other dishonest places, scattered abroad, to the reproach and dishonor of them and their kindred: and oftentimes to the great perill and danger of their Persons.
CHAP. III. Of sundry and diuers Lawes which the Ancients had in Contracting Matrimony, not onely in the choyse of Women, but also in the manner of celebrating Marriage.
IN all Nations, and in all the Realmes of the World, Marriage hath alwayes beene accepted, and marueilously commended: for otherwise the world had not beene peopled, nor yet the number of men multiplyed.
The ancients neuer disagreed one from another in the approbation and acception of Marriage: but there was amongst them great difference and strife, vpon the contracts, ceremonies, and vsages of the same. For they vsed as much difference in contracting Matrimony, and choosing their wiues: as these Epicures do desire the varietie of sundry delicate meates. The diuine Plato, in his Booke hee made of the Commonwealth, did counsell, that all thinges should be common, and that not onely in bruit beasts, in moueables, and heritages; but also that womē should be common: for he sayd, that if these two words, thine, and mine, were abolished and out of vse, there should not bee debates nor quarels in this world. They cal Plato, Diuine for many good things which he spake: but now they may call him Worldly, for the counsel profane which he gaue. I cannot tell what beastlinesse it may be called, nor what greater rudenes may be thought that the apparrell should be proper, and the wiues common. The bruite beast doth not know that which came out of her belly, longer then it sucketh of her brests. And in this sort it would chance to men, yea, and worse too, if women were common in the Common-wealth: for though one should know the Mother, which hath borne him, hee should not know the Father, which hath begotten him. The Tharentines (which were wel renowmed amongst the ancients, and A law among the Tharentines. not a little feared of the Romanes) had in their Citie of Tharente a law and custome to marry themselues with a legitimate wife, & to beget children: but besides her a man might yet chuse two others for his secret pleasures. Spartianus sayd, that the Emperour Hellus Verus, as touching women, was very dissolute: and since his wife was young and faire, and that she did complaine of him, because he led no honest life with her, hee spake these words vnto her: My wife, thou hast no cause to complayne of me, since I remaine with thee vntill such time as thou art quicke with childe: for the residue of the time, we husbands haue licence and priuiledge to seek our pastimes with other women. For this name of a wife containeth in it honour: but for the residue, it is a grieuous burden and painefull office.
The like matter came to Ptolomeus King of Egipt, of whom the Queene his wife did greatly complaine. Admit that all the Greekes haue beene esteemed to bee very wise, amongst all those, the Athenians were esteemed of most excellent vertue: for the Sages that gouerned the Commonwealth, remained in Athens with the Philosophers which taught the Sciences. The Sages of Athens ordeyned A law among the Athenians. that all the neighbours and inhabitants might keepe two lawfull wiues, and furthermore, vpon paine of grieuous punishments, did commaund, that none should presume, nor be so hardy to maintain any concubine; for they sayd, when men haunt the companie [Page 184] of light women, comonly they misuse their lawfull Wiues. As Plutarch saith in his Politiques, the cause why the Greekes made this lawe was, considering that man could not, nor ought not to liue without the companie of a woman, and therefore they would that a man should marrie with two wines. For if the one were diseased and lay in, yet the other might serue in bed, waite at the Table, and doe other businesses in the house.
Those of Athens had another great respect and cōsideration to make this law, which was this, that if it chanced the one to be barren, the other should bring forth children in the Commonwealth: and in such case, shee that brought forth Children, should be esteemed for Mistresse, and the other that was barren, should be taken for a seruant.
When this law was made, Socrates was marryed to Xantippa, and to accomplish the law, hee tooke another called Mirra, which was the daughter of the Phylosopher Aristides: and sith those two women had great quarrells and debates together, and that thereby they slaundered their Neighbours, Socrates saide vnto them: My wiues, yee see right well that my eyes are hollow, my legges are withered, my hāds A worthie saying of Socrates. are wrinckled, my head is balde, my bodie is little, and the haires are white: Why doe yee then that are so faire, stand in contention and strife for mee, that am so deformed? Though Socrates saide these wordes (as it were in ieast) yet such words were occasion, that the quarrells and strifes betweene them ceased.
The Lacedemonians (than in the time of peace and warre, were always contrary to the Athenians) obserued it for an inuiolable lawe, not that one man should marry with two wiues, but that one woman should marrie with two husbands: and the reason was, that when one Husband should goe to the warre, the other shold tarry at home. For they saide, that a man in no wise should agree to leaue his Wife alone in the common-wealth.
Plinie writing an Epistle vnto his friend Locratius, and Saint Hierome, writing to a Frier called Rusticus saith: That the Atbenians did vse to marry Bretheren with the Sisters: but they did not permitte the Auntes to marrie with their Nephewes, neither the Vnckles with their Nieces. For they sayd, that brothers and sisters to marrie together, was to marry with their semblables: but for vnckles to marry Nieces, & Aunts with Nephews, was as of fathers to daughters, and of mothers to sonnes.
Melciades which was a man of great renowme amongst the Grecians, had a sonne called Cimonius, who was marryed to his owne sister called Pinicea, and being demaunded of one why hee tooke his sister in marriage: hee answered: My sister is faire, sage, rich, The spech of Cimonius. and made to my appetite, and her Father and mine did recommend her vnto mee: and since by the commaundement of the Gods, a man ought to accomplish the behests and requests of Fathers, I haue determined (since Nature hath giuen mee her for my sister) willingly to take her for my lawfull Wife.
Dyodorus Siculus saith, that before the Egiptians receyued any Lawes, euery man had as manie Wiues as hee would: and this was at the libertie of both partyes, for as much as if she would goe, shee went liberally, and forsooke the man, and likewise hee left her when shee displeased him: For they sayde that it was vnpossible for Men and Women to liue long together, without much trouble, contentions, and brawles.
Dyodorus Siculus sayde one thing, (where hee speaketh of this matter,) which as yet I neuer read in any book, [Page 185] nor heard of the ancients past, which was that amongst the Egiptians there was no difference in Children: For they accounted them as legitimate, though they were children of slaues. For they said, that the principall doer of the generation was the Father and not the mother, and that therfore the Children which were borne among them, tooke only the flesh of the mother, but they did inherite their honour and dignitie of the part of the Father.
Iulius Caesar in his Commentaries saith, that (in Great Brittaine, now called England,) the Brittons had an vse, that one Woman was marryed vnto fiue men, the which beastlinesse is not read to haue beene in any Nation of times past: For if it bee slaunder for A beastly custome in old time. in England. one man to haue diuers Wiues, why should it not also bee a slaunderous and shamefull thing, for one woman to haue many Husbands? The noble and vertuous Women ought to bee marryed for two causes.
The first is, to the end God should giue them children, and benediction, to whom they may leaue their goods, and their memorie. The second, to the end they should liue euery one in their owne house, accompanyed and honoured with their husbands. For otherwise (I say for a truth) that the woman that is not contented and satisfied with her own proper husband, will not bee contented nor satisfied, with all men in the world.
Plutarch in his Apothegmes saith, that the Cymbres did vse to marrie with their proper and natural daughters: the which custome was taken from them by the Consull Marius, after that hee did ouercome them in Germanie, and that of them he had triumphed at Rome. For the Childe which was borne of such Marriage, was Sonne of the Daughter of one sole Father, and was Sonne and Brother of one onely Mother, and they were also Cousins, Nephews, & Brothers of one only Father and mother.
Truely such custome proceedeth rather of wilde beasts, then of reasonable creatures: For manie, or the more part of brute Beasts, (after the females haue brought forth males) within one yeare after, they doo accompany with their dammes, which brought them forth.
Strabo in the situation of the world, and Seneca in an Epistle, say: That the Lydes and the Armenians hadde a custome, to send their Daughters to the Riuers and Hauens of the Sea, to get their Marriages, selling their bodyes to straungers: so that those which would Marrie, were first forced to sell heyr virginitie.
The Romaines (which in all their affaires and businesses were more Sage and modest, then other Nations) vsed An ancient custome among the Romains. much circumspection in all their mariages: For they kept it as an ancient lawe, and vse accustomed, that euery Romaine should marrie with one woman, and no moe: For euen as to keepe two wiues among the Christians, is a great charge of conscience, so was it deemed amongst the Romaines much infamie.
Amongst the auncient and renowmed Orators of Rome, one was called Metellus Numidicus, the which one day making his Oration to the Senate, sayd these words;
Worthie Senatours, I let you vnderstand, that I haue greatly fludyed what the counsels shuld be, that I ought to giue yee touching marriage? For the counsel rashand sudden, oftentimes is not profitable. I doe not perswade you at all to marrie, neyther yet doe say that yee shall not marrie: but it is true, that if ye can liue without a woman, yee shall bee free from manie troubles. But what shall wee doe, O yea Romains? since that Nature hath made vs such, that to keepe women [Page 186] it is a great trouble: and to liue without them, it is more danger? I dare say (if in this case my opinion might bee accepted) that it should not bee euill done to resist the lust since it commeth by fits, and not to take Wiues, which are continuall troubles. These were the wordes which Metellus Numidicus spake, the which were not very acceptable, nor pleasant to the Fathers beeing in the Senate: for they would not that hee should haue spoken such wordes against Mariage. For there is no estate in this life, wherein Fortune sheweth her force more, then in this state of Matrimonie. A man may proue them in this sort, that if the fashions and vsages of the ancients were diuers, as concerning ordinance: truely there was no lesse contrarietie in theyr contracts and ceremonies.
Boccace the Florentine, in a Booke that he made of the Marriages of the auncients, reciteth manie and sundrie customs, that they vsed in making the Marriages, whereof hee telleth some, not for to follow, or maintaine them: but to reproue and condemne them. For the writers did neuer write the vices of some, but onely to make the vertues of others more cleerely to be knowne.
The Cymbres had a custome, that when they would Marrie, (after the A law among the Cymbrians. marriage was agreed vpon) hee that was made sure should pare his nayles, and send them to his wife that should bee: and she in like sort sent hers vnto him. And then when she of him, and hee of her, had receyued the nayles the one of the other, they betooke themselues Marryed for euer: and did afterwardes liue together, as man and wife.
The Theutonians had a ceremony, that the man that was sure, rounded the hayre of her to whome hee was made sure, and shee did the like vnto him: and when the one suffered the other to doe so, immediately they celebrated Marriage. The Armenians had a law, that the Bridegroom shuld pinch the right eare of the Bride, and the Bride should likewise pinche the The law of the Armenians. left eare of the Bride-groome: and then they tooke themselues marryed for euer.
The Elamites had a custome, that both parties which were made sure, pricked one the others little finger, vntill they bledde: the which bloud they did sucke naturally, & this done they were marryed. The Numidians vsed, that the Bryde-groome and the Bryde should gather together a piece of Earth, and with theyr spittle they tempered it, and therewith the one annointed the forehead of the other: so that the Marriage betweene them, was to annoynt the one and the other with a little clay. When those of Dace would be marryed, the Bride-groome and the Bryde, each one of themselues, were brought in Charryots, the one meeting the other: and when they came together, the Bryde-groome gaue a newe name to the Bride, and shee likewise to him, and from that time forwardes they liued as in lawfull Matrimonie.
When they of Hungarie would marrie, the one sent vnto the other a familiar A custome among the Hungarians god made of siluer, whom they called Lares, and when they had receyued the God of each other, the marriage was finished, and they liued as man and wife. The Siconians had a custome and lawe, that when they should marrie, the one sent to the other a shooe: and that receyued of both, they agreed to the marriage.
The Tharentines had a custome, that when they did marrie, they set themselues at the table to eate, and the one did feed the other: so that if by mishappe, the one should chance to feed himselfe, that marriage was not esteemed for constant nor good.
[Page 187] The Scythians had a custome, and they kept it as a law, that when men and women should Marrie: as nowe they touch the hands the one of the other, so did they touch with their The custom of the Scythians feete, afterwardes they set together their knees, then they touched with their hands, and then they set theyr buttocks together, and so their heads, and in the ende they embraced the one the other. All these ceremonies done, the Marriages were assured, and sufficiently confirmed: and so we might say of manie others, but to auoyde tediousnes, wee will follow our matter:
CHAP. IIII. How Princesses and great Ladyes ought to loue theyr Husbands, and that loue ought not by Coniurations and Enchauntments to be procured: but by wisedome, honestie, and vertue desired.
ALl men that desire to atchieue and obtayne anie worthie thing in this life, inuent and search manie meanes to come thervnto: for men by good prouision and circumspection compasse sundrie things, which otherwise they should lose: vnlesse they would by force take them. As in the marriages of our Christian Religion, wherein wee doe not suffer, that the man and the wife be parents, and nigh of bloud: leauing apart that the one is a man, and the other a woman: that the one is strong, and the other weake: oft times it chaunceth, that there is betweene the man and the wife more contrariety in conditions, then diuersitie in Linage: I would say therefore (for healthfull counsell, and necessarie aduise) to the great Dames, and Princesses, and to all other wiues, since they must needs eate and drinke with their husbands, that they must sleepe, treate, bee conuersant, Good counsell for all sorts of women. and talke, and finally, liue and dye with theyr Husbands, that they vse much diligēce to beare with their conditions: For to say the troth, the wife ought in all things to follow the conditions of her husband: and the husband in some things to beare with the conditions of his wife. So that shee by her patience, ought to suffer the imperfections of him, and he likewise by his wisdome ought to dissemble the importunities of her: and in such sort they ought to agree & loue together, that all those of the Common-wealth should reioyce at theyr behauiors. For marryed men, which are quarrellers and seditious persons, the Neighbours in stead of weeping and wayling, for the depriuation of their life, demaund gifts the one of the other, for bringing newes of their death. Admit that the Husband be couetous, and vnthrifty, that he be deformed in his bodie, that hee be rude in condition, base of linage, rash in his speech, in aduersities fearefull, in prosperities carelesse, in the ende being (as he is) Husband, we cannot denie, but in the house he ought to bee chiefe maister. For the which it is also necessarie, that wee giue now vnto rhe Wiues some healthfull counsell, whereby they may beare and suffer quietly such great troubles. For at this day there is no Husband so louing, nor so vertuous, in whome the wife shall not finde some euill conditions.
First of all, wiues ought to endeuor themselues to loue their husbands vnfamedly, if they desire their husbands should loue them without dissimulation: for as we see by experience, Mariage is seldome broken through pouertie, nor yet continued with riches. [Page 188] For the euill marryed folkes through debate and strife, be separated in one week, wheras by good & tru loue they are preserued al the daies of their life.
To eate drie and vnsauory meates, they vse to take salt for to amend it. I meane that the burdens of matrimonie are many, and troublesome, the which all with loue onely may be endured. For as Plato the diuine Phylosopher sayeth: One thing ought not to bee called more painefull then another for the labour we therevnto employbut for the great or smal loue that therevnto wee haue. Though some sundrie things bee troublesome and tedious, yet when with loue it is begunne, it is easily followed, and ioyfully atchieued: For that trauell is nothing noysome, where loue is the mediator.
I know right well and doe confesse, that the counsell which I giue to women is sharpe, that is: for an honest woman to loue a dissolute man, for a sage wife to loue a foolish husbād, for a vertuous wife, to loue a vitious husband. Women bound to loue their Husbands. For as daily experience sheweth, there are some men of so foolish conditions, and other women of so noble conuersation, that by reason apparent they ought to take them for Mistresses, rather then they should accept them for Husbands.
Although this, in some particular cases is true, I say and affirme, that generally, all women are bound to loue their Husbands, since that willingly, and not by compulsion they were not enforced to take them: For in like manner, if the Marryage pleased not the Woman, shee hath not so much cause to complaine of her Husband, for asking her: as she hath reason to complaine of her owne selfe, that accepted him. For the misfortunes that by our owne follie doe chaunce, although we haue cause to lament them, wee ought also to haue reason to dissemble them. Bee the man neuer so wilde and euil brought vp, it is impossible, if the wife loue him, but he must needs loue her againe. And though perchaunce hee cannot force his euill conditions to loue her, yet at the least he shall haue no occasion to hate her. The which ought not to bee little esteemed: For there are many wiues not onely of the Plebeians, but also of the noble Dames, that could be content to forgiue their Husbands all the pleasures they should doe them, and also all the loue that they ought to shewe: if they would refraine theyr Tongues, from speaking iniurious wordes, and keepe their hands from dealing lothsome stripes. We haue many notable examples in hystories, of mane Noble and stoute Ladyes (as well Greekes as Romaines:) which after The tongue cause of debate. they were marryed, had so great faithfulnes, and bare such loyaltie to their husbands, that they not onely followed them in their trauells, but also deliuered them in their dangers.
Plutarch in the booke of the noble women, declareth, that the Lacedemonians, keeping many Nobles of the Athenians prisoners (which at that time were their cruell & mortall enemies) and being iudged to die, their wiues concluded to goe to the prison where they lay, and in the end they obtained The loue of women towards theyr Husbands. of the Gayler therof, that they might goe in, and talke with their husbands: for indeed the teares were manie, that were shed, and the gifts were not few which vnto them were offered. The Wiues therfore entring into the prison, did not onely change their apparell with their Husbands, but also the liberty of their persons: for they went out as women, & the women in their steads, remained there as men. And when they brought out these Innocent wiues from prison, to execute iustice, supposing they were men, the Lacedemonians vnderstāding the faith fulnes of the women, determiued that [Page 189] they should not onely bee pardoned, but also that they should bee greatly rewarded and honored, for the good examples of other women to whom they were marryed. The ancient and great renowmed Panthea, when newes was brought her that her husband was dead in battaile, shee her owne selfe determined to goe seeke him out, with hope, that as yet he was not vtterly dead; and finding him dead, with the bloud of him she washed all her body, and likewise her face, strikeing with a knife her selfe to the heart, and imbracing her husband, she yeelded vp the ghost, and so together they were carried to the graue. Porcia, The praise of Women. the daughter of Marcus Porcia the great, when shee heard that her husband Brutus was taken and slaine, she felt for that newes so great sorrow, that all her friends seeing her take the matter so grieuously, hid from her all Iron wherewith shee might kill her selfe: and did labour to keep and preserue her from danger, wherein shee might fall and shorten her life. For she was so excellent a Romane, and so necessary to the Common-wealth, that if they had lamented the death of Brutus her husband, with teares of their eyes, they ought to bewaile the losse of his wife Porcia, with drops of bloud in their hearts. Porcia therefore feeling in her selfe a wofull and afflicted heart, for the death of her entirely beloued husband, to declare that that which shee did was nor fayned, nor for to please the people, but to satisfie her great and maruellous loue: since shee found neyther sword nor knife to kill her selfe, nor cord to hang her selfe, neither well to drowne her in, she went to the fire, and with as great pleasure did eate the hot fiery coales, as an other would haue eaten any delicate meates. We may say that such kinde of death was very strange and new, which the Romane found to encrease, augment, and manifest her loue: Yet wee cannot deny, but that shee wanne to the posteritie of her name a perpetuall memorie: For as a Noble Dame she would quench with coales of fire her burning heart, that enflamed was with fiery brands of loue. As Diodorus Seculus sayth, it was a law and custome amongst the Lidians, The Law amongst the Lidians to marry themselues with many wiues: and when by chance their husbands dyed, the wiues which they had, met together, and fought in some plaine place. And the women which remained onely aliue, and of the conflict had the victory, cast themselues into the graue of their husband: so that those women then fought for to dye, as men now fight for to liue.
CHAP. V. Of the reuenge a woman of Greece tooke of him that had killed her husband, in hope to haue her in marriage.
PLutarch in the Booke that he made of the Noble and worthy Women, declareth a thing worthy of rchearsall, and to be had in memory.
In the Citie of Galacia were two renowmed Citizens, whose names were Sinatus and Sinoris, which were by bloud Cousins, and in familiaritie friends: and for the loue of a Greekes daughter, being very Noble, beautifull, and exceeding gracious, they both striued to haue her in marriage: and for to attaine to their desires, they both serued her, they both followed her, they both loued her, and for her, both of them desired to dye. For the dart of loue is as a stroke with a clod of earth, the which being throwne amongst a company, doth hurt the [Page 190] one, and blinde the others. And as the fatal destinies had ordained it: Sinatus serued this Lady called Camma in [...]uch sort, that in the end he obtained her in marriage for his lawfull wife: which thing when Sinoris perceiued, he was ashamed of his doings, and was also wounded in his hart. For he lost not onely that, which of so long time he had sought, loued, and serued: but also the hope to attaine to that, which chiefly in his life he desired. Sinatus therefore seeing that his wife Camma was noble, meeke, gratious, faire, and louing, and that in all things shee was comely and well taught: decreed to offer her to the Goddesse Diana, to the end that shee would preserue her from perill, and keepe her from infamie. Truly we cā not reproue the knight Sinatus for that hee did, nor wee ought to note him for rash in his councell: for hee sawe that his wife was very faire, and therefore much desired. For with great difficultie that is kept, which of many is desired. Though Camma was The loue of Sinoris & Comma now maryed and that shee was in the protection of the goddesse Diana: yet notwithstanding her olde friend Sinoris died for her sake, and by all means possible he serued her, continually he importuned her, dayly he followed her, and hourely he required her. And all this he did, vpon certaine hope he had, that such diligent seruice should suffice to make her change her sacred minde: and as shee had chosen Sinatus for her husbande openly, so hee thought she should take him for her friende secretly. For many women are as men without tast through sicknes, the which eate more of that that is hurtfull and forbiddē: then of that which is healthsome, and commaunded. Not without a cause Camma was greatly renowmed throughout al Galatia for her beauty: and much more amonge the vertuous esteemed for her honestie. The which euidently in this was seene, that after she was married, Sinoris could neuer cause her to receiue any Iewell, How good women ought to behaue themselues. or other gift, nor that she would hear him speake any word, nor that shee would shew her selfe in the window, eyther to him, or to any other, to the end to bee seene in the face. For it is not sufficient for Ladyes to bee pure good; but also to giue no occasion for men to iudge (that if they durst) they would be euill. As it is true indeede, that the heart which is entangled with loue, dare boldly aduenture himselfe in many kinde of dangers to accomplish that which he desired: so Sinoris seeing that with fayre words he could not flatter her, nor with any gifts winne her, determined to kill Sinatus her husband, vpon hope, that when she should be widdow, he might easily obtaine her in matrimony. For he thought, although Camma was not euill, it was not for that she wanted desire to doe it, but because she had no commodious place to accomplish it. And, to be short, Sinoris would needes execute and bring to effect his deuilish and damnable entent: so that soone after hee vilely slew his said companion Sinatus. After whose death the Noble Lady Camma was of Sinoris greatly desired, and by his Parents much importuned, that she would condiscend to take and marry him, and that she would forgiue him the death of her husband Sinatus, which then was buried. And as she was in all her doings such a Princely woman, she imagined with her selfe, that vnper the pretence of marriage, she might haue oportunitie to accomplish her desires: wherfore shee answered vnto his Parents, that shee did accept their counsell; and said to Sinoris, that she did chuse him for her husband, speaking these words more for to comfort him, then [Page 191] with intent to pardon him. And as amongst those of Galatia there was a custome, that the new maried folkes should eate together in one dishe, and drinke in one cup: the day that the mariage was celebrated, Cāma determined to prepare a cup with poyson, and alsso a lute, wherewith shee began to play, and sing with her prober voyce before the Goddesse Diana in this manner.
ANd when the prayer was ended, that this fayre and vertuous Camma The death of Sinoris and Camma. made, shee dranke, and gaue to drinke to Sinoris of this cuppe of poyson, who thought to drinke no other but good wine and water: and the case was such, that he died at noone daies, and she likewise in the euening after. And truely, her death of all Greece, with as great sorrow, was lamented: as her life of all men was desired.
Princesses and great Ladyes may most euidently perceiue by the examples heerein contayned, how honest and Honourable it is for them to loue and endeauour themselues to be beloued of their husbands: and that not onely in their life, but also after their death: For, the wife to serue her husband in his life, seemeth ofttimes to proceede of feare: but to loue and honour him in his graue, proceedeth of loue. Princesses and great Ladies ought not to do that which many other women of the cōmon people do, that is to say, to seeke some drinkes, and inuent some shamefull sorceries to be beloued of their husbands: for albeit it is a great burden of conscience, and lacke of shame in like manner to vse such superstitions; yet it should be a thing too vniust, and very slaunderous, that for to be beloued of their husbands, they should procure to be hated of God. Truely, to loue, to serue, and content God, it is not hurtful to the woman, for that she should bee the better beloued of her husband: but yet God hath suffered, and doth permit oftimes, that the women being feeble, deformed, poore, and negligent, should bee better beloued of their husbands, then the diligent, fayre and rich. And this is not for the seruices they doe to their husbands, but for the good intention they haue to serue and loue GOD, which sheweth them this speciall fauour: for otherwise God doth not suffer, that he being with her displeased, she should liue with her husband contented. If womē would take this counsel that I giue them in this case, I will teach them furthermore a notable enchauntment, to obtayne the loue of their husbands, which is, that they bee quiet, meeke, patient, solitary, and honest, with which fine [Page 194] herbes they may make a confection, the which neither seene nor tasted of Good coū sell for women. their husbands, shall not onely cause them to be beloued, but also honoured: For women ought to know, that for their beautie they are desired; but for their vertue only they are beloued.
CHAP. VI. That Princesses and great Ladyes ought to be obedient to their Husbands; and that it is a great shame to the Husband that his wife should command him.
MAny ancient Historiographers trauailed greatly, & consumed long time in writng, to declare what authoritie the man ought to haue ouer the woman, and what seruitude the woman oweth to the man: and some, for to aduance the dignitie of the man, and others to excuse the frailtie of the woman, alleadged such vaine things, that it had beene more honour for them not to haue written at all, then in such sort as they did: for it is not possible but the Writers should erre, which write not as reason teacheth, but rather as their fantasie leadeth.
Those that defend the frailtie of the woman sayd, that the woman hath a body as a man, she hath a soule as a man, shee hath reason as a man, dyeth as a man, and was as necessary for generation as man, she liueth as a man, and therefore they thought it not meete that shee should bee more subiect to man, then man to her: for it is not reason that that which nature hath made free, should by any lawes of man be made bond. They said furthermore, that God created not the creatures, but to augment the generation of mankinde, and that in this case the woman was more necessarie then the man: for the man engendereth without paine or trauaile, but the woman is deliuered with perill and danger, and with paine and trauaile nourisheth vp the childe. Wherefore it seemeth great vnkindnesse and crueltie, The great dangers women sustaine. that the women (which are deliuered with perill and danger of their liues, and bring vp their children with labour and toyle of their bodies) should bee vsed of their husbands as slaues.
They sayd further, that men are those that curse, that moue seditions, that make warres, that maintaine enmitie, that weare weapons, that shed mans bloud, and commit sundry other mischiefes, which the women do not: but in stead of killing men, shedding bloud, and other notorious euils, that men do, they imploy themselues to encrease men. And since it is so, then women, rather then men, ought to haue dominion and command in the Common-wealth: for women increase the Cōmon-wealth, and men diminish it: for neyther diuine nor humane law commaundeth, that the foolish man should bee free, and gouerne: and that the wise woman should bee bond, and serue.
Those of Achaia affirmed this opinion, and groundeth themselues vpon The custome of the Achaians. this reason, and obserued it as a custome, That the husbands should obey, and the wiues commaund. And so they did, as Plutarch sayth in the Booke of Consolation: for the husband swept & made cleane the house, made the bed, washed the buck, couered the table, dressed the dinner, and went for water: And of the contrary part, his wife gouerned the goods, answered the affayres, kept the money; and if shee were angry, shee gaue him not onely foule words, [Page 195] but also oftimes laid her hands on him to reuenge her anger. And heereof came this ancient Prouerb, the which of many is read, and of few vnderstood: that is to say, Vita Achaiae; The life of an Achaian. When in Rome the husband suffered to be ruled and commanded of his wife, the neighbours would say vnto him in manner of a reproach, Vita Achaia: which is as much as if a man would say, Goe, goe as thou art, since thou liuest after the law of Achaia, where men haue so little discretion, that they suffer themselues to bee gouerned (bee it well or euill) of their Wiues, and that euery woman commandeth her Husband.
Plinie, in an Epistle that hee wrote, reprooued greatly his friend Fabatus, for that hee kept in his house a wife, the which in all his doings ruled and commanded him: wherein hee told him, that hee durst doe nothing without her commaundement. And to make the matter to seeme more heynous, in the latter ende of his Epistle he sayd these words, Me valde poenitet quod tu solus Rome polles vita Achaia: which is, It grieueth mee much, that thou alone in Rome shouldest leade the life of one of Achaia.
Iulius Capitolinus saith, that Anthonius Caracalla, being in loue with a faire Lady of Persia, and seeing that he could not enioy her, nor obtayne his desire, promised to marrie her according to the law of Achaia: and truly shee shewed her selfe more wise in her answere, then hee did in his demand, telling him, that shee would not, nor might not marry; for because shee had promised her selfe to the goddesse Vesta, and that she had rather be a seruant of the gods, then a Mistresse of men. The Parthes had The Law of the Parthians. a law contrary to them, and likewise those of Thrace, the which so little esteemed women, that their husbands vsed them none otherwise then like seruants. And in this case men had so great liberty, or to say better, lightnesse, that after a woman had borne and brought foorth twelue children, the children remained in the house, and the husbands sold their wiues to them that would giue most, or else they changed them for others that were more young.
And the children agreed to the selling of their owne mother, to the intent that their father might refresh himselfe with another that was more young: and the olde and barren woman, should eyther be buried quicke, or else serue as a slaue.
Dionisius Halicarnaseus saith, that the Lides had a law, and the Numiaians in like manner, that the woman The Law of the Lideans should command things without the house, and the man should prouide for those that were within: but according to my poore iudgement, I cannot tell how this law was kept, nor how they could fulfill it; for by reason, the wife should not goe out of the house but very little: and therefore me thinks that they ought not to command any thing abroad, nor the husband should enter into an other mans house, for to commaund there.
Licurgus in the lawes that hee gaue to the Lacedemonians saith, that the husbands should prouide abroad, see all things necessary for the house: and that the wiues should keepe and dispose them within: So that this good Philosopher deuided the trauaile betweene the man and the woman: but yet notwithstanding hee reserued the rule and authoritie to the man: For to say the truth, it is a monstrons thing that the wife should command the husband in his house.
Vnder our Christian Religion there is neyther Diuine, nor humaine Lawes, but will preferre Man aboue all other thinges: and [Page 196] though some Philosophers would dispute to the contrary, and that many men would haue followed them, yet mee thinkes that a man should not praise nor commend them for their opinions: for there can bee nothing more vaine nor light, then by mans law to giue that authoritie to woman, which by nature is denyed her.
We see by experience, that women Women weake of nature. of nature are all weake, fraile, fearefull, and tender: and finally, in matters of weight not very wise. Then if matters of gouernment require not onely science and experience, but also strength and courage to enterprise doubtfull things, wisedome for to know them, force to execute them, diligence for to follow them, patience for to suffer them, meanes to endure them: and aboue all, great strength and hope to compasse them: why then will they take from man the gouernment, in whom all these things abound, and giue it to the woman, in whome all these things doe want? The end why I speake these thinges before, is to require, to counsell, to admonish, and to perswade Princcsses and great Ladies, that they thinke it spoken (if they will be happy in marriage) to the end they should be obedient to their husbands: for speaking the truth, in that house, where the wife commaundeth the husband, we may call her a masculine woman, and him a feminine man.
Many women are deceiued, in thinking, that in commanding their husbands they liue more honourably, and be better esteemed: but truely it is not so; for all those that see, and perceiue it, accounteth the woman for vaine, and the man in like manner for foolish The foolish opinion of some women..
I know, and can tell right well, that there are some husbands so excessiue in spending, and so wanton in liuing, that it were not onely good that their wiues should rule thē, but also chastise them: but in the end, I say, that notwithstanding all this, it is better, and more tollerable, that all the goods be lost, then betweene them any malice, hate or discention should rise. If a womans children dye, shee may bring foorth others: if she lose her goods, she may get them agayne: if her seruants goe from her shee may finde others: if she see her selfe sad, GOD may comfort her: if she be sicke, she may be healed: but if shee bee at debate with her husband, I cannot tell what she shall doe: for the wife that forsaketh the friendshippe of her husband, giueth to all men occasion to speake of her folly.
Sith women naturally are all iealous, and that of iealousie proceedeth suspition, I counsell them, if they will not that their husbands commit a fault, that they doe not anger nor chafe them; for if in gage she haue his heart, no other woman shall haue his body, from that which hee would not abstaine for conscience, he will restraine for shame.
Oftentimes the husbands come home chafed, troubled, wrathfull, angry, and vexed, and then women ought to take heede that they ouerthwart them not; for if they doe, it cannot bee otherwise, but that they shall haue eyther euill words with his tongue, or else suffer sore blowes with his fists. Truely it is not meete, neither in any case profitable, that Princesses and great Dames should ouerthwart their husbands with froward words, nor that they should vse to striue against them; but rather that the wise in all cases should be obedient and louing to her husband: for it may happen, & daily it doth chance, that they begin to argue in iest, and afterward they ende in earnest. The woman which is sage, wise, & vertuous, ought to weigh with her selfe, that eyther [Page 197] her Husband hath occasion so to taunte her, or else peraduenture hee doeth it of a will. I say that in this case if hee haue occasion, shee ought to suffer and endure him: if he doth it of will, she ought to dissemble with him. For otherwise, it might so take her in the head, that shee would burden him with many euill wordes: so that hee beginning, then the debate should remaine excused, and shee being without fault at the beginning, might in the end be condemned.
There is nothing wherein a Woman sheweth her, wisdome more then to endure a rashe Husband. A Woman in nothing sheweth her sagenes more, then to dissemble with a foolish Husband. Her honestie in nothing can bee shewed more, then in suffering a wanton Husband. Shee can shewe her worthinesse in nothing so much, as in bearing with an vnworthie Husband. I meane, though shee vnderstood that her husband hath little, that he knoweth little, and that he were worth little: yet shee should make men belieue that he hath much, that he knoweth enough, and can do A propertie of a wise & discreete Husband. much. For all the honour which she shall so giue to her Husband, shall wholly againe redounde on her selfe.
It is an euill thing (mee thinketh) that Women should be so bolde to speake against their Husbands: For they cannot speake euill of them, but that they must witnesse dishonour of themselues. For if her Husband be a drunkard, they will say that shee is a drunkard wife: and if he be a foole, then she is the wife of a Foole, and what more? When the Husband shall come to amend, and to moderate himselfe, the woman in the ende shalbe blamed. For if she burden him with euill wordes, hee acquiteth her with sharpe stripes. But if shee toucheth his honour, it may chaunce he taketh away her life. If perhaps the Husband should commaund the wife any vniust thing, I would be of opinion that she should obey him, but not resist him: and after that his raging furie were past, and his choller qualilified, then shee might say vnto him, that he was very rash to command, & she very wise to obey. For if shee be quicke of tongue to answere to euery worde that hee shall speake, without doubt they wil not liue one day in cō cord: Reading therefore that which I haue read, hearing that which I haue hearde, and hauing seene also that I haue seene, I would counsell women that they should not presume to commaund Good counsell for Women. their Husbands: and I would admonish Husbands that they would not suffer their Wiues to rule them; For in doing the contrarie, it is none otherwise, then to eate with the feete, and trauel with the hands, to go with the fingers, and to feede themselues with their toes.
My minde is not heere to speake against the womē, nor against the Princesses and great Ladies, which of their patrimonie and heritage possesse manie Townes and Citties: for to such I wil not take away the seruices, which are due vnto them by their Subiects, but I doe perswade them to the obedience which they ought to beare to theyr Husbandes. It is not maruell, though that women of meane estate haue sometimes quarrelled with their Husbands: For they haue small Riches to loose, and lesse honour to aduenture, then the Princesses and great Dames haue, the which since they do aduenture to commaund manie: why wil not they humble themselues to obey one? speaking with due reuerēce.
It is for aboundance of follie, and want of wisedome, that a Woman should haue presumption to gouerne a whole Realm, and that she hath not grace to obey one Husband.
Seneca in a Tragedie, saieth thus: [Page 198] that in the time of the warre of Mithridates, it chanced in Rome that the Consulls sent to the olde Knightes, and commanded that they should all be in a readinesse to go with Silla the The saying of [...]. Consull into the warres. And it happened, that when they came into ones house in Rome to publish the Edict, to warne him to bee ready, they found not the husband, but the wife, who made answere, and sayd, That her husband ought not, nor could not goe to the warres; and though hee would, hee should not, neither would see giue him licence: for hee was an old and ancient Knight, and therefore hee ought to be exempted from the warres.
With this answer, those that heard it were greatly abashed, and the whole Senate no lesse offended: wherefore they commaunded, that the husband should bee banished Rome, and the wife to bee carryed to the Prison Mamortine, not for that he excused himselfe for going to the warres: but because she commanded her husband, and because he suffered himselfe to be commanded of her.
The Senate did this, to that end, that from that time forwards no woman should presume or contend with her husband: and that no husband should giue his wife any occasion to be bold with him.
CHAP. VII. That Women, and especially Princesses and great Ladyes, should be very circumspect in going abroad out of their houses, and that through the resort of them that commeth to their houses, they bee not euill spokenof.
AMong all the counsels that may or ought to be giuen to Princesses and great Ladies, this is the first; that they do what they can to haue rest in their houses, and that they goe not as strayes to the mansions of other men: for if such Ladyes are good, they get much reputation; and if perchance they bee euill, they take from men all occasion. Whether the husband be present or absent, it is a most necessary and honest thing that the wife be for the most part in the house: for by this meanes the household shal be well gouerned, and from the heart of the husband shall bee withdrawne all kinde of suspitions.
Sithens the office of the husband is to gather goods and riches, and The office of the Husband, and dutie of the wife. the office of a wife to keepe and preserue them: the houre that she goeth out of the house, she ought to thinke that her Maydens will stray abroad, the Children will runne out to play, the Varlats and Seruants will bee out of order, the Neighbours wil take occasions to speake euill, and that which is worste of all, some will steale the goods out of the house, and the others will speake euill of the reeowne of the wife.
Oh, God giueth a goodly gift and grace to that man which hath such & so good a wife, that of her own nature loueth to keepe her selfe within the house. And truely, I say, that such a one doeth excuse many griefes, and saueth much mony: for she spendeth not the goods in Apparel, nor giueth occasion to men to iudge euill of her person. The greatest debate that is betweene man and wife is, for that hee desireth to get and keepe his goods to bring vp his children, and to maintayne his familie: and on the other part, that she desireth to spend all vpon apparrell: for women in this case are so curious in louing of themselues, that they would abstaine from meates that should maintaine their life, onely to buy a new Gowne to set out their pride. Women naturally do [Page 199] loue to keepe, and will not spend any thing, except it be in apparrell: for euery houre (that is in the day and the night) they desire to haue a new Gowne to change.
My intention is not to speake of Apparrell only, but to perswade Princesses and great Ladyes, that they would keepe themselues in their houses; and in so doing, they should excuse these superfluous wastes and expences: for her neighbour seeing her better apparrelled then shee is, looketh vpon her husband, as she were a Lyon. It chanceth oftentimes (I would to God I had no cause to speake it) that if by chaunce there commeth any great or solemne Feast or Marriage, shee will neuer looke louingly on his face, before he hath giuen her a newe gowne to her backe: and when the poore Gentleman hath no money to pay, of necessitie hee must runne in credite.
And when the vanity of the woman is past, then the time of payment draweth neere, and they come to arrest all his goods: so that they haue cause to lament one whole yeare, for that which they haue spent in one houre.
VVomen seldome contend for that one is fairer, more nobler of linage, better married, or more vertuous then another: but only that another goeth better apparelled then shee. For touching apparell, there is no woman can endure that another meaner woman should make comparison with her, nor that in like manner her equall should excell her.
Lycurgus in the lawes that he gaue The law of Lycurgus. to the Lacedemonians, commaunded that their Wiues should not goe out of their houses, but at diuers solemne Feasts in the yeare. For he saide, that the women ought to be making their prayers in the Temples to the Gods, or else in their houses, bringing vppe their children. For it is not honest nor cōmendable, that the wife should passe her time abroade, trotting from street to streete, as common women. I say that the Princesses and great Ladyes are much more bound to keepe themselues at home in their Houses, then other women of meaner degree: and without a cause I speak it not, for thereby they shall get them more reputation. For there is no vertue whereby the woman winneth more reputation in the Common-wealth, then alwaies to be seen resident in her house. I say also that a Wife ought the most part of her time to keepe her house, because she hath lesse occasion then others haue to goe abrode. For if the poore wife (the Plebian) goe out of her house, shee goeth for no other cause but for to seeke meat: but if the rich and Noble-woman goeth out of her house, it is for nothing but to take her pleasure.
Let not Princesses maruell, nor let not great Ladyes wonder, if they dispose their feete to trotte, and occupie their eyes to beholde, though their enemyes and neighbours with cankered hearts doe iudge them, and with euill tongues defame them: For the fond deedes that women do, maketh men to be rash of iudgement. I like it well that the husbāds shold loue their wiues, that they shold comfort them, and make much of them, and that they should put their trust in them: but I doe discommend that the women should goe gadding abroade in visitation, from house to house, and that their husbands dare not gaine say The propertie of good Houswifes. them. For admit that they be good in theyr persons, yet in this doing, they giue occasion for men to esteem them vaine and light.
Seneca saieth in an Epistle, that the great Romane Cato the Censor ordained that no woman should go out of her house being alone, and if perhaps it were in the night, shee should not goe alone without company, and that [Page 200] the companie should not bee such as she would chose, but such as her Husband or Parent would assigne: So that with the same countenance wee behold now a common woman, with the selfe same lookes then we behelde her that went out of her house. What inconuenience cō meth by gadding abroad
Noble Ladyes (which loue theyr honor) ought greatly to consider and weigh the manie inconueniences that ensue by often gadding abroad: For they spend much to Apparrell them, they lose much precious time in trimming them, they keepe gentlewomen to wayte vpon them, they will striue with theyr Husbandes to goe, and whiles shee is out of the dores, the house shall be euill kept, and all the enemyes, and friendes thereby haue matter wherevpon to talke.
Finally I say, that the woman that goeth out of her house, doeth not weigh the losse of her honor so much as she doth the pleasure shee taketh abroad. Presuming (as I presume) to write with grauitie, I say, that I am ashamed to speake it, yet for all that I will not refraine to write of the walkes of these Dames that visite and desire to be visited: amongst whom there is moued oftentimes such vaine communication, that it causeth their Husbands to become enemyes: and on the other part they remember more the Gossipings that they haue to goe vnto, then the heauie burden of their sinnes, which they ought to lament.
CHAP. VIII. Of the commodities and discommodities which follow Princesses & great Ladyes that go abroad to visite, or abide in the house.
LVcretia by the consent of all, was counted the chiefest of all other Matrones of Rome, and not for that that she was more faire, more wise, of greater parentage, or more noble, but because shee did withdrawe her selfe from companie, and abode solitarie: The commendations of Lucretia. For shee was such a one, that in the heroycall vertues there could bee nothing more desired: nor in womens weaknes there was nothing in her to be amended.
The hystorie of the chaste Lucretia is euident in Titus Liuius, that when the husbands of diuers Romanes came home from the warres to theyr houses, they found their wiues in such fort that some were gaping out at the windowes, others deuising vainly at their doores, others in the Fieldes wandering, others in their gardens banquetting, others in the market being, and others in the streetes, here and there gadding: but the famous Lucretia was found in her house alone, weauing of silke: So that shee flying companie, for that she would not be seene, made her selfe in her Honour and renowme better to be knowne.
I will giue another counsell to Princesses & great Ladies, the which as I am willing to giue, so I wish they would be as desirous to receiue, that is to say, if they will bee esteemed and counted for honest women, that they must keep themselues from euil company: for though the stinking carrion doth no harme, because wee eate it not; yet the vnsauory sent thereof annoyeth vs by smelling. The honour of women is so delicate a thing, that if we giue them licence to go abroad to visite women, wee must also giue them leaue to be visited of men: for, that one Dame should visite another, it seemeth much charitie; that men should visite women, I cannot but thinke it much dishonestie. In the presence of their husbands and neere kinsfolks, they may be visited and talked withall, and this is to bee vnderstood of approoued and honest persons; [Page 201] Notwithstanding I say, if the Husband be not at home, I would it should bee counted Sacriledge, if any man passe the threshold of the doore to visite the wife.
Plutarch saith in the booke of the prayses of Women, that the wiues of the Numidians, when their Husbands were gone out of theyr houses, kept The praises of the wiues of Numidia their Gates shutte, and locked themselues in their houses: and they had a Lawe, that whatsoeuer hee were that knocked at the dore being shut, without calling, hee should haue his right hand cut off.
Cicero in the booke of his Lawes saieth: That amongst the Romanes, there was an ancient Law, and much vsed: that if perchaunce any woman did owe any Money to any man, and that the Husband (beeing the debter) were out of his house, the Creditour should not aske the wife the debt, because that vnder the colour of recouering the goods, hee should not dishonour her in her fame.
I would say therefore, that if the Creditour was not permitted in Rome to recouer his goods, for that the wife was not of her husband accompanied, much lesse they would giue licence to visite a Woman alone. For it were more reason that the creditor should enter, for to recouer his goods, then thou shouldest enter onely for thy pastime.
The diuine Plato in the books of the Common-wealth saith, and by profound reasons perswadeth the Wiues of Greece, that they haue no secrete Friends, but that euery one keepe this saying in memorie, for a principle: That the Woman ought not to haue any other Friend then her Husband. For women ought not to haue licence to make Friends, nor conditions to make enemies. Princesses and great Dames ought to consider, that euery one of them giueth their bodyes, their goods, and their liberty to their Husbands.
Then since it is so I say, that with the liberty, she ought also to giue him her will. For it little auaileth the man and the wife that their goods be common, if their wills be priuate. For to the ende that God be serued, and the people edified, both ought in one house to abide at one Table together to eate, in one Bed to sleepe, and besides this, they both ought one thing to loue. For if the man and the wife in loue doe differ, in their liues they shall neuer be quiet.
I admonish, desire, and counsell all all women, if they wil be wel married; Where loue wanteth, discord resteth. that they think it good, that their husbands will, that they praise all that hee praiseth, that they proue all that hee proueth, that they content themselues with that wherewith their husbands are contented, and aboue all, that they loue no more then their husbands shall loue: For otherwise it might be that the wife should set her eyes vpon one, and the Husband ingage his heart to another.
Plutarche in the booke of his pollitikes, saith: That a woman after shee is marryed, hath nothing proper: For the day that shee contracteth Marriage, shee maketh her Husband the only Lord of her goods, her libertie, and of her person.
So that if the wife willeth any other thing, then that which her Husband willeth, if shee would loue any other thing then that her Husband loueth, we will not call her a true-louer, but an open theefe: for thieues doe not so much harme to robbe the husband of his mony, as the wife doth in withdrawing from him her heart.
If the woman will liue in peace with her Husband, shee ought to obserue whervnto he is inclined: for so much A propertie of a good woman. as if hee be merrie, shee ought to reioyce, and if he be sad, shee must temper herselfe: if he be couetous, shee should keepe: if hee be Prodigall, [Page 202] she should spend: if he be vnpatient, she should dissemble. For the Woman which is wise and sage, if shee cannot as she would, she ought to wil what shee may. VVell, whether the Husband bes euill inclined, or in his conditions well mannered, I sweare he cannot suffer that his wife should haue any other louers: For though the man be of a meane stocke, he had rather alwayes that his VVife should loue him alone, then the best of the nobilitie in the towne.
One thing I cannot dissemble, because I see that God is therwith offended. Which is, that maine Ladyes make their excuses throgh sicknes, because they wold not passe once in the weeke come to heare Seruice, and yet wee see them busie daylie, trotting about to visite their Friendes: and the worst of all is, that in the morning for colde they will not rise, to go the Churches, and yet afterwardes in the heate of the day, they goe a gadding from house to house, whereas they are oftentimes vntill night.
I would that the Ladies would but consider with themselues, before they goe out of their houses on visitation, to what end they goe abroad: And if perchaunce they goe abroade to be looked on? let them know for a suretie, that there be fewe that will praise their beautie, but there be manie that will discommend their gadding.
And wherefore doe these Dames assemble together? for some graue matter I warrant you: Shall I tell ye; It is eyther to banquette with some daintie dishes, to talke of theyr Petigrees, to deuise of their Husbands, to see who hath the best Gowne, to note who is euill attired, to flatter the faire, to laugh to scorne the Foule, to murmure at their Neighbours, and that which is the worste of all, that euen they themselues which speake euill of them that are absent, doe gnawe the one the other with enuie.
Seldom times it chaunceth that the Dames chide not with theyr Husbands, after that in this sort they haue bene togither: for so much as the one noteth the euill Apparell, the other babbling, they note the one to bee a Foole, and the other to be simple, so The quality of naughty Housewiues. that it seemeth not that they are meete to visite the one the other: but to look, and accuse the one the other.
It is a strange thing for the sage woman to thinke that sheee should take pleasure abroade, since shee hath her Husband at home, to whom she may talke: and hath her children to learne, her Daughters to teach, her Familie to order, and her goods to gouerne: shee hath her house to keepe, and her Parents whome shee ought to please: then since shee hath within her house such pastime, why do they accept the companie of straunge men?
That Marryed women should haue priuate friends, and loue to be visited: it followeth oftentimes that GOD is offended, the Husband iniuried, and the people slaundered: and the woman that is married, taketh little profite, and it hindereth the marriage of her that is to marrie. For in such a case although some desire her for her Riches, yet moe will forsake her for her euill fame.
CHAP. IX. That Women great with childe, specially the Princesses and great Ladyes ought to be very circumspect, for the danger of the creatures, wherein is shewed many misfortunes happened to Women with childe in the olde time, for suffering them to haue their wills,
ONe of the most necessary things for him that taketh in hand anie great iourney, ouer any dangerous [Page 203] Count eyes is, that at the beginning he ought to learne the way which he vndertaketh to goe: For it is a thing no lesse troublesome, then perillous, that when hee should come to rest, of necessitie hee should be enforced to trauell.
None can denie, but that mans life is a long and tedious iourney: the which beginneth at our birth, and endeth at our death; For in the end to haue a long or short life, is none other, but to come sooner or later to the graue. The chiefest folly of all (in mine opinion) is this, that some in their owne conceits thinke they haue counsell enough for others, and to all others it seemeth that they want for The Follie of man. themselues. For of right he may be called a foole, that condemneth all others for Fooles: and aduaunceth himselfe to be wise. Euery man ought to let his neighbour liue in peace, and though he doe esteeme himselfe to be wise, yet hee ought not to thinke his neighbour a Foole: for there is none so wise, but that he may occupie it all. For we neuer yet saw any man so wise of himselfe, but that hee needed the counsel of an other. And if this want be in those that be very olde, truely it is much more in them that be young: whose flesh is not drie, but greene, the bloud not colde, but hote, no deadly heate, but very liuely, the beastial motions not mortified, but quickened, and heereof ensueth, that young men loue their owne rash aduise and opinions, and despise the graue counsells of others.
When the Trees are tender, they binde them together, because they may grow right, they bridle the horse when as yet they are but coltes, to the end they may be easie hereafter to the bridle. They take the Hawkes in the nest, to make them more familiar: and when the beasts are litle, they take thē to teache them. I meane that a man ought to instruct his children, to the ende they may grow to liue well hereafter. I admonish, and tell the Mothers that haue Daughters, that there is no remedie to reforme the euill inclinatiō of their childrē, but to teach them, and to bring them vp well in their youth: For there is no wound but is dangerous if in time the plaster be not layde therevnto.
Returning now to our purpose, since How the man childe ought to be brought vp. that in all thinges there is order and measure: We will declare presently how the Male Childe ought to bee taught: and first of all we will treate, how a man ought to prouide whē the infant is begotten, and when as yet it is aliue in the Mothers wombe: To the intent Princesses and great Ladyes should liue very circumspectly, when they know they are conceyued with childe.
I should bee excused to speake of this matter, since it is not my profession, and that as yet I was neuer marryed, but by that I haue read of some, and by that I haue heard of others, I will and dare be so bolde to say one word. For the Sage oft times giueth better account of that he hath read, then the simple doth of that hee hath proued. This thing seemeth to bee true, betweene the Physitian and the Patient: For where the patient suffereth the euill, hee oft times demaundeth the physitian what his sicknes is, and where it holdeth him, and what it is called, and what remedie there is for his disease: So the Physitian knoweth more by his science, then the patient doth by his experience.
A man ought not to denie, that the women and in especially great Ladies know not by experiēce, how they are altered when they are quicke, and the great paines they suffer when they are deliuered: wee could not denie but that there is great danger in the one, and great perill in the other, but they [Page 204] shall neuer know frō whence all commeth, and frō whence all proceedeth, and what remedie is necessarie. For there are manie which complaine of robberyes, but yet they knowe not what the thieues are that haue robbed them. First, according to my iudgement & opinion, that which the woman quicke with childe ought to doe is, that they go softly and quietly, and that they eschue running, eyther in comming or going: for though she little esteem the health of her person, yet shee ought greatly to regarde the life of the creature. The more precious the liquor is, and the more weaker the vessell is which containeth it: so much the more they ought to feare the danger, lest the liquor shead, and How womē ought to carry themselues in the time they goe with childe. the vessell breake. I meane, that the complexion of Women (beeing with Childe) is very delicate, and that the soule of the creature is more pretious: and therefore it ought with great diligence to be preserued: For all the treasure of the Indies is not equall in value, to that which the woman beareth in her bowells,
When a man planteth a vineyard, forthwith he maketh a ditche, or some Fence for it, to the ende that Beastes should not crop it whiles it is young: nor that Trauellers should gather the Grapes when they are ripe. And if the Labourer doeth this thing for to get a little wine onely, the which for the soule and bodie is not always profitable: How much more circūspection ought the woman to haue, to preserue her childe, since she shall render an accosit to the Creator of her creature; vnto the Church of a christian, and vnto her Husband of a childe?
In mine opinion, where the account at the houre of death is so streight, it is requisite for her, that in the time of her life she be very circumspect: For GOD knoweth euery thing so well in our life, that there is none that can beguile him, in rendring his account at his death. There is no wight can suffer, nor hart dissemble, to see a man haue his desire: that is to say, to haue his Wife great with chllde, and ready to bring forth good fruite, and afterwards to see the wofull Mother, by or throgh some sudden accident perish, & the innocent babe not to be borne.
When the VVoman is healthfull, and big with childe, she is worthie of great reproach, if eyther by running, leaping, or dauncing, any mischaunce hap vnto her. And truly the Husband hath great cause to lament this case: For without doubt the Gardener feeleth great griefe in his heart, when in the Prime-time the tree is loden with blossomes, and yet by reason of some sharpe and bitter Frost, it neuer beareth fruite. It is not onely euill that women should runne and leape when they are bigge and great with childe, but it is also dishonest, & specially for great Ladyes: For alwayes women that are common dauncers, are esteemed as light houswiues.
The Wiues in generall, Princesses and great Ladyes in particular, ought to goe temperately, and to be modest in theyr mouings: For the modest gate argueth discreetnesse in the person. All women naturally desire to be honoured, and reuerenced: and touching The desire of Women. that I let them know, that there is nothing which in a commonwealth is more honour for a woman, then to be wise and warie in speaking, moderate and quiet in going. For it is vnpossible but that the woman which is light in her going, and malicious in her talking, should bee despised and abhorred.
In the yeare of the Foundation of Rome, 466. the Romaines sent Curius Dentatus, to make warre against King Pyrrus, who kept the citie of Tharent, and did much harme to the people in Rome: For the Romaines had a great [Page 205] courage to conquer strange Realmes, and therefore they could haue no patience to suffer any stranger to inuade theirs.
This Curius Dentatus was he which in the end ouercame King Pyrrus, and was the first that brought the Elephants to Rome in his triumphe, wherfore the fiercenesse of those Beasts astonished the Romane people much: for they weighed little the sight of the Kings loden with yrons, but to see the Elephants as they did, they wondred much.
Curius Dentatus had one onely Sister, the which he entierly loued. They were seuen children, two of the which died in the warres, and other three by pestilence: So that there were none left him but that sister, wherefore hee loued her with all his heart. For the death of vnthrifty children, is but as a watch for children vnprouided of fauors. This sister of Curius Dentatus was marryed to a Roman Consull, and was conceyued, and gone 7. moneths with childe: and the day that her brother Triumphed, (for ioy of her Brothers honour) she leaped and daunced so much, that in the same place shee was deliuered, and so vnluckely, that the Mother tooke her death, and the Childe neuer liued: wherevpon the feast of the Triumph ceased, and the Father of the infant with sorrowe lost his speech, For the heart which suddenly feeleth griefe incontinently loseth vnderstanding.
Tibullus the Grecian, in the 3. booke De casibus Triumphi, declareth the hystorie in good stile, how, and in what sorte it chaunced. Nine yeares after Tibullus de casibus triumphi. that the Kings of Rome were banished for the rape that Tarquine did, to the chaste Lucretia, the Romaines created a dignitie, which they called Dictatura, and the Dictator that had this office, was aboue all other Lord and chiefe: For the Romaines perceyued that the Commonwealth could not be gouerned, but by one head alone. And because the Dictatour had so great authoritie, as the Emperour hath at this present, and to the end they shold not become Tyrants: they prouided that the office of the Dictatorship should last no longer then vi. moneths in the yeare, the which past and expired, they chose another. Truely it was a good order that that office dured but 6. moneths. For oft times Princes thinking to haue perpetuall authoritie, become negligent in vsing iustice.
The first Dictator in Rome, was Largius Mamillus, who was sent against the Volces, the which at that time were The first Dictator in Rome. the greatest enemies to the Romaines: For Rome was founded in such a signe, that alwayes it was beloued of fewe, and abhorred of manie.
As Titus Liuius saieth, this Largius Mamillus vanquished the Volces, and triumphed ouer them, and in the end of that warre destroyed their mightie citie called Curiola, and also destroyed and ouerthrew many places and Fortresses in that Prouince: for the cruell harts do not only destroy the persons, but also take vengeaunce of the stones. The hurtes which L: Mamillus did in the Countrey of the Volces, were maruellous, and the men which he slew were many, and the treasories he robbed were infinite, and the captiues which hee had in his Triumphe were a great number: amongst whom in especiall he brought captiue a Noble mans daughter, a beautiful gentlewomā, the which he kept in his house, for the recreation of his person: For the ancient Romaines gaue to the people all the treasures to maintaine the warre, and they took to themselues all the vicious thinges to keepe in theyr houses. The case was, that this damsel beeing with childe, Largius Mamillus brought her to solace her selfe in the orchard, wher were sundry yōg fruits, [Page 206] and as then not ripe to eate, whereof with so great affection shee did eate, that forthwith shee was deliuered in the same place of a creature: so that on the one part she was deliuered, and on the other part the childe dyed.
This thing chaunced in the gardens of Vulcan, two dayes after the triumph of Largius Mamilius, a ruefull and lamentable case to declare, forasmuch as both the childe that was borne, the Mother that was deliuered, and also the Father that begat it, the self-same day dyed, and were buryed all in one graue: and this thing was not without great wayling and lamenting thoroughout all Rome: For if with teares their liues might haue been restored, without doubt none of them should haue bene buryed.
The first Sonne of Rome, which rebelled against Rome, was Tarquine the proude. The second that withstoode Rome (beeeing as yet in Lucanta,) was The first rebell in Rome. Quintus Marcius. The third that went against Rome, was the cruell Sylla. The dammages which these three did to their Mother Rome, were such and so great, that the three seuerall warres of Affrike were nothing to be compared to these three euill children: for those enemyes could scarcely see the walles of Rome, but these vnnaturall children had almost not left one stone vppon another.
A man ought not greatly to esteeme those buyldings which those Tyrants thre we to the ground, nor the buildings which they destroyed, neyther the men that they slewe, nor the women that they forced, nor yet the Orphanes which they made: but aboue all things we ought to lament for that which they brought into Rome. For the Common-wealth is not destroyed for lacke of wealth, riches, and sumptuous buyldings, but euen because all vices abound, and vertues are wanting.
Of these three Romaines, hee whose name was Quintus Marcius had beene Consull thrice, once Dictator, and foure times Censor, and in the ende hee was with much shame bannished from Rome, wherewith to reuenge this iniurie, hee came with a great power and Armie against Rome: For the proude hart wounded with iniurie, is neuer quyet in his life time, vnill hee see his enemyes destroyed, or that on them he hath taken vengeance.
Quintus Marcius being very nigh to the Gates of Rome, was most instantly required that hee would not destroy his Mother Rome: but hee tooke no regarde, nor would condiscend to any request, vntill such time that his Mother issued, with a Niece of his, whom hee loued entierly. At whose intercession & teares he left his anger, and raised his siege from Rome. For manie are sooner ouercome with teares, then with importunate and reasonable requests.
The Ladyes of Rome vsed much to haue their haires long and yellow, and to weare their wastes high & streight. An auncient custome vsed by the Ladyes in Rome. And as the Niece of Quintus Marcius was great and big with childe, the day that the peace was made between Q: Marcius and Rome, lacing herselfe too hard in her attire, to seeme more proper and comely, shee long before her time was deliuered of a creature: and the case was so woefull and vnfortunate, that the creature deliuered died: the Mother lost her life, and the mother loosing her life, suddainly her grandmother fel dead to the ground; throgh which occasion all the ioy and mirth was turned into sorrowe & sadnes. For it is commonly seene, when the World is in the greatest ioy, then Fortune suddainly turneth it into sorrow. The Authors heereof are Tibulus and Porphyrius, both Grecians.
CHAP. X. ¶ The Authour followeth and declareth other inconuemences, and vnlucky chaunces which haue happened to Women with Childe.
THe wars of Tarent beeing ended, immediately begūne the warres of Carthage, of which so long and tedious warre, the possession of the Isles of Maiorica and Minorica were occasion: Forsomuch as the one would take it, and the other defend it. This warre endured wel nigh the space of 40, yeares: for oft times the wastes and dammages which are done in the Warres are greater, then the profite for which they contend.
The first Captaine in this Warre of the Romaines, was Gaius Duellus, and the first of the Carthaginians, was Hammon, the which with their Ships fought on the Sea of Scicile the which was very cruell: for there they feared both the fury of the Sea, and also the crueltie of the Pike, the which two things, put mans life in great danger.
Of this cruell Battell the Romaine Captaine remained victorious, forasmuch as he drowned 14. Sippes, and tooke other 30. hee slew three thousand men, and broght three thousand The first victorie the Romaines obtained by Sea. Carthaginians prisoners: and this was the first victory that the Romaines had by Sea. And that that the Romaines most reioyced at was, that by Sea also they remained Conquerours.
The Captaine Gaius Duellus departing from Scicile came to Rome, where he had a Sister no lesse vertuous, then rich and beautifull: in whose house hee lodged, where hee made a most costly Supper to all the Senatours of Rome, and to all the Captains which came with him from the warres: for the vicious men knewe not wherin to shew their loue to their Friendes, but by inuiting them to costly Banquets. The Sister of the Captain Gaius Duellus, for ioy of his comming, and for the pleasure of the Banquet and Feast which was made in her house, did eate more then shee was accustomed, and also more then it behoued one in her case, so that in the presence of all, shee began to annnoy the bidden Guests: For shee not onely vomited out the meate of her stomacke, but also the bloud of her veines, and therewithall most vnluckely brought forth her fruit which she had in her entrailes, wherewith immediately after the Soule departed from the bodie, and so dyed.
Truely this case was no lesse to be lamented then the other, for so much as Gaius lost his Sister, the Husband lost his Wife and his Childe, and the wife and the childe lost their liues: and for that that Rome lost so Noble and excellent a Romane, and aboue all for that it chaunced in such a time of so great ioy and pleasure. For there can come no vnluckier newes, then in the time of much myrth to heare tell of any great mischance. Of this matter mention is made in Blandus, in the book of the declinatiō of the Empire.
The second warre of Affrike, which was betweene Rome and Carthage, was in the 540. yeares after the Foundation of Rome, wherein were Captaines Paulus Emilius, and Publius Varro: the which two Consulls fought the great and famous bloudy Battell of Cannas, in the Prouince of Apulia: I say famous; because Rome neuer lost such Nobilitie and Romaine youth, as shee lost in that day.
Of these two Consulles, Paulus Emilius in the Battell was slayne, and Publius Varro was ouercome, and the most couragious Hanniball remained [Page 208] conquerour of the Field, wherein dyed xxx. Senatours, and 300. officers of the Senate, and aboue xl. thousand footmen, and three thousand horsemen. Finally, the end of all the Roman people had been that day, if Hannibal had had the witte to haue followed so noble a victory, as he had the courage to giue so cruell a Battell.
A litle before that Publius Varro departed to goe to the warres, hee was married to a faire and young Romaine called Sophia, and within seuen moneths shee was quicke; and as newes was brought her, that Paulus Aemilius was dead, and her husband ouercome she died suddenly, the creature remaining aliue in her bodie. This case aboue all was very pittifull, in that that after he himselfe was vanquished, and The death of Sophia, and that he had seene his companion the Consull Emilius slaine, with so great a number of the Romane people, Fortune would that with his own eyes he should behold the entrailes of his wife cut, to take out the Childe, and likeewise to see the Earth opened, to burie his wife.
Titus Liuius saith, that Publius Varro remained so sorrowfull in his heart, Titus Liuius to see himselfe ouercome of his enemyes, and to see his wife so suddenly, and so vnluckely stricken with death, that all the time that his life endured, he neyther combed his beard, slept in bed, nor dined at the Table: and hereat we ought not to maruel: for a man in his hart may be so wounded in one houre, that hee shall neuer reioyce all the dayes of his life. If wee put no doubts in Titus Liuius, the Romaines had long and tedious warres against the Samnites, which endured for the space of lxiii. yeares contiually, vntill such time as the Consull Ancus Rutilius (who was a vertuous man) did set a good appointment of peace between the Samnites and the Romanes: For the noble & stout harts ought alwaies by vertue to bring their enemies to peace These warres therfore being so cruell and obstinate, Titus Venurius, and Spurius Posthuminus (which were Romaine Captains) were ouercome by Pontius the valiant Captaine of the Samnites: who after the victorie did a thing neuer seene nor heard of before. That is to say, that all the Romaine prisoners whom hee tooke, hee put about theyr necks a yoke, wherein was written, In spight of Rome, the Romaines shall be subtects to the yoke of the Samnites. Wherewith indeed the Romains were greatly iniuried, wherefore they sought stoutto be reuēged of the Samnites: for the harts that are haughty & proud, cānot suffer that others haue theyr mindes lofty and high. The Romaines therefore created to bee Captaine of the Warre, one named Lucius Papirius, who had Commission to goe against the Samnites. This Lucius was more Fortunate in his doings, then comely of his person, for he was deformed of his face: notwithstanding, hee did so good seruice in the warre, and Fortune fauoured him so well, that he did not onely ouercome and vanquish, but also destroyed them: and though the iniurie which the Samnites did to the Romaines was great, yet truely the iniurie which the Romaines did to the Samnites was much greater. For Fortune is so variable, that those which The mutabilitie of Fortune. yesterday we saw in most prosperitie, too day wee see in greatest aduersitie. This Lucius Papirius therfore did not only vanquish the Samnites, kept them prisoners, and made yokes for theyr neckes, but also he bound them with cords together, in such sort, that they made them plough the ground, drawing two and two a plough. And yet not herewith contēted, but with gads, they pricked and tormented them.
If the Samnites had had pitie of the Romaines beeing ouercome, the Romaines likewise would haue taken [Page 209] compassion of them when they were Conquerours. And therefore the prosperous haue as much neede of good counsell, as the miserable haue neede of remedie. For the man which is not merciful in his prosperitie, hee ought not to maruel though he finde no friendes in his necessitie.
This Lucius Papirius had a Daughter maried to a Senator of Rome, who was called Torquatus, and she was called Ypolita, And about that time that she should haue bene deliuered, shee went forth to receiue her Father, the which she ought not to haue don: for the throng of the people in receiuing him being great, and she herselfe being great with child, by a most heauie chaunce, as she would haue passed in at a narrow gate, shee was so prest in The death of Ypolita. the throng, that she chaunged her life for death, and her Father turned his m [...]th and ioy into sorrow and sadnes. For he tooke the death of his daughter very heauilie: and so much the more, because it was so suddenly.
I say, hee tooke it heauily, since he was so stoute a man, and so Sage withall, that all Rome thought much that any such sudden chaunce should haue dismayed so worthie a man, that of his wisedome he could take no benefite: but heereat let no man maruell: For ther are many that haue harts to shed the bloud of their enemies, and yet cā not withholde the teares of their eyes.
Annius Seuerus, in the third booke De infelieitate Fortuna, saith: that the day that this wofull mishap chaunced to Lucius Papirius, hee lift vp his eyes to the Heauens, and weeping saide:
Oh Fortune, deceiuer of all mortall men, thou madest mee to conquere in warre, to the intent to ouercome me in peace. My mind was to declare vnto you all these ancients hystories, to the end that al may know, how tender women with childe are: and how diligent their Husbands ought to bee to preserue them: since there is nothing so tender to be kept, nor any glasse so easie to be broken. For there is much glasse, that thogh it fall to the ground yet it doeth not breake, but a woman The dangs [...] of women with childe. with Childe, onely for treading her foote awry, we see with daunger to be deliuered.
CHAP. XI. That Women great with childe, and especially Princesses & great ladyes, ought to be gently vsed of theyr Husbands.
IF wee vnderstand the Chapter before wee shall finde that women with childe haue bin in great dā gers, some through leaping, some by dauncing, others by eaung, others by banquetting, others throgh gadding, others by straight lacing: and all this proceedeth throgh their own follies, that seeke to bee destroyers of theyr owne bodyes. Truly herein Princesses and great Ladyes are worthie of much rebuke, when throgh their own follies they are not safely deliuered of their creatures. And I would gladly they toke example, not only of reasonable men, but also of brute beasts: for there is no beast so brute in the wilde mountains, but escheweth that which to his life and death will be hurtfull.
The Beares, the Lyonnesse, and the Wolfes, neuer issue out of their caues and dennes so long as they be bigge, and this they doe to auoyde the dangers of the Hunters, because at that time they would not be coursed.
Then seeing these things are done by the brute beastes, (whose younglings are alwayes hurtfull vnto men,) to the intent theyr rauening greedie Whealpes might safely bee brought [Page 210] foorth to deuoure our innocent Cattell: How much more then ought the Woman to be carefull for her fruite, which is the increase of christian congregation? If Women brought not forth, and Children were not borne, though there be earth, yet there should bee none to people it: For GOD created all things to serue the creature, and created the creatures to serue their Creator.
Let VVomen that are with childe take example by the Chesse-nuts and Wal-nuts, how and in what sort they defend their fruite, after that of theyr blossoms they are depriued: for the chessenuttree defendeth his fruit with a rough and hard huske, the wall-nut keepeth her fruite with a thicke shale in like maner, so that the water cannot wet them, nor the winde shake them.
Now since that the Trees (which A good warning for women with childe. haue but a vegetatiue life, and the Beasts but a Sensitiue life, take such heede to themselues, when they feele them ready to bring forth their fruite, much more women with child ought to take heede to themselues, since they haue reason and vnderstanding, lest through theyr negligence the creature should perish. Let euery man iudge how little he loseth, when he loseth nuttes and chessenuts: and for the contrarie, let euery men iudge what the Church looseth, when the women with child do not bring forth their fruit, into the light of baptisme. For our mother the holy Church bewaileth not for that the vines are frozen: but for the soules that are lost.
To the ende that the man may see fruitfull blessing which hee desireth, & that the woman with child may see her selfe well deliuered, the Husband ought to beware that hee enforceth her not much to labour, and the woman likewise ought to be circumspect that shee take not too much idlenes. For in women with child this is a generall rule, that too much trauell causeth them before theyr time to deliuer: and too much idlenesse putteth them in daunger. The man is cruell that will haue his Wife trauell, and take as much paines when shee is big, as he would at another time when she is not with childe: for the man which is clothed, can not runne so swifte, as hee that is naked.
Aristotle in the sixt booke de Animalibus, saith: When the Lyonnesse is bigge with whelp, the Lyon doth not only hunt for her himselfe: but also both night & day he wandreth cōtinually to watch her.
I meane that Princesses and great Aristotle de Animalibus Ladyes, when they be with Childe, should bee of theyr Husbands both tended and serued: For the man cannot do the woman so great a pleasure before her lying down, as she doth to him when she bringeth forth a sonne
Considering the daunger that the woman abideth in her deliueraunce, and beholding the paines that the Husband taketh in her seruice: without comparison that is greater which she suffereth, then that which hee endureth. For when the woman deliuereth, she doth more then her power, and the Husband (though hee serueth her well, doeth lesse then his duetie. The gentle and louing Husband ought not one moment to forsake his wife, specially when hee seeth shee is great: For in the law of a good Husband it is written, that hee should set his eyes to beholde her, his handes to serue her, he shold spend his goods to cherish her, and should giue his heart The propertie of a good Husband. to content her. Let not men thinke it paines to serue their wiues when they are with childe, for their labour consisteth in their strength, but the trauell of their wiues is in their entrails. And that which is most pitiful is, that when the sorrowfull women will discharge their burden on the earth, they often times bring thēselues vnto the graue.
[Page 211] The meane women of the Plebians ought no lesse to be reproued, for that when they are with child they would be exempted from all businesse of the house: the which neyther they themselues ought to desire, nor yet their husbands to suffer: for idlenesse is not onely an occasion not to deserue heauen: but also it is a cause whereby women oft times haue ill successe in their trauaile: for considering both the daintie Lady with childe, that hath her pleasure, and doth little; and on the other side, the poore mans wife, which moderately laboureth, you shall see, that the great Ladyes, for all their pleasures, abideth more danger then the other doth with all her labour.
The husband ought to keepe his wife from taking too much paynes; for so ought he to doe: and the wife likewise ought to flee too much pleasure, for it behoueth her.
For the meane trauell is no other but occasion of a safe deliuerie. The women with childe also ought to take heede to themselues, and in especially noble & great ladies, that they be not too greedy & hasty in eating. For the woman being with child ought to be sober: and the woman which is a great eater, with great pains shal liue chaste. Women with child oft times doe disorder themselues in eating licorous meats: and vnder the colour of feeding themselues & their infant, they take too excessiuely; which is not onely vnholsome for the Childe, but also dishonour for their mothers. For truely by the excesse of the Mother (being with child) commeth many diseases to the infant whē it liueth.
The Husbands also ought neyther to displease nor grieue their Wiues, especially when they see them great with childe: for of truth oftentimes she deliuereth with more daunger, by reason of the offences that men doe vnto them, then by the aboundance of meates which they doe eate.
Though the Woman when shee is with Childe, in some things doth offend her Husband, yet hee like a wise man ought to forbeare her, hauing respect to the childe, wherewith she is great, and not to the iniuries that she hath committed: For in the end, the Reasonable Creatures may take example by the vnreasonable. Mother cannot bee so great an offender, but the child is much more innocent. For the proofe of this, it needeth not books to read, but onely our eyes to see: how the brute Beasts for the most part (when their females are bigge) do not touch them, nor yet the Females suffer them to be touched. I meane, that the Noble and high Estates ought to absent thēselues from their wiues carnally, being great with childe: and hee that in this case shall shewe himselfe most temperate, shall of all men be deemed most vertuous.
I doe not speake this to the ende it should binde a man, or that it were an offence then to vse the companie of his wife, but vnto men that are vertuous I giue it as a counsell. For some A custome among the Mauritanians. things ought to bee done of necessitie, and others ought to be eschued for honestie.
Dyodorus Siculus saieth, that in the Realme of Mauritania there were so few men, and so many women, that euery man had fiue wiues: where there was a law among them, that no man should marrie vnder three wiues: furthermore they had a wonderfull and foolish custome, that when any Husband died, one of those women shuld cast herselfe quicke into the graue, and be buried with him. And if that within a moneth she did it not, or that she dyed not, by iustice shee was openly put to death: saying, that it is more honestie to bee in companie with her Husband in the graue, then it is to be alone in her house.
In the Isles of Baleares the contrary [Page 212] is seene, for there increase so many men, and so few women, that for one woman there was seuen men: and so they had a custome, especially amongst the poore, that one woman should bee marryed with fiue men. For the rich men sent to seeke for women in other strange Realmes, wherfore then Merchants came heauie loaden with women, as now they doe with marchandize to sell. Vpon which occasion there was a custome in those Isles, that (for as much as there were so few women) when any woman with childe drew neere the seuen monethes, they were seperated from their husbands, and shutte and locked vp in the Temples, where they gaue them such things as were necessary for them of the common treasure. For the ancients had their Gods in such veneration, that they would not permit any person to eate that which he brought; but of that which vnto the Gods of the Temple was offered. At that time the Barbarous kept theit wiues locked in the Church, because the Gods hauing them in their Temples, should bee more mercifull vnto them in their deliuerie, and also to cause them to auoyde the dangers at that time: and besides that, because they tooke it for a great villany, that the women, during that time, should remaine with their husbands.
The famous and renowmed Philosopher, Pulio, in the fift Booke, De moribus antiquorum, said, That in the Realme of Pannonia, (which now is Hungarie) the women that were great A custome in Hungary with childe were so highly esteemed, that when any went out of her house, all those which mette with her were bound to returne backe with her; and in such sort as wee at this present doe reuerence the holy Communion, so did these Barbarous then the women with childe.
The women of Carthage, being with childe (when Carthage was Carthage) had as great priuileges, as now our Sanctuaries haue for the safegard of misdoers: for, in times past, all such offenders as could enter into the house where a woman lay in childbed, should haue beene free from correction of Iustice.
As Fronto saith, in his Booke of the Veneration of the Gods, the Gallois Transalpins did not only honor & reuerence the women with childe; but also with much care and diligence watched her deliuery: for it little auaileth the Shippe to haue passed safe the dangerous Seas, if at the Shore she be cast away.
The case was in this sort, that al the ancient Gentiles honored some gods in their Temples, and kept other in The false opinion of the Heathen. their houses, the which were called Lares and Penates: and when any woman began to labour, each neighbour brought his familiar god vnto her, to present her with all, because they thought, that the more gods there were, of so much more power they were to keepe her from perills.
Speaking like a Christian; Truely, those gods were of small value, since they could not helpe the woman safely to be deliuered that was in trauaile.
CHAP. XII. What the Philosopher Pisto was: and of the Rules hee gaue concerning women with childe.
IN the time of Octauian the Emperour, was a Philosopher called Pisto, which was of the sect of Pithagoras; and when Rome flourished, he was very familiar with the Emperour Octauian, and well beloued of all the people, which ought not to be a little esteemed: for he which of the Prince is most fauored, commonly [Page 213] of the people is much hated.
This Emperour Octauian was a The Commendation of the Emperour Octauian. Prince very desirous of all vertuous things; so that when he dined with his Captaines, he spake of Warre; when he supped with the Sages, hee reasoned of the Sciences; and he that vttered any dishonest or idle word in his presence, hee alwaies afterward tooke him as his enemie.
This Pisto was very graue in waightie affaires, very pleasant in slents and jests; and oft times he was demanded many questions of the Emperour, whereof the answeres of some (according to the demands and questions) here followeth.
The Emperour sayd to Pisto, Of all The saying of Pisto. these that liueth, whom takest thou to be most Foole? To whom the Philosopher answered. In my opinion, I take him to be most foole, of whose word there commeth no profite: for truely, he is not so very a foole that flingeth stones into the winde, as he that vttereth vaine words.
Tell me, Pisto, Whom ought wee of right to desire to speake, & whom of right to command to be silent? He answered; It is good when speech doth profite, and good to keepe silence when speech is hurtfull: for the one desiring to maintaine the good, and the other to defend the euill, warres begin throughout all the world.
Tell mee, Pisto, from what thing ought the fathers most to keepe their children? He sayd, In my opinion, parents ought in nothing to watch so much, as to keepe them from being vicious: for the father ought rather to haue his sonne dye well, then to liue euill.
Tell me, Pisto, What shall man do if hee be brought to this extremitie, That if he speake truth, hee condemneth himselfe: and if hee make a lye, he saueth himselfe? The vertuous man (said he) ought rather to choose to be ouercome by truth, then to ouercome by lyes: for it is vnpossible, that a man which is a lyer should continue long in prosperity.
Tell me, Pisto, What shall men do to obtaine rest? He answered, As I thinke, the man cannot haue rest, vnlesse he forsake worldly affayres: for the men that are occupied with weightie affaires, cannot be without great cares, or alwaies accompanied of great troubles.
Tell me, Pisto, wherein a man sheweth himselfe to be most wise? He answered. There is no greater proofe to know a wise man, then if he be patient to suffer the ignorant: for in suffering an iniurie, the heart is more holpen by wisedome then by knowledge.
Tell mee, Pisto, What is that thing that the vertuous man may lawfully desire? He answered, All that is good (so that it be not to the preiudice of any other) may honestly be desired: but in my opinion, that onely ought to bee desired, which openly without shame may bee demanded.
Tell me, Pisto, What shall men do with their wiues when they are great with childe, to cause that the child in safetie may be deliuered? He answered, In the world there is nothing more perillous, iben to haue the charge of a woman with childe: for if the husband serue her, hee hath paine and trauaile: and if perchance hee doe not content her, she is in danger.
In this case the wiues of Rome, and their husbands also, ought to be very diligent, and to the things following more carefull, the which I shew them more for counsell then for commandement: for good counsell ought to haue as much authoritie in the vertuous, as the commandement hath in the vicious.
Thou Octauian, as thou art a mercifull and a pittifull Emperour, and How good counsell ought to be regarded. that thou keepest thy Neece Collucia great with childe, I know thou desirest that shee had presently good and lucky deliuery, and that shee were deliuered [Page 214] of her paine: all the which thou shalt see, if thou dost marke these things that I will shew thee heere following.
First, the woman ought to beware of dancing, leaping, and running: for leaping What is required of women with child. oftentimes maketh man to lose his speach, and women with childe to lose their life, wherefore it is not reason that the folly of the mother should bee permitted to put in hazzard the life of the child.
The second, the woman being with childe, ought to beware that shee be not so hardy, to enter into Gardens where there is much fruit, and that for eating too many shee bee not ill deliuered: for it is no reason, that the lycorousnes of the mother be punished with the death of the childe.
The third, the woman with childe ought to beware of ouer hard lacing her selfe about the middle: for many Romane Dames, for to seeme proper, doe weare their Gownes so straite, that it is an occasion to kill their creatures, which is a heynous matter, that the young babe should lose his life, because his mother should seeme pretty.
The fourth, the women with childe ought to beware of eating in a great Banquet: for oft times there commeth a suddaine deliuerance, onely through eating without measure: and it is not meete, that for tasting a thing of little value, the mother and the childe should both lose their liues.
The fift, the woman being with child ought to beware that she giueth no eare to any sudden newes: for shee is in more danger for hearing a thing that grieueth her, then for suffering long sicknesse that payneth her: and it were vniust, that for knowing of a trifling matter, the mother that is to be deliuered, and the child that is to be borne, should both in one moment perish.
The sixt, the woman with childe ought to beware that she goe not by any meanes to any Feasts, where there shall bee any great assembly of people: for oft times the woman with childe, seeing her to bee much thrust and prest, being not able to say, I am here, may immediately dye in the place: and it is not reason, but an vniust thing, that the woman, for the desire to see the children of others, should make of her owne Orphanes.
The seuenth, the husband ought to beware, that she being with childe, bee not deneyd any honest thing that shee doth minde; for ingranting her it cannot cost him much; but in denying her, hee may lose much: and it would not bee iust, that since in her bringing foorth she honoreth and increaseth the Common-wealth of Rome, that Rome should condiscend that any woman with child should receiue any hurt or dishonour.
These bee the answeres that Pisto made the Emperour Octauian, the which hee gaue as Rules to women with childe, which being so kept, I do assure you, that the great Ladyes should deliuer themselues from many perils, & the husbands also should escape from many sorrowes.
Concluding therefore that which aboue all is spoken, I say, that Princesses and great Ladies, when they are with childe, ought to bee more warie and circumspect then other meane women: for where man hopeth to haue most profit, there ought he most to be carefull.
The Authour of this is Pulio, in Pulio de moribus antiq: his third Booke De moribus antiquorū, & Sextus Cheronsnsis in his fift booke De legibus domesticis.
CHAP. XIII.
Of three Counsels which Lucius Seneca gaue vnto a Secretarie his friend, who serued the Emperour Nero: and how the Emperour Marcus Aurelius disposed all the houres of the day.
THe Emperour Nero had a Secretary called Emilius Varro, the [Page 215] which being in Rome builded a sumptuous house ioyning vnto the Gate of Salaria, whereunto hee inuited one day Lucius Seneca to a banquet, to the end the house might bee more fortunate: for the Romanes had a prophecie, That according to the good or ill lucke of him that first entred into a new house, so should it continually be luckie, or vnluckie. Lucius Seneca graunted to the request of his friend Emilius Varro: and when they had well eaten, they went both to see this new building, shewing vnto Lucius Seneca all things: at the last the Secretary sayd thus vnto Seneca: Those betweene both, are for Guests: those Halles, are for Merchants & Suitors: these Secrets, are for Women: those Chambers, are for Knights: those Galleries, which are couered, are to auoide the Sunne: this lowest part here, is for Horses: the Sellers, are for the Buttry: in the end he shewed him the whole house, for the furnishing whereof they lacked not one jot.
After the Secretarie Emilius Varro had shewed him all his house, hee looked when his Guest Seneca would greatly praise and commend it; but he, as though hee knew nothing, sayd vnto Emilius Varro, as he went out of the dores, Whose house is this? Wherevnto Emilius answered: How now, Seneca! canst thou not tell? I haue employed all my goods in building this house, and haue led thee all about to see it, and I haue told thee that it is mine; and yet dost thou aske me againe whose it is?
Lucius Seneca answered: Thou hast shewed vs the house for strangers, the house for sleues, the house for women, the house for horses; and in all this house thou hast not shewed me one little part for thy selfe, but that another man doth enter into it: for if thou hast any interest therein, they haue the best thereof, which is the possession. I account thee a wise man, I doe account thee a man of vnderstanding, and allso I know, that with all thy heart, thou art my friend: and since I haue beene bidden to day by the, it is but reason, that for to reward that which thou hast done to me, I doe some seruice vnto thee, which shall be to giue vnto thee some good counsell: for strangers vse to pay for the feast with money, and vaine men with telling lyes, babblers by counting vaine tales, children by flatteries; but vertuous men ought to pay by giuing good Counsels. This house hath cost thee much paine, great griefes, and much money, and if it cost thee so much, it is but reason that thou enioy the same: take therefore these my three counsels, and it may be thou wilt find thy selfe better contented with those, then with money of strangers: for many haue wherewithall to build a house, but they haue not vnderstanding to gouerne the same.
The first counsell is, Though that Lucius Seneca his counsell. thou loue thy friend very well, or thy wife as well, yet that thou neuer discouer all the secrets of thy heart neither to thy friend, nor to thy wife: but that thou alwaies reserue some particular vnto thy selfe: for Plato saith, to whome a man committeth his secrets, to him also hee giueth his libertie.
The second counsel is, That neither in priuate businesse, nor in publike affaires, thou occupy thy selfe so much, but at the least thou dost reserue three houres in the day for thine owne rest.
The third counsell is, That thou haue in thy house some secret place, wherof thou alone shalt haue the key, and therein thou shalt haue Bookes, where thou maist study of thy affaires, and also talke with thy friends. Finally, this place shall be a secretary of thy counsels, and a rest for thy trauels.
These were the words that Lucius Seneca spake to his friend Emilius Varro, which words were such as he himselfe was, that is to say, of a sage and [Page 216] excellent personage: and though the Banquet was rich, yet the payment of Lucius Seneca was much more worth: for the minde feeleth more taste in the good and ripe counsell, then the body doeth in sauory and delicate meates.
I haue told you this example of Lucius Seneca, for to tell another that happened to the Emperour Marcus Aurclius, with his wife Faustine. And to the end, that the order of the matter bee not turned without breaking our Historie, first we will declare here the order which this Emperour obserued in his life: for the Common-wealth shall neuer be well gouerned, but where the Prince gouerneth well his life. Princes of necessitie ought to bee well ordered in this life, because How vertuous Princes ought to be. they may profite the affayres of the Empire, with the particulars of their house: and because they should vse the particulars of their house to the recreation of their Person: and all these things ought to bee deuided according to time: for a good Prince ought to lacke no time to doe that thing well which he hath to doe, nor ought hee to haue any time vacant to employ himselfe to vice.
The worldly call that time good, the which is, or was prosperous vnto them: they call that time euill, which is, or hath beene contrary and vnfortunate vnto them.
The Creator will neuer that this sentence bee approued by my penne: but I call that time good, which is imployed in vertues; and that time euill, that is lost in vices: for the times are alwayes as one; but men do turne from vice to vertue, from vertue to vice.
The good Emperour, Marcus Aurelius, did deuide the time, by time: so, that though hee had time for himselfe, he had time likewise to dispatch his owne and others affayres: for the man that is willing, in a small time dispatcheth much businesse: and the man which is negligent, in along time doth little.
This was the order that the Emperour Marcus Aurelius tooke in spending his time: He slept seuen houres in the night, and one houre rested How the Emperour Marcus Aurclius spent his time. himselfe in the day. In dining and supping, hee consumed onely two houres; and it was not for that hee tooke great pleasure to belong in eating; but because the Philosophers, which disputed before his Presence, were occasion to prolong the time: for in seuenteene yeeres they neuer sawe him at meate, but one or other read vnto him some Booke, or else the Philosophers reasoned before him Philosophy. As he had many Realmes and Prouinces, so he appointed one houre for the affayres of Asia, for Affricke one houre, and Europe another houre: and for the conuersation of his wife, children, and familie, he appointed other two houres of time: hee had another houre for extraordinary affayres; as, to heare the complaints of the grieued, the quarrels of the poore, the complaints of the widdowes, and the robberies done to the orphanes: for the mercifull Prince giueth no lesse care vnto the poore, which for want can doe little; then to the rich, which for abundance can do much. Hee occupied all the residue of the day and night to read Bookes, write works: to make meeter, and in studying of other Antiquities, to practise with the Sage, & to dispute with the Philosophers: and finally, he tooke no taste of any thing so much, as hee did to talke of Science: Vnlesse the cruell warres did let him, or such like affayres troubled him, ordinarily in Winter he went to bed at nine of the clocke, and awaked at foure: and because he would not be idle, he had alway a Booke vnder his beds head, and [Page 217] the residue of the day hee bestowed in reading.
The Romanes had an ancient custome to beare fire before them: that is to say, a Torch light in the day, and A custome among the Romanes. a Lampe burning in the night in their Chambers: so that waking, they burned Waxe; and sleeping, they burned Oyle. And the cause why the Romanes ordeyned that the Oyle should be made of Oliue, and the Waxe made of Bees (which was vsed to bee borne before the Princes) was to the end they should remember, that they ought to bee as gentle and louing as the Oyle of Oliue is sweete: and as profitable to the Common-wealth, as the Bees are.
Hee did rise at sixe of the clocke, and made himselfe ready openly; and with a gentle countenance hee asked them that were about him, wherein they had spent all the night, and declared vnto them then what hee had dreamed, what he had thought, and what hee had read. When hee was readie, he washed his face with odoriferous waters, and loued very well sweete sauours: for hee had so quicke a sent, that hee was much offended when hee passed through any stinking place.
In the morning he vsed to eate two morsels of a Lectuary made of Sticades, and dranke three spoonefulls of Maluesey, or else two droppes of Aqua vita, because he had a cold stomacke, for that hee gaue himselfe so much to studie in times past. We see it by experience, that the great Students are persecuted more with sicknesse then any others: for in the sweetnesse of the Science, they know not how their life consumeth.
If it were in the Summer season, hee went in the morning to recreate himselfe to the Riuer of Tiberi, and walked there a foote for two houres; and in this place they talked with him that had businesse: and truely it was a great policie; for, where as the Prince doth not sit, the suitor alwaies abridgeth his talke. And when the day began to waxe hot, he went to the high Capitoll, where all the Senate tarryed for him: and from thence hee went to the Coliseo, where the Ambassadours of the Prouinces were, and there remained a great part of the day. Afterwards he went to the Chappell of the Vestall Virgins, and there he heard euery Nation by it selfe, according to the order which was prescribed. Hee did eate but one meale in the day, and it was very late; but he did eate well: not of many and diuers sorts of meate, but of few and good: for the abundance of diuers & strange meates breedeth sundry diseases.
They sawe him once a weeke goe through Rome, and if hee went any more, it was a wonder: at the which time he was alwayes without company, both of his owne, and also of strangers, to the entent all poore men might talke with him of their businesse, or complaine of his Officers: for it is vnpossible to reforme the Common-wealth, if he which ought to remedie it, be not informed of the iniuries done in the same. He was so gentle in conuersation, so pleasant in words, so Noble amongst the Great, so equall with the least, so reasonable in that hee did aske, so perfect in that he did worke, so patient in iniuries, so thankefull of benefites, so good to the good, and so seuere to the euill, that all loued him for being good, and all the euill feared him for being iust. A man ought not little to esteeme the loue that the people bare to this so good a Prince and Noble Emperour, for so much as the Romanes haue been thus: that for the felicitie of their estate, they offered to their Gods greater Sacrifice, then they did in any other Prouinces.
[Page 218] And Sextus Cheronensis saith, that the Romanes offered more Sacrifices to the Gods, because they should lengthen the life of the Emperour, then they did offer for the profite of the Common-wealth. Truely their reason was good; for the Prince that leadeth a good life, is the heart of the Common-wealth. But I doe not maruell, that the Emperour was so well willed, and beloued of the Romane Empire: for he had neuer Porter to his Chamber, but the two houres which hee remayned with his wife Faustine.
All this being past, the good Emperour weat into his house, into the secretst place hee had (according to the counsell of Lucius Seneca) the key whereof he alone had in his custodie, and neuer trusted any man therewith, vntill the houre of his death; and then he gaue it to an olde ancient man called Pompeianus, saying vnto him these words:
Thou knowest right well, Pompeianus, that, thou being base, I exalted thee The speech of Marcus Aurelius at his death. to honour: thou being poore, I gaue thee riches: thou being persecuted, I drew thee to my Palace: I being absent, committed my whole honour to thy trust: thou being olde, I marryed thee with my daughter, and doe presently giue thee this Key.
Behold, that in giuing thee it, I giue thee my heart and life: for, I will thou know, that death grieueth mee not so much, nor the losse of my wife and children, as that I cannot carry my Bookes into the graue. If the Gods had giuen mee the choyse, I had rather choose to be in the graue inuironed with Bookes, then to liue accompanied with fooles: for, if the dead doe read, I take them to be aline; but if the liuing doe not read, I take them to be dead.
Vnder this key which I giue thee, remayneth many Greeke, Hebrew, Latine, and Romame Bookes: and aboue all, vnder this key remaineth all my paynes, swet, and trauells, all my watchings, and laboures, where also thou shalt finde Bookes by mee compiled: so that though the wormes of the earth doe eate my body; yet men shall finde my heart whole amongst these Bookes.
Once againe I doe require thee, and say, that thou oughtest not a little to esteeme the key which I giue thee: for wise men at the houre of their death, alwayes recommend that which they best loue, to them which in their liues they haue most loued.
I doe confesse, that in my Studie thou shalt finde many things with mine owne hand written and well ordered: and also I confesse, that thou shalt finde many things by me left vnperfect. In this case, I thinke, that though thou couldest not write them, yet thou shalt worke them well notwithstanding; and by these meanes thou shalt get reward of the Gods for working them.
Consider, Pompeian, that I haue beene thy Lord, I haue beene thy Father-in-law, I haue beene thy Father, I haue beene thy Aduocate, and aboue all, that I haue beene thy speciall friend, which is most of all: for a man ought to esteeme more a faithfull friend, then all the Parents of the world.
Therefore in the faith of that friendshippe I require, that thou keepe this in memorie, that euen as I haue recommended to others my Wife, my Children, my Goods, and Riches: So I doe leaue vnto thee in singuler recommendation my Honour: for Princes leaue of themselues no greater memorie, then by the good learning that they haue written.
I haue beene eighteene yeeres Emperour of Rome; and it is threescore and three yeeres that I haue remayned in this wofull life, during which time I haue ouercome many Battailes, I haue slayne many Pyrates, I [Page 219] haue exalted many good, I haue punished many euill, I haue wonne many Realmes, and I haue destroyed many Tyrants: but what shall I doe, wofull man that I am, sith all my companions, which were witnesses with me of all these worthy feates, shall be companions in the graue with the greedy wormes?
A thousand yeeres hence, when those that are now aliue shall then be dead, what is hee that shall say, I saw Marcus Aurelius triumph ouer the Parthians: I saw him make the buildings in Auentino: I sawe him well beloued of the people: I saw him father of the Orphanes: I saw him the scourge of Tyrants? Truely if all these things had not beene declared by my Bookes, or of my friends, the dead would neuer haue risen againe to haue declared them.
What is it for to see a Prince (from the time he is borne, vntill the time hee come to dye) to see the pouertie he passeth, the perills he endureth, the euill that hee suffereth, the shame that he dissembleth, the friendshippe that hee fayneth, the teares which hee sheddeth, the sighes that hee fetcheth, the promises that hee maketh, and doth not endure for any other cause the miseries of this life: but onely to leaue a memorie of him after his death.
There is no Prince in the world that desireth not to keepe a good house, to keepe a good table, to apparell himselfe richly, and to pay those that serue him in his house: but by this vaine honour, they suffer the water to passe through their lippes, not drinking thereof.
As one that hath proued it, it is reason that I bee beloued in this case, and that is, That the entent of Princes to conquere strange Realmes, and to permit their owne to suffer wrongs, is for no other thing, but because that the commendations which they speake of the Princes past, they should likewise talke the same of them that bee to come.
Concluding therefore my minde, and declaring my intention, I say, that the Prince that is Noble, and desireth to leaue off himselfe from fame, let him consider, and see what it is that those can write of him which write his history: for it profiteth little, that hee atchieue great affayres by the sword, if there bee no Writer to set them forth with the pen, and afterwards to exalt them with the tongue.
These words thus spoken by the Noble Emperour Marcus Aurelius, he gaue the key of his Studie to the Honourable olde man Pompeianus, that tooke all the Writings, and put them in the high Capitoll, where the Romanes honoured them, as the Christians the holy Scriptures. All these Writings, besides many others, perished in Rome, when by the barbarous it was destroyed: for the Gothes (vtterly to extinguish the name of Rome) destroyed not onely the walles Rome destroyed by the Gothes. thereof, but also the Bookes that were therein: And truely in this case the Gothes shewed more crueltie to the Romanes, then if they had slayne the children of their bodyes, or beate downe the walles of their Cities: For, without doubt, the liuely Letter is a more sweeter witnesse of renowme, that alwayes speaketh; then eyther the Lime, Sand, or Stone, wherewith Fortresses are builded.
CHAP. XIIII. Of the importunate suite of the Empresse Faustine, to the Emperour Marcus Aurelius, concerning the Key of his Closet.
WE haue declared, how the Emperour Marcus Aurelius had his Study in the secretst [Page 220] place of all the Palace, and how that he himselfe did keepe the key. It is to be vnderstood, that hee would neuer let his wife, his children, nor any other of his familiar friends come into it: for he sayd, I had rather suffer that they should take from mee my treasures, then that any man should turne the leaues of my Bookes.
It chanced, that on a day the Empresse Faustine, being great with childe, importuned the Emperour much, by all the meanes shee could, that he would be so fauourable vnto her, as to giue her the key of his Studie: and it is no maruell, for naturally women despise that which is giuen thē, & lust for that that is denied them.
Faustine instantly besought him, not once, but many times, not onely with faire words, but with abundant teares, alleadging vnto him these reasons: I haue required thee sundry times, that thou wouldest giue mee the key of thy chamber, and thou hast by iesting made frustrate my request, the which thou (my Lord) oughtest not to haue done, considering that I am with childe: for oftentimes it chanceth, that that wherefore the husband reioyceth this day, to morrow he doth lament.
Thou oughtest to remember that I am that Faustine the renowmed, the which in thy eyes am the fayrest, and of thy tongue haue beene most commended, of thy person I was best beloued, and of thy heart I am most desired: then since it is true, that thou hast me so deepely in heart, why then doubtest thou to shew mee the Writings of thy Studie. Thou dost communicate with mee the secrets of the Empire, and thou hidest from me the books of thy study. Thou hast giuen me thy tender heart of flesh, and now thou denyest mee the hard key of iron: now I must needs thinke that thy loue was fayned, that thy words were double, and that thy thoughts, were others then they seemed: for if they had been otherwise, it had been vnpossible thou shouldest haue denyed mee the key that I doe aske thee; for where loue is vnfayned, though the request bee merrily asked, yet it is willingly graunted.
It is a common custome, that you men vse to deceiue vs simple women, you present vs with great gifts, you giue many fayre words, you make vs faire promises, you say you will doe maruels, but in the ende you doe nothing but deceiue vs: for we are persecuted more of you, thē of any others.
When men in such wise importune the women, if the women had The importunity of the Empresse. power to deny and withstand, wee should in short space bring yee vnder the yoke, and leade you by the noses: but when we suffer our selues to be ouercome, then you beginne to forsake vs, and despise vs. Let mee therefore (my Lord) see thy Chamber, consider I am with childe, and that I dye vnlesse I see it. If thou dost not to doe me pleasure, yet doe it, at least, because I may no more importune thee: for if I come in danger through this my longing, I shall but lose my life: but thou shalt lose the childe that should be borne, and the mother also that ought to beare it.
I know not why thou shouldest put thy noble heart into such a dangerous fortune, wherby both thou & I at one time shuldperish; I dying so yōg, and thou in losing so louing a wife.
By the immortall Gods I doe beseech thee, and by the mother Berecinthia I coniure thee, that thou giue me the key, or that thou let me enter into the Study; and stick not with me thy wife in this my small request, but change thy opinion: for al that which without consideration is ordayned, by importunate suite may bee reuoked. We see daily that mē by reading [Page 221] in Bookes, loue their children; but I neuer sawe heart of man fall in such sort, that by reading and looking in Bookes, hee should despise his children: for in the ende, Bookes are by the words of others made; but children are with their own proper bloud begotten.
Before that any thing of wisedome is begunne, they alwaies regard the inconueniences that may follow: therefore if thou wilt not giue mee this key, and that thou art determined to be stubborne still in thy will, thou shalt lose thy Faustine, thou shalt lose so louing a wife, thou shalt lose the creature wherewith she is bigge, thou shalt lose the authoritie of thy Palace, thou shalt giue occasion to all Rome to speake of thy wickednesse, and this griefe shall neuer depart from thy heart: for the heart shall neuer bee comforted, that knoweth, that he only is the occasion of his owne griefe. If the Gods doe suffer it by their secret indgements, and if my wofull mishappes deserue it, and if thou (my Lord) desirest it for no other cause, but euen to doe after thy will, for denying me this key, I should dye: I would willingly dye. But of that, I thinke, thou wilt repent: for it chanceth often times to wise men, That when remedy is gone, the repentance commeth suddenly: and then it is to late (as they say) to shutte the Stable doore, when the Steede is stolne.
I maruell much at thee (my Lord) why thou shouldest shew thy selfe so froward in this case, since thou knowest, that all the time wee haue beene together, thy will and mine hath alway beene one! If thou wilt not giue me thy key, for that I am thy welbeloued Faustine: if thou wilt not let mee haue it, since I am thy deare beloued wife: if thou wilt not giue it me, for that I am great with childe, I beseech thee giue it mee in vertue of the ancient law: for thou knowest it is an inuiolate lawe among the Romanes, that a man cannot deny his wife with child A law aamong the Romane. her desires. I haue seene sundry times with mine eyes, many women sue their husbands at the lawe in this behalfe: and thou (my Lord) commandest, that a man should not break the priuiledges of women.
Then if this thing bee true (as it is true indeede) why wilt thou that the lawes of strange children should bee kept, and that they should be broken to thine owne children? Speaking according to the reuerence that I owe vnto thee, though thou wouldest, I will not; though thou doest it, I will not agree therunto: & though thou dost command it, in this case I will not obey thee: for if the husband doe not accept the iust request of his wife, the wife is not bound to obey the vniust commaundement of her husband.
You husbands desire that your wiues should serue you, you desire that your wiues should obey you in all, and ye will condiscend to nothing that they desire. You men say, that wee women haue no certaintie in our loue: but indeede you haue no loue at all: For by this it appeareth, that your loue is fayned, in that it no longer continueth then your desires are satisfied.
You say furthermore, that the women are suspitious, and that is true in you all, men may see, and not in vs: for none other cause there are are so many euill marryed in Rome, but because their husbands haue of them such euill opinions.
There is a great difference betweene the suspition of the woman, and the jealousie of the man: for a man will vnderstand the suspition of the woman; it is no other thing, but to shew to her husband that she loueth him with all her heart: [Page 222] for the innocent women know no others, desire no others but their husbands onely; and they would that their husbands should know none others, nor search for any others, nor loue any others, nor will any others, but them onely: for the heart that is bent to loue one only, would not that into that house should euter any other.
But you men know so many means, and vse so many subtilties, that you praise your selues for to offend them, you vaunt your selues to deceiue them, and that it is true, a man can in nothing so much shew his noblenes, as to sustaine and fauour a Curtizan.
The husbands please their wiues speaking vnto thē some merry words, and immediately, their backes being turned, to another they giue both their bodies and their goods. I sweare vnto thee (my Lord) that if women had the libertie and authoritie ouer men, as men haue ouer women, they should finde more malice, deceitfulnesse and craft by them committed in one day, then they should find in the women all the dayes of their life.
You men say, that women are euill speakers, it is true indeede that your tongues are none other, but the stings of Serpents: for yee doe condemne the good men, and defame the Romane women. And thinke not (if you speake euill of other women) to excuse your owne: for the man that by his tongue dishonoureth strange What euill commeth by the tong. women, doth not so much euill, as he doth by defaming his owne wife by suspition: for the husband that suspecteth his wife, giueth all men licence to account her for naught.
Sith wee women goe little out of the house, wee trauaile not farre: and sith wee see few things, though wee would, wee cannot bee euill tongued: But you men heare much, you see much, you know much, you wander abroad much, and continually you murmure.
All the euill that wee silly women can doe, is to listen to our friendes when they are vexed, to chide our seruants when they are negligent, to enuy our neighbours if they be fayre, and to curse those that doe vs iniurie: finally, though wee speake euill, wee cannot murmure, but at those that dwell in the same Streete where wee dwell. But you men defame your wiues by suspition, you dishonour your neighbours in your words, you speake against strangers with crueltie, you neyther keepe faith nor promise to your wiues, you shew your selues extreme against your enemies, you murmure both at those that bee present, and also at them that be absent: finally, on the one part you are so double, and on the other part you are so vnthankefull, that to those whom you desire, you make fayre promises, and those, whose bodies you haue enioyed, you little esteeme.
I confesse that the woman is not so good as shee ought to bee, and that it is necessary that she should be kept What is required in a Woman. in the house, and so shee shall leade a good life; and being of good life, she shall haue good renowme; and hauing good renowme, shee shall bee well willed: but if chaunce any of those doe want in her, yet for all that shee ought not to bee reiected of her husband: For the frailenesse that men finde in women is but little: but the euils that women taste in men is very great.
I haue talked longer then I thought, and haue saide more boldly then I ought, but pardon me (my Lord) for my intention was not to vex thee, but to perswade thee: for in the end he is a foole that taketh that for iniury, which passeth betweene the man and the wife in secret.
I stick alwaies to my first point, & if [Page 223] it neede, once againe I require thee that thou wilt giue me the Key of thy studie: and if thou doe otherwise, (as thou mayest) thou shalt doe such a thing, as thou oughtest not to doe. I am not angry so much for that thou doest, as for the occasion thou giuest me.
Therefore to auoyde the perill of my deliuerie, and to take from me all suspition, I pray thee (my Lord) deliuer me the key of thy studie: for otherwise I cannot be perswaded in my hart, but that you haue a woman locked in your studie. For men that in their youth haue beene vnconstant, though the apparell that they haue be not worne, yet notwithstanding they desire to haue new. Therefore once againe to preserue mee from perill in my deliuery, and to lighten my heart of this thought, it shall be well done that you let mee enter into your studie.
CHAP. XV. ¶ The Aunswere of the Emperour to Faustine, concerning her demand of the key of the Studie.
THe Emperor hearing the wordes of Faustine, and seeing that shee spake them so earnestly, that shee bathed her woefull words with bitter teares, determined also to answere her as earnestly, and saide vnto her these wordes.
Wife Faustine, thou hast tolde mee all that thou wouldest, and I haue hearde all The Emperours answere. thy complaint. Therefore I desire thee now to haue as much patience to heare my aunswere, as I haue had paine to heare thy demaund. And prepare thy eares to heare my words, as I haue listned mine to heare thy Follie. For in like matter, when the tong doth apply it selfe to speake any word, the eares ought immediately to prepare them to heare it, for to make aunswere. For this is most sure, that he that speaketh what hee would, shall heare what hee would not. Before I tell thee what thou art, and what thou oughtest to bee, I will first tell thee what I am, and what I ought to be: For I will thou vnderstand Faustine, that I am so euill, that that the which mine enemyes doe report of me is but a trifle in respect of that which my Familiars and Friends would say if they knew me. To the end the Prince be good, hee ought not to be couetous of Tributes, neyther proude in commaundements, nor What is required of euery Man, vnthankfull of seruices, nor to be forgetfull of the Temples: hee ought not to be deafe to heare griefes, complaintes, and quarrells, nor cruell to Orphanes, nor yet negligent in affaires. And the man that shall want these vices, shalbe both beloued of men, and fauoured of the Gods.
I confesse first of all that I haue bin couetous. For indeed those which with many troubles annoy Princes least, and with Money serue them most, are of all other men best beloued.
Secondarily, I confesse that I am proud: For there is no Prince at this day in the world so brought vnder, but when Fortune is most lowest, he hath his heart very hanghtie.
Thirdly, I confesse that I am vnthankfull: for amongst vs that are Princes, the seruices that they doe vnto vs are great, and the rewardes that we giue vnto them are small.
Fourthly, I doe confesse that I am an euill founder of Temples: for amongst vs that are Princes, wee doe not Sacrifice vnto the Gods very often, vnlesse it be when we see our selues to be enuironned with enemyes.
Fiftly, I confesse that I am negligent to heare the plaintes of the oppressed: for the Flatterers haue towards theys Princes more easie audience by their Flattery, [Page 224] then the poore, pleading to declare theyr complaintes by truth.
Sixtly, I confesse that I am carelesse for the Orphanes: For in the Courtes and Pallaces of Princes the Rich and mightie are most familiar; but the miserable and poore Orphanes are scarcely heard.
Seuenthly, I confesse that I am negligent in dispatching Poore mens causes: For the Princes oft times, not prouiding in time for their affaires, many great perills ensue to theyr Realmes.
Now marke here Faustine: how I haue tolde thee, what (according to reason) I ought to bee, and what according to the sensualitie I am: and maruell not although I confesse mine error. For the man that acknowledgeth his fault, giueth hope of amendment. And let vs come to talke of thee, and by that I haue spoken of me, thou mayest iudge of thy selfe: For we men are so euill conditioned, that we behold the vttermost the offences of an another, but wee will not heare the faultes of our selues. It is a true thing my wife Faustine, that when a woman is merry, she alwaies speaketh more with her tong, then shee knoweth in her heart. For women light of tongue speak many things in companie, the which they doe lament after when they are alone. All the contrarie commeth to wofull men, for they do not speak the halfe of their griefes: because their heauy and wofull hearts commaundeth their eyes to weepe, and tongs to be silent.
Vaine and foolish men, by vaine and foolish words doe publish their vaine What hurt commeth by not gouerning the tongue. and light pleasures: and the wise men by wise wordes, doe dissemble their grieuous sorrowes. For though they feale the troubles of this life, they dissemble them as men. Amongst the Sages hee is most wisest, that presumeth to know least: and amongst the simple he is most ignorant, that thinketh to knowe most. For if there be found one that knoweth much, yet alwayes there is found another that knoweth more.
This is one difference whereby the wise men are knowne from those that be simple, that is to say: That the wise man to one that asketh him a Question, answereth slowly and grauely, and the simple man (though he be not asked) aunswereth quicke and lightly. For in the house where Noblenes and wisedome are, they giue riches without measure, but they giue wordes by ounces. I haue told thee all this Faustine, because thy wordes haue wounded me in such sort, thy teares in such wise haue compelled mee, and thy vaine iudgements haue wearyed mee so much, that I cannot say what I would, nor I thinke thou canst perceiue what I say? Those which wrote of Marriage, wrote many things, but they wrote not so many troubles in al their bookes, as one woman causeth her Husband to feele in one day.
The auncients spake well, when they reasoned of Marriages: for at all times when they talked of Marriage, at the beginning they put these words Crosses incident to Marriage. Onus Matrimonij: That is to say, the yoake of Marriage. For truely if the man be not well maryed, all the troubles that may happen vnto him, in all the time of his life, are but small in respect to be matched one day with an euill wife.
Doest thou thinke Faustine, that it is a small trouble for the Husband to suffer ths brawlings of his wife? to indure her vaine words? to beare with her fond words? to giue her what she requireth? to seeke that she desireth? and to dissemble with all her vanities? Truely it is so vnpatient a trouble, that I would not desire any greater reuengement of my enemy, then to see him marryed with a brawling wife.
If the Husband be proud, you doe humble him: For there is no proude [Page 225] man, whatsoeuer hee be, but a fierce woman will make him stoupe. If the Husband be foolish, you restore him to his senses againe: For there is no greater wisedome in the World, then to knowe how to endure a brawling woman. If the Husband be wilde, you make him tame: For the time is so much that you occupy in brawling that hee can haue no time to speake. If the husband be slow, you make him runne: for he desireth so much your contentation in heart, that the wofull man cannot eate in quiet, nor sleepe in rest. If the Husband be a talker, you make him dumbe: for the flouts and mockes that you giue him at euery word are so many in number, that he hath none other remedie, but to refraine his tongue.
If the Husband bee suspitious, you make him change his minde: For the Trifles that you aske at euery houre are such, and so many, and you therewith so selfe-willed, that hee dare not tell what hee seeth in his owne house. If the husband be a wanderer abroad, you make him forthwith a bider at home: for you looke so ill vnto the house and goods, that hee findeth no other remedie but to bee alwayes at home. If the Husband bee vicious, you restraine him immediately: for you burden his heart with so manie thoughts, that his bodie hath no delight to vse any pleasure. Finally, (I say) that if the husband be peaceable, within short space you make him vnquiet: for your paines are such, so many, and so continuall, that there is no heart can wholly dissemble them, nor Tongue that vtterly can keepe them secret.
Naturally women haue in all things the spirite of contradiction, for so What women naturally are inclined vnto. much as if the Husbands will speake, they will holde their peace. If he go forth, they will tarrie at home: if he will laugh, they will weepe: if hee will take pleasure they will vexe him. If he be sorrowfull, they will be merie. If he desire peace, they would haue war. If he would eate, they will fast, if hee would fast, they would eate. If hee would sleepe, they will watche: and if hee will watche, they will sleepe. Finally I say, that they are of so euill a condition, that they loue all that we despise, and despise all that we loue.
In mine opinion, the men that are wise, and will obtaine that which they desire of their wiues: Let them not demaunde of them that which they would obtaine, if they will come to obtaine their desire. For vnto them which are diseased, the letting of Bloud is most profitable, when the veyne in the contrary side is opened. It is no other thing to be let bloud in the cōtrary side, but to ask of the woman with his mouth, the contrarie of that which he desireth with his heart: for otherwise, neyther by faire words of his mouth, nor by the bitter teares of his eyes, he shal neuer obtaine that which his heart desireth.
I confesse Faustine, it is a pleasant sport to behold the young babes, and thou canst not denie mee, but it is a cruell torment to endure the importunities of their Mothers. Children now and then minister vnto vs occasions of pleasures, but you that are theyr Mothers neuer doe any thing, but that which turneth vs to trouble.
It is much pleasure to the Husband when he commeth home to finde the house cleane swept, to find the Table couered, and to finde the meate ready dressed: this is to be vnderstood, if all other things be well.
But what shall we say when he seeth the contrarie: and that he findeth his children weeping, his, neighbours offended, his Seruants troubled, and aboue all, when hee findeth his Wife brawling? Truly it is better to the wofull Husband, to goe his way fasting: [Page 226] then to tarrie and eate at home with brawling. I durst take vppon mee to cause that all marryed men would be content to forbeareal the pleasures of the Children, with condition that they might be Free from the annoyance of the Mothers: for in the ende the pleasures of the children endeth quickly with laughter, but the griefes of the mothers endureth all their life with sorrow. I haue seene one thing in Rome, wherein I was neuer deceyued, which is, that though men commit great offences in this World, yet God deferreth the punishment thereof vntill another: But if for any womans pleasure we commit any faulte, God permitteth that by the same woman, in this world we shall suffer the paine. There is no crueller enemy to to man, nor more troublessome to liue withall, then the woman is that hee keepeth in his house: for if hee suffer her once to haue her owne will, then let him be assured neuer after to bring her vnto obedience.
The young men of Rome follow the Ladies of Capua, but they may well repent them: For there was neuer man that haunted of any long time the company of womē, but in the end to their procurement, either by death or with infamie he was defaced. For the Gods esteeme the Honour aboue all things, and as they suffer the wickednesse of the euill men, so wee see the sharpe punishments that they ordaine for them.
I am well assured Faustine of one thing (and I do not speake it by heare say,) but because continually I haue prooued it, and it is, that the Husband which condiscendeth to all that the Wife desireth, causeth his wife to do nothing of that her husband commaundeth. For there is nothing that keepeth a woman more vnder obedience to her Husband, then when oftē times he denyeth with sharpe words, her vnlawfull request.
In my opinion it is much crueltie of the barbarous, to keepe (as they doe) theyr wiues like slaues: but it is much more follie of the Romaines, to keepe them (as they doe,) like Ladies. The flesh ought not to bee so leane that it be in eating drie, nor yet so fatte that there be no leane: but it would participate both of the fatte and of the leane, to the intent it might giue the more nourishment. I meane, that the man of vnderstanding ought not to keepe his Wife so short, that shee should seeme to be his seruant, nor yet to giue her so much libertie, that she becometh his Mistresse. For the Husband that suffereth his Wife to commaund more then shee ought, is the cause why hee himselfe afterwardes is not esteemed as he should be.
I Behold Faustine, you women are in all things so extreame, that for a little fauour you waxe proude: and for a little displeasure you become great enemies.
There is no Woman that willingly Women can not endure to haue superiours. can suffer to haue any superiour, nor yet scarcely can endure to haue any equall: for we see that you loue not the highest, nor desire to be loued of the lowest. For where the louers bee not equall, there their loue cannot be perfect. I knowe well Faustine, that thou doest not vnderstand mee, therefore harken what I doe tell thee more then thou thinkest, and more then thou wouldest.
O what and how many women haue I seene in Rome, the which thogh they had two thousand pound of Rent in their heads, yet they had three thousand follyes in their heads: and the worst of all is, that oft times her Husband dyeth, and she looseth her Rent, yet for all that ceaseth not her follie. Now listen Faustine, and I wil tell thee more. All women will speake, and they will that others be silent. All wil [Page 227] commaund, and will not that they be commanded, and they will that all be captiues to them. All will gouerne, and will not be gouerned.
Finally, they all in this one thing agree, and that is, that they wil cherish them that they loue, & reuenge them of those that they hate. Of that which before is said it may be gathered, that they make Fooles and Slaues of the young and vaine men which followe them, and persecute the Wise men, as enemies that flye them. For in the ende where they loue vs moste, their loue may bee measured: but where as they hate vs least, their hate exceedeth reason.
In the Annales of Pompeius I remember I haue read, and do note one thing worthie of knowledge, that Annales of Pompeyus. when Pompeius the Great passed first into Asia, as by chaunce hee came by the mountaines of Rypheos, he found in those places a Barbarous nation, that liued in the sharpe mountains as wild beasts: and doe not maruell that I do call them beastly, that liue in those mountaines. For as the sheepe and Cowes that feede on the fine grasse, haue their wooll softe and fine, so the men who are brought vp in the sharp and wilde mountains, vse themselues after a rude behauiour.
These Barbarous had therefore a law among them, that euery neighbor had in those mountaines two Caues: for the sharpnes of the hills permitted A Law among the Barbarians. not that they shold haue any Houses. Therfore in one caue the Husbands, the Sonnes, and the Seruants were: and in the other his Wife, his daughters, and his handmaids abode: they did eate together twice in the weeke, they slept together other twice in the weeke, and all the residue of the time they were separate the one from the other. The great Pompeyus asked them what was the cause why they liued so? sith it was so, that in all the world there was neuer seene nor read of such extreame law, nor so straunge a custome.
The historie saith in that place, that an auncient man aunswered him, saying: Beholde Pompeius, that the gods haue giuen short life vnto vs that bee present, in respect of that which hee gaue to our Fathers that are past: and since we liue but fortie or fiftie yeares at the vttermost, wee desire to enioy those dayes in peace: For the life is so short, and our trouble so long that we haue smal time to reioyce in peace after we returne from the warres.
It is true that amongst you Romaines which enioy pleasures and riches, life seemeth too shorte, but vnto vs that haue toyle with pouertie, life seemeth too long: For throughout all the yeare wee neuer keepe such solemne Feasts, as when one passeth out of his life.
Consider Pompeius that if men liued many yeares, there shold be time to laugh and weepe, to bee good and to be euill, to be poore and to be rich, to be merrie and sad, to liue in peace and warre: but why wil men seek contention in their life, since it is so short?
In keeping with vs (as you doe) our owne wiues, in liuing wee should die, for the nights should passe in hearing their complaints, and the dayes in suffering their brawlings: but keeping them as we doe, we see not their heauie countenance, wee heare not the crying of our children, wee heare not their grieuous complaintes, nor listen vnto their sorrowfull words, neyther wee are troubled with their importunate suites, and yet the Children are nourished in peace, & the father followeth the warres: so that they are well, and we are better. This was the aunswer that this old man gaue, at the request of the great Pompeius,
Truely Faustine I say, that though wee call the Messagetes Barbarous, in [Page 228] this case they know more then the Latines. For he that is free from a brawling woman, hath escaped no small pestilence.
I aske thee now Faustine, since those barbarous could not agree, nor would not haue their wiues with thē in those sharpe mountains, how shall we other agree and please you that liue in these pleasures in Rome? One thing I will tell thee Faustine, and I beseech the Gods that thou maiest vnderstand it, which is. If the beastly motions of the Flesh did not-force men to will, and also to desire women, I doubt whether there should be any woman in the world beloued or suffered. For though nature giueth them gifts worthie to be beloued: yet they through their smal discretion cause themselues to bee hated. If the gods had made this loue voluntarie, as they made it naturall, so that we might haue loued as wee would, and left againe at our pleasure: that man ought worthily to haue beene punished, which for the loue of any woman would put his life in daunger. The Gods haue kept this great secret vnto themselues, and the misery that they gaue vnto men is very great: since that vnto so weake Flesh, hee gaue so strong a heart, the which doth procure that which doth vs harme, and followeth that which we ought to abhorre.
This is an other secret, that all men know when they offend, but I see no man that seeketh amendment: for I heare all complaine of the flesh, and yet I see all like Butchers followe the flesh: and when it can do least good, then it is most greedie. I enuie not the Gods liuing, nor the men that be dead, saue only for two things, which be these.
First, I enuie the Gods, because they liue without feare of the malicious: Secondarily, I enuie the dead, for that they liue without neede of Women. For Women are so corrupt, that the corrupt all: and they be such mortall plagues, that both flesh and heart by them are brought to ende.
O Faustine, the loue of the flesh is so natural to the flesh, that when from you the body flyeth in sport, wee then leaue our hearts engaged to you in earnest. And thogh reason as reason putteth desire to fleight, yet the flesh flesh, yeeldeth it selfe as prisoner.
CHAP. XXVI. ¶ The Emperour following his matter admonisheth men of the great daungers which ensue vnto them by excessiue haunting the company of women. And reciteth certaine rules for Marryed men, which (if they obserue) may cause them to liue in peace with their Wiues.
I Remember that in my youth, as I was of Flesh, I trembled for seare of the flesh, with minde neuer to returne againe, and I do confesse that ofte times I reuolued in my heart, many holie and chaste meditations: but yet notwithstanding, I gaue my bodie immediately to sundry filthie vices.
It is a naturall thing, that when man hath committed any vice, forthwith he repenteth him of his deede: and The frailty of man. so againe after his new repentance, he turneth to his olde vices.
For during the time that wee liue in this fraile flesh, Sensualitie beareth so great a rule, that shee will not suffer Reason to enter in, at the gate. There is no man in Rome, (if a man doth aske him) but wil maruelto declare with his tongue the thoughts that he hath had in his heart, in especially to be chaste, to be true, to be pacient, [Page 229] and to bee vertuous, and peraduenture ye talke with those that somewhat communicate with them, and let a man enquire of his neighbours' they shall finde that he is a deeyuer' a lyar, and a blasphemer. Finally, they deceyue men by their faire wordes, and offended the Gods, by their euill works.
It profiteth little to Blaze vertues with wordes, if the hand be negligent to worke them in deede: For a man is not called iust, onely desiring to be good in name, but for to labour to be vertuous in workes.
The trayterous Worlde in no one thing beguileth wordlings so much, as by feeding them with vaine hope: saying, That they shall haue time enough to be vertuous; So that these The cause why men ought to endeauor to be vertuous blinde men, when they are once deeply rooted in vices, and whilest they hope for this light of amendment, then suddainly assaulteth them the dreadfull dart of death.
Oh how many haue promised vnto men, and vowed vnto the Gods, and determined with themselues, that before so many dayes they would begin to be vertuous? whom in short space after wee haue seene to engage themselues to the hungrie wormes of the earth? The Gods will that we be vertuous: and for the contrarie, the world and the flesh willeth that wee be vicious.
Mee thinketh that it is better to obey the Gods, then to doe that which the World and the Flesh desireth: for the praise of vertue is honour, and the paine of vice is infamie. If thou dost cōsider Faustine, thou shalt see that the Gods are on the one part, which procureth vs to vertues, and on the other part is the world and the flesh, which enticeth vs vnto vices. My opinion is we should say vnto the Gods that we desire to bee veriuous, and that wee should say to the world and the flesh, that from henceforth we will giue our selues no more to be vicious.
We ought in such case to satisfie the Gods with works, & to entertaine the world and the flesh with words: that How wee ought to to spend our time. we employ so much time in leading a good life, that wee haue no time vacant to speake an idle word.
I let thee know Faustine, that all that I haue tolde thee, I haue spoken it against my selfe: for alwayes from my youth I had a good mind, & yet for all that I haue bin ouerthrown with vices
Oh how manie times in my youth I knew women, I accompanyed with women, I talked with women, and belieued women: the which in the ende haue deceyued mee, misused me, and defamed me? At the last I withdrew my selfe and forsooke them: but I doe confesse, that if reason kept mee from their houses x. dayes, sensualitie kept me with them x. weekes.
Oh cruell Gods, oh wicked worlde, oh fraile flesh, tel me what it meaneth Reason leadeth to vertue, Sensualitie to vice. that reason leadeth me voluntarily to vertues, and that Sensualitie against my will, draweth mee to vices?
Doest thou not thinke Faustine, that I consider what a great good it is for to bee good, and what an euill it is to be euill? But what shall I doe wofull man, since at this day there is not so cruell a scourge of my honour, nor so great an enemie of my renowme, as mine owne flesh is, the which against me doth make such cruel wars? wherfore I beseech the immortall Gods, sith my being here is against my will, that they do defend me in this so cruell war. The fraile flesh is somwhat to blame, but much more is the foolish and light woman in faulte. For if men were certaine that women were chast, shamefast, & solitary, they would not dispose their hearts, their bodyes, nor bende theyr Bowes to shoote at their Buttes: they would not consume their time to folow them, loose their goods [Page 230] to serue them, neither would they suffer so many shames to slaunder them. For where the heart hath no hope to obtaine, there hee will giue ouer his suite.
But what shall we do now Faustine (I pray thee tell me) since thou knowest better then I, that the shame of the Romaine women is now gone, and the women of Italie are so dissolute, that though men do not regard them yet they do entice them: If men flie, they call them: if men go backe, they approach: if men are sad, they make them merrie: if men are silent, they force them to speake: and finally, men beginne their loue in sporte, and they temper it in such sort, that they turne it all into earnest.
I let thee know Faustine, that the meanes whereby Nature worketh in man is very straunge: but the shame which the Gods put in Women, is more maruellous. And if it be true, (as it is true indeed) that the men doe lose the sting of the Flesh, and that the Women doe not lose the shame of the visage: I thinke it is impossible that there should bee a chaste or vertuous woman in Rome. For there is no Common-wealth more vndone, then that where the women haue lost their shame.
O women, what reason haue they which flie from you, which are weary of you, which forsake you, which forget you, which make thēselues straungers, and furthermore, which are dead and buryed.
For the hungrie wormes gnawe in in the graues onely, the fraile and slymie flesh of the dead: but you women destroy the goods, honour, and life of the liuing.
Oh if the Noble heart knewe what euill doth follow them, for dallying with women, I sweare vnto them, that they would not serue them continually as they doe serue them, but also they would haue no lust, nor desire to behold them.
What wilt thou (I say any more to thee Faustine) but that some scape out of your hands for effeminate & slandered, others hurte by your tongues, others persecuted with your works, others deceyued with your contenances, others despised through your hatred, others desperate through your inconstancie, others condemned by your light iudgements, others troubled throughly our vnkindenesse: Finally, those that escape best, are of your hearts abhorred, and through your follies destoyed.
Then since the man knoweth that he must passe all these dangers, I can not tell what foole hee is, that will eyther loue or serue you? For the brute Beast that once hath felte the sharpe teeth of the dogges, will vnwillingly euermore after come neare vnto the stake.
Oh vnto what perill doeth he offer himself, which continually doth haunt the company of women? For as much as if hee loue them not, they despise him, and take him for a Foole. If hee doth loue them, they account him for light.
If hee forsake them, they esteeme him for no bodie. If he follow them, What dangers are incident to men by following women. he is acounted lost. If he serue them, they doe not regarde him. If he doe not serue them, they despise him. If he will haue them, they wil not. If he will not, they persecute him. If hee doe aduaunce himselfe forth, they call him importunate. If he flie, they say he is a cowarde. If he speake, they say he is a bragger. If he holde his peace, they say he is a dissarde. If hee laugh, they say he is a foole. If he laugh not, they say he is solemne. If hee giueth them anie thing, they say it is little worth: and he that giueth them nothing, hee is a pinche-purse. Finally, hee that haunteth them, is by them slandered: [Page 231] and he that doeth not frequent them, is esteemed lesse then a man.
These things so seene, heard, and so knowne, what shall the poore and miserable men doe, in especially, if he be a man of vnderstanding? For though hee would absent himselfe from women, the flesh doeth not giue him licence: and though hee would follow Women, wisedome will not condescend.
Now some men suppose in all theyr thoughts, that by seruices and pleasures they may content women. But I let them know (if they know it not) that the woman is neuer contented, Women neuer contented. though man doth what hee can, as a maid, and that he do all that he ought to do as a husband: though he taketh painesfor her sake aboue his force, and though with the sweat of his browes he relieueth her neede: though euery houre he putteth himselfe in daunger, yet in the ende shee will giue him no thanks, but wil say that he loueth another, and how hee doeth that but to please and satisfie her. It is a long time since I desired to tell thee this Faustine, but I haue deferred it vntill this present houre, hoping thou wouldest not giue occasion to tell it thee: For amongst wise men those wordes ought chiefly to bee esteemed, which fitly to the purpose are declared.
I remember that it is six yeares past since Antonius Pius (thy Father) chose me to bee his Sonne in law, and that thou chosest mee for thy Husband, and I thee for my wife: all the which things were done, my wofull aduentures permitting it, and Adrian (my Lord) commaunding it.
The good Anthonius Pius gaue his onely daughter in marriage vnto me, and gaue mee likewise his Noble Empire with great treasures: Hee gaue mee also the gardens of Vulcanali, to passe the time therein. But I thinke on both sides we were deceiued: He in chosing mee for his Sonne in law, and I, in taking thee for my wife.
Oh Fanstine, thy Father, and my Father in law, was called Anthontus Pius, because to all hee was mercifull, saue only to mee, vnto whom he was most cruell: For with a little flesh he gaue me many bones. And I confesse the truth vnto thee, that now I haue no more teeth to bite, nor heate in my stomacke to digest: and the worst of all is, that many times I haue thought to rage on my selfe. I will tell thee one word, though it doeth displease thee, (which is) that for thy beautie thou art desired of manie, and for thy euill conditions, thou art despised of all. For the faire women are like vnto Women cō pared to golden pilles. the golden pilles: the which in sight are very pleasant, and in eating very noysome.
Thou knowest well Faustine, and I also, that wee saw on a day Drusio, and Braxille his Wife, which were our neighbours, and as they were brawling together, I spake vnto Drusio such wordes;
What meaneth this, (my Lorde Drusio?) that being now the Feast of Berecinthia, and being as we are adioyuing to her house, and present before so honorable an assemblie, & furthermore, thy wife being so faire as she is, How is it possible there should bee any strife betweene you?
Men which are marryed to deformed persons, to the ende that they might kil them quickly, should always fall out with their Wiues: but those that are married to faire women, they ought alwayes to liue together, in ioy and pleasure, to the end they may liue long.
For when a faire woman dyeth, although shee haue liued an hundred yeares, yet shee dyeth too soone, and on the contrarie, though a deformed woman liueth but a small time, yet notwithstanding shee dyeth too late.
[Page 232] Drusio as a man being vexed, lifting vp his eyes vnto the heauens, fetching a grieuous sigh from the bottome of his hart, said these words as followeth
The Mother Berecinthia pardon me, and her holy house also, and all the companie besides, forgiue mee: for by the immortall The speech of Drusio, gods I sweare vnto thee, that I had rather haue beene Marryed with a Moore of Chalde that is so fowle, then being marryed as I am, with a Romaine beeing very faire: For shee is not so faire and white, as my life is wofull and blacke.
Thou knowest well Faustine, that when Drusio spake these wordes, I did wipe the teares from his eyes, and I gaue him a word in his eare, that hee should proceede no further in this matter: For such women ought to be chastened in secret, and afterwards to be honoured openly.
Oh thou art most vnfortunate Faustine, and the Gods haue euill deuided with thee, giuing thee beautie and riches to vndoe thy selfe: and denying thee the best, which is wisedome and good conditions to keepe thy honor. O what euil lucke cōmeth vnto a man, when God sendeth him a faire daughter, vnlesse furthermore the Gods doe permit that shee be sage, and honest: for the womā which is yong, foolish, and faire, destroyeth the Commonwealth, & defameth all her parentage.
I say vnto thee againe Faustine, that the gods were very cruel against thee since they swallowe thee vppe by the goulfes, where all the euill perisheth, and tooke from thee all the sayles and What inconuenience follow those that are discontented in marriage. owers, whereby the good doe escape. I remained xxxviij. yeares vnmarried, and these vj. yeares only which I haue bin married, mee thinketh I haue passed vj. hundreth yeares of my life: for nothing can bee called a torment, but the euil that man doth suffer, that is euill married. I will assure thee of one thing Faustine, that if I had knowne before, that which now I knowe, and that I had felt that which now I feele, though the Gods had cōmanded me, and the Emperour Adrian my Lorde desired mee, I had not chaunged my pouerty for thy riches, neither my rest for thy Empire: But since it is fallen to thine and mine euill fortunes, I am contented to speake little, and to suffer much.
I haue so much dissembled with thee Faustine, that I can no more: but I confesse vnto thee, that no Husband doth suffer his wife so much, but that hee is bound to suffer her more, considering that hee is a man, and that she is a woman. For the man which willingly goeth into the bryers, he must thinke before to endure the prickes.
The Woman is too bolde that doeth contend with her Husband: but that Husband is more foole, which openly quarrelleth with his wife. For if shee be good, hee ought to fauour her, to the end that she may be better: if she be vnhappie, he ought to suffer her, to the end she be not worse. Truly when the woman thinketh that her husband taketh her for eulll, it is a great occasion to make her to be worse: For women are so ambitious, that those who cōmonly are euil, wil make vs belieue that they are better then the others. How euery man & woman ought to behaue themselues.
Belieue me Faustine, that if the feare of the gods, the infamy of the person, & the speech of men, do not restraine the woman, all the chastisements of the worlde, will not make her refraine from vice: for all things suffereth chastisement and correction, the woman only except, the which must be wonne by intreatie.
The heart of the man is very noble, and that of the woman very delicate, because for a little good, hee will giue a great rewarde: and for a great offence hee will giue no punishment.
Before the wise man marieth, it behoueth him to beware what he doth, and [Page 233] when hee shall determine to take the companie of a Woman, he ought to be like vnto him that entreth into the warre, that determineth with himselfe to suffer all that may happen, bee it good or euill. I doe not call that life a warre without a cause, which the euill married man leadeth in his house: For women doe more hurt with their tongues, then the enemyes doe with theyr swords. It is a great simplicity for a wise man to make account, or esteeme What hurte cometh by misgouerning the tongue. the simplicitie of his wife at euery time: For if they would marke, and take heed to that which their wife doth, or saith. I let them know that they shall neuer haue an end.
O Faustine, if the Romaine women would alwayes one thing, that they would procure one thing, that they would bee resolued in one thing, although it were to our great charges, wee should haue pleasure to condescend vnto their desires: but what shall wee doe? since that which now pleaseth you, a while after displeaseth you? that which you aske in the morning, yee will not haue at noone: that which you enioy at noone dayes, doeth trouble you in the night: that which in the night you loue, yee care not for in the morning: that which yesterday ye greatly esteemed, to day asmuch ye despise.
If yee desired to see a thing the last yeare, this yeare ye wil not heare talke of it: that which before made you to reioice, doth now make you to be sad: that which yee were wont and ought tolament, at the selfe same thing, a man seeth you laugh.
Finally, ye women are as children, which are appeased with an apple, and casteth the golde to the earth, as not weyghing it. I haue diuers times thought with my selfe, if I could say, or write any good Rule, in keeping the which I might teache men to bee quiet in their houses: And by my account I finde (hauing experimented it also with thee Faustine,) that it is vnpossible to giue a rule to Marryed men: and if a man could giue them, they should scarcely profite therewith, since theyr Wiues liue without rule.
But yet notwithstanding that, I wil declare some Rules, how the marryed folks should keepe themselues in their houses: and how they shall, (if they list), auoyde strifes and debates betweene them. For the Husbands and the Wiues hauing warres together, it is impossible there should be peace in the Common-wealth. And though this present writing hath not profited me, vnluckie and vnfortunate man: yet it may profite others, which haue good wiues. For oft times the Medicin How marryed folkes ought to carry themselues. which profiteth not for the tender Eyes, sufficeth to heale the harde heeles.
I know well Faustine, that for that I haue saide, and for that I will say vnto thee, thou and others such like, shall greatly enuie me. Yee will marke the words that I speake, more then the intention that I meane: but I protest before the Gods, that in this case my ende is for no other intent, but to aduertise the good, whereof there are a great manie: and to punish the euill, which are many moe. And although perchaunce neyther the one nor the other wil belieue that my intention in speaking these things was good: yet therefore I will not cease to know the good from the euil, and to choose the euill from the good. For in my fantasie the good-wife is as the Feasaunt, whose feathers wee little esteeme, and regard much the body: but the euill woman is as the Marterne, whose skin we greatly esteem, and vtterly despise the Flesh.
I will therefore declare the Rules, whereby the Husbandes may liue in peace with their owne proper wiues.
The Rules are these.
THe first, the husband must needs haue patience, and suffer his wife Rules for euery man to followe that meanes to liue in peace, when shee is displeased: for in Lybia there is no Serpent so spitefulll, as an euill woman when shee is vexed.
The second, the Husband ought to prouide for his wife (according to his abilitie) all that is necessary for her, as well for her person, as for her house: for oft times it chaunceth, that women seeking things necessarie, finde things superfluous, and not very honest.
The third, the Husband ought to prouide that his wife doe keepe good companie: for women oft times are more troubled, with the wordes that their euill Neighbours speake against them, then for any occasion that their Husbands giue them.
The fourth, that the husband ought to vse a meane, that his Wife be not too much a subiect, nor that she stray too much abroad: for the Woman that gaddeth much in the streetes, both loseth her good name, and spendeth his goods.
The fifth, the Husband ought to take heede, that hee striueth not so with his wife that she be brought past shame: for the woman that towards her Husband is shamelesse, hath no respect what dishonestie shee committeth.
The sixt, the Husband ought to let his wife vnderstand that he doth trust her: for the woman is of such condition, that that which a wise man wold not shee should doe, shee will doe soonest: and that wherein she should take paines, she will doe nothing.
The seuenth, the Husband ought to bee circumspect, that hee doe not wholly trust his Wife with the goods and treasours of the house, nor yet vtterly distrust her: For if the wife haue the charge of the goods of the house, truely shee will augment little, and if the Husband doe suspect her, she will steale much.
The eight, the Husband ought to looke vpon his wife merrily, and at other times againe sadly: For women are of such condition, that when their Husbands shew them a merrie countenance they loue them: and when they shewe themselues demure, they feare them.
The ninth, the husband ought (if he bee wise,) in this to take good aduisement, that his wife quarrell not with his neighbors: For we haue ofttimes seene in Rome, that for the quarrell of his Wife against his neighbours, the Husband hath lost his life, shee hath lost her goods, and a slaunder hath risen throughout the Commonwealth.
The tenth, the Husband ought to be so patient, that if he saw his wife commit any fault, that in no wise he shold correct her openly, but in secret: For the husband that correcteth his wife before witnes, doth as he which spitteth into the element, and the spittle falleth againe into his eyes.
The eleuenth, the Husband ought to haue much temperance, lest he lay hands on his wife to punish her: For truly the wife that with sharpe words doth not amend, with all the chastisements of the worlde will neuer bee good.
The twelfth, if the Husband will be quiet with his wife, he ought to praise her before his neighbours and straungers: For amongst all other things, women haue this propertie, that of all they would be praised, and of none corrected.
The thirteenth, the Husband ought to beware to praise any other then his owne Wife, shee beeing present: For women are of this condition, that the same day that her Husband commendeth anie other Woman, [Page 235] the same day his wife will cast him out of her heart, thinking that he loueth another and despiseth her.
The foureteenth: The husband ought to make his wife beleeue that she is fayre, though indeede shee bee foule: for there is betweene them no greater strife, then to thinke that her husband forsaketh her for being foule.
The fifteenth: The husband ought to put his wife in remembrance of the infamy that they speake of them that bee euill in the Citie: for women are glorious; and because they would be loth that men should talke such things by them as they talke of others, peraduenture they will refrayne from those vices that others commit.
The sixteenth: the husband ought to take heede that his wife accept no new friends: for through accepting of new friends, there grow commonly betweene them great discention.
The seuenteenth: The husband ought to take heede that his wife beleeue that he loueth not them whome shee hateth: for women are of such a condition, that if the husbands loueth all them that they hate, immediately they will hate all those which they loue.
The eighteenth: The husband ought sometime in matters, which are not preiudiciall vnto him, confesse himselfe to be ouercome: for women desire rather to be counted the best in reasoning, (though it be of no value) then to haue otherwise a greater Iewell giuen them.
In this sort, Faustine, I will say no more to thee, but wish, that thou shouldest see what I see, and feele what I feele: and aboue all, that my dissimulation should suffice to amend thy life.
CHAP. XVII. The Emperour answereth more particularly concerning the Key of his Studie.
NOw Faustine, since I haue the olde venome from my heart expelled, I will answere to thy present demand: for vnto demaunds and answeres that passeth betweene the Sages, the tong ought neuer to speake word, but that first he aske the heart licence. And it is a generall rule amongst the Phisitians, that the medicines doe not profite the sicke, vnlesse they first take away the opilations of the stomacke, I meane by this, that no man can speake to his friend (as he ought) vnlesse before hee sheweth what thing grieueth him: for it is better to repayre the roufes of the houses that be old, then to goe about to build them new.
Thou requirest, Faustine, that I giue thee the key of my Studie, and thou dost threaten mee, that if I giue it not vnto thee, that thou shalt forthwith bee deliuered. I maruell not at that thou sayest, neyther am I abasht of that thou demaundest, nor yet of that that thou wouldest doe: for you women are very extreame in your desires, Women extreame in their demands. very suspicious in your demands, very obstinate in your willes, and as vnpatient in your sufferings. I say not without a cause that women are extreame in their desires: for there are thinges whereof women are so desirous, that it is wonder though neuer liuing creature saw them, nor heard speake of them. I haue not sayd without a cause that women are suspicious in their demands: for the Romane women are of such a condition, that as soone as a woman desireth any thing, she forthwith commandeth the tong [Page 236] to aske it, the feete to seeke it, the eies to see it, the hands to feele it, and likewise the heart to loue it. I say not without a cause that women are obstinate in their willes: for if a Romane woman beareth any malice to any man, shee will not forbeare to accuse him for any slaunder, nor faile to pursue him for any pouertie, nor feare to kill him for any Iustice. I say not without a cause that women are vnpatient to suffer: for many are of such condition (I say not all) that if a man giue not speedily that which they desire, they change their colour, their eyes looke redde, their tongues runne A froward Woman described. quicke, their voyces are sharpe, they frette with themselues, they trouble their neighbours abroad, and are so out of order, that no man dare speake vnto them within. You haue this good trade among yee women, that vnder colour of being with childe, you will that your husbands grant yee all your desires. When the sacred Senate, in the time of the valliant Camillus, made a law in the fauour of the Romane Matrons with childe, the women at that time longed not so much as they doe at this present: but I cannot tell what this presently meaneth, that all ye are anoynted with that that is good, and that yee are all desirous of that that is euill.
I will tell thee, Faustine, the occasion why this lawe was made in Rome, and thereby thou shalt see if thou deseruest to enioy the priuiledge thereof or no: for the lawes are but as yokes vnder the which the euill doth labour, and the wings wherewith the good doe flye. The case thereof was such, that Camillus, the valiant Captaine, went forth to the warres, hee made a solemne vow to the mother Berecinthia, that if the Gods gaue him the victory, hee would offer vnto her an Image of siluer: and after Camillus wanne the victory, and that he would haue accomplished his vow to the mother Berecinthia, neyther had he any riches, nor Rome had any siluer: for at that time Rome was rich of vertues, and poore of money. Rome in ancient times rich in vertues.
And know thou, Faustine, that our ancient Fathers were deuout towards the Gods, and curious in repayring the Temples, the which they esteemed to be great deuotions: and they were in such sort obserued of their vowes, that neither for sloth nor pouertie they would omit their promises towards their Gods. And in these things they were so precise, that they graunted to no man any triumph, vnlesse he did sweare that he had vnto the Gods made a vow, and afterwards also proued how he performed it.
At that time flourished in Rome many vertuous Romanes, and many Greeke Philosophers, many hardie Captaines, and many sumptuous Buildings: and aboue all things, Rome was vnpeopled of malicies, and adorned with vertuous Ladies.
The Historiographers made (and not without a cause) great account of these vertuous Matrons: for the Common-wealth hath as much need of vertuous Women, as the Warres haue of valiant Captaines. They being therefore (as they were) so vertuous and so Noble Matrons, (without the motion of any woman) determined all to goe into the high Capitoll, and there to offer all their Iewels and Treasures that they had, their Chains, their Rings, their Garments, their Bracelets, their Girdles, their Buttons, and Hangers of Gold, Siluer, and precious Stones of all sorts, with all their Tablets.
The Annales of this time say, that after the Romane women had layd so great a multitude of riches at the feet of the sacred Senate, in the name of of them all, one of them spake, whose name was called Lucina, and sayd in [Page 237] this sort: Fathers conscript, esteeme not much these our Iewels, which we giue you to make the Image of the mother Berecinthia: but esteeme much this, that wee willingly put in ieopardie our husbands and children, to winne you the victorie. And in this case you accept our poore seruice, haue no respect to the little which wee doe offer: but to the great which (if we were able) we would giue.
Truely, the Romanes, though the treasure which their wiues offered was great: yet notwithstanding, they did more esteeme the good will wherewith they gaue it, then they did the gifts themselues: for there was so much, indeed, that sufficed both to make the Image of the Goddesse Berecinthia, and also for a long time to maintaine the Warres. Therefore from that day that those Matrons presented their Iewels in the high Capitoll, the Senate forthwith in remembrance of the gentlenesse, graunted them these fiue things as a priuiledge: for at that time Rome neuer receiued seruice or benefite of any person, but Shee rewarded it with double payment.
The first thing that the Senate granted the Romane Women was; That in the day of their buriall, the Oraters Fiue things granted to the Matrones of Rome. might openly make Orations in the prayse of their liues: for, in olde time men vsed neyther to exalt them when they were dead, nor yet to accompany them to their graues.
The second thing that was graunted vnto them was; That they might sit in the Temples: for, in the olde time, when the Romanes did offer Sacrifices to their Gods, the aged did alwayes sit, the Priests kneele, the marryed men did leane; but the women, though they were of Noble and high linage, could neyther be suffered to talke, sit, nor leane.
The third thing that the Senate granted the women of Rome was; That euery one of them might haue two rich Gownes, and that they should not aske the Senate leaue to weare them: for, in the old time, if any woman were apparelled, or did buy any new Gowne without asking licence of the Senate, she should immediately lose her Gowne; and because her husband did condiscend vnto the same, he was banished the Common-wealth.
The fourth thing which they granted them was; That they should drinke Wine when they were sicke: for there was in Rome a custome inuiolable, that though their life was in hazard, they durst not drinke wine, but water: for, when Rome was well corrected, a woman that drunke wine was as much slandered among the people, as if she had committed Adultery towards her husband.
The fith thing granted by the Senate vnto the women was; That a man might not deny a Romane, being with childe, any honest and lawfull thing that she demanded. I cannot tell why the Ancients of Rome esteemed more of women with childe, then others that had no children.
All these fiue thinges were iustly granted to the Matrons and Noble Romane Ladyes. And I can tell thee, Faustine, that they were of the Senate most willingly granted: for it is reason that women, which in vertues doe excell, should with all meanes be honoured.
I will tell thee, Faustine, the especiall cause that mooued the Romanes to grant vnto you Matrones this last priuiledge: that is to say, That a man cannot deny them any thing being with child.
Thou oughtest to know, that the others (as well Greekes as Latines) did neuer giue Lawes nor Institutions vnto their people without great occasions: for the great multitude of lawes are commonly euill kept; and on the other part, are cause of sundry troubles. We cannot deny, but that the Ancients did well auoyde the great number of Institutions: for it is better [Page 238] for a man to liue as reason commandeth him, then as the lawe constraineth him.
The case therefore was, that in the yeere of the foundation of Rome, 364. Fuluius Torquatus then being Consull, in the warre against the Volces, the Knights of Mauritania brought to Rome an huge Monster with one eye, called Monoculus, which he had found in the Desarts of Aegipt, at the time the wife of Torquatus, called Macrina, should haue beene deliuered of child; for the Consull did leaue her great.
This Macrina amongst all was so honest, that they spent as much time in Rome to praise her for her vertues, as they did set foorth her husband for his Victories.
They read in the Annalles of that time, That the first time that this Consull Torquatus went into Asia, he was eleuen yeeres out of his Country; and his found for a truth, that in all The commendation of a vertuous woman. the time that Torquatus was absent, his wife was neuer seene to looke out at the window, which was not a thing smally esteemed: for though it was a custome in Rome to keepe the doore shut: it was lawfull notwistanding to speake to women at the windowes. Though men at that time were not so bold, and the women were so honest, yet Macrina, wife to Torquatus, liued so close & solitary to her selfe, that in all these eleuen yeeres there was neuer man that saw her goe through Rome, or that euer saw her doore open, neither that shee consented at any time (from the time that shee was eight yeeres of age) that any man should enter into her house: and moreouer, there was neuer man saw her face wholly vncouered. This Romane Ladie did this, to leaue of her a memorie, and to giue example of her vertue.
She had also three children, whereof the eldest was but fiue yeeres olde: and so when they were eight yeeres of age, immediately shee sent them out of her house towards their Parents, lest, vnder the colour to visite the children, others should come to visite her.
O Faustine, how many haue I heard that haue lamented this excellent Romane! and what will they thinke that shall follow her life? Who could presently restrain a Romane woman from going to the window eleuen yeeres, since things now adayes are so dissolute, that they doe not onely desire to see them, but also run in the Streetes, to babble of them?
Who should cause now adayes a Romane woman, that in the eleuen yeeres she should not open her dores, since it is so, that when the husband commaunded her to shut one doore, she will make the whole house to ring of her voyce? Hee that now would commaund his wife to tarry at home, and let her of her vagaries into the Towne, shall perceiue that there is no Basiliske nor Viper that carryeth such poison in her taile, as she will spit with her tongue.
Who could make a Romane woman to bee eleuen yeeres continually without shewing her face to any man, since it is so, that they spend the most part of their time in looking in a Glasse, setting their Ruffes, brushing their Cloathes, and painting their faces?
Who would cause a Romane woman to keepe her selfe eleuen yeeres from being visited of her Neighbors and Friends, since it is true, that now women thinke them greatest enemies which visite them most seldome?
Returning therefore to the Monster. As they led this Monster before the doore of Torquatus his house, she being great with childe, and her husband in the warre, by chance a Mayde of his told her how that this Monster passed by, wherefore so great a desire [Page 239] tooke her to see the Monster, that for to keepe that she had begun, suddenly for this desire she dyed.
Truely, I tell thee, Faustine, that this Monster had passed many times by the Streete where she dwelt, and she would neuer notwithstanding go to the window, and much lesse out of her doore to see it.
The death of this Romane of many was lamented: for it was a long time that Rome had neuer heard of so honest and vertuous a Romane; wherefore at the petition of all the Romane people, and by the commaundement of all the sacred Senate, they set on her Tombe these verses.
BEhold therefore, Faustine, In my opinion, the law was not made to remedie the death of this Noble Romane, since she was already dead; but to the end, that you Princesses should take example of her life, and that through all Rome there should bee a memory of her death. It is reason, since the law was ordayned for those women which are honest, that it should be obserued in none, but vpon those that are vertuous: let the women with childe marke the words of the lawe, which commaund them to aske things honest. Wherefore I let thee know, Faustine, that in the seuenth Table of our lawes are written these words: We will, that where there is corruption of manners, the man shall not be bound to obserue their liberties.
CHAP. XVIII. That Princesses and Noble Women ought not to bee ashamed to giue their children sucke with their owne brests.
ALl Noble men that are of hauty courage watch continually to bring that to effect which they couet, and to keepe that which they haue: for, by slrength one commeth to honour: and by wisedome, Honour and life are both preserued.
By these words I meane, That she that hath born nine months (through trauaile) the creature in her wombe, with so much paine, and that afterwards is deliuered with so great peril, and by the grace of God, from so many dangers escaped, me thinks it is not well, that in this point (which for the nourishment of the babe is most expedient) the Mothers should shew them so negligent: for that wanteth no folly, that by extreame labour is procured, and with much lightnesse afterwards despised. The things that women naturally desire are infinite, among the which, these are foure chiefely.
The first thing that women desire, is Foure things which women naturally desire. to be very fayre: for they had rather bee poore and fayre, then to be rich and foule.
The second thing which they desire, [...] is to see themselues marryed: for vntil such time as the woman doe see her selfe marryed, from the bottome of her heart she alwayes sigheth.
The third thing that women desire, is to see themselues great with childe, and herein they haue reason: for vntill such time as the woman hath had a childe, it seemeth that shee taketh him more for a Louer then for a Husband.
The fourth thing that they desire, is to [Page 240] see themselues deliuered; and in this case, more then all the rest, they haue reason: for it is great pittie to see in the prime time a young tree loaden with blossomes, and afterward the fruit to bee destroyed through the abundance of Caterpillers.
Then since God sussereth that they are borne fayre, that they see themselues marryed, that they bee with childe, and that they are deliuered; why be they so vnkinde, as to send them out of their houses, to bee nourished in other rude Cottages?
In my opinion, the woman that is vertuous, ought as soone as she is deliuered, to lift vp her eyes, and with her heart to giue God thankes for her fruit: for the woman, that from her deliuery is escaped, ought to acount her selfe as one newly borne. The woman likewise, seeing her selfe deliuered of her creature, ought to giue it sucke with her owne brests: for it is a monstrous thing, that she that hath brought forth the creature out of her owne proper wombe, should giue it to bee nourished of a strange dugge. In speaking more plainely, (it is all one to mee whether she be a Noble woman, or a woman of meane condition) I say and affirme, that GOD Women bound by Gods Law to giue her children sucke. hath deliuered her of all her trauaile, shee her selfe ought with her owne pappes to nourish and giue sucke to their babes: for nature did not onely make women able to beare men, but also besides that, prouided milke in their brests, to nourish their children. We haue neither read vntill this present, nor seene, that any beasts (wilde or tame) after they had young, would commit them to any other to be nourished.
This which I haue spoken is not so worthy of noting, as that which I will speake; and it is, That many beasts new borne, before they open their eyes to know their fathers, haue now already taken nourishment in the teates of their mothers: and more then that, to see some of those little beasts haue tenne little whelpes, the which, without the ayde of any others, nourished them all with the substance of their owne teates: and the woman that hath but one childe disdayneth to giue it sucke. The example of dumb creatures may teach women to bring vp their owne children.
All that shall reade this writing shall find it true, and if they will, they may see as I haue seene it by experience, that after the she Ape hath had her yonglings, she alwaies hath them in her armes so long as they sucke, so that ofentimes there is such strife betweene the male & the female, which of them shall haue the younglings in their armes, that the beholders are enforced to part them with bats.
Let vs leaue the Beasts that are in the Fields, and talke of the Birds that are in the nests, the which doe lay egges to haue young, yet haue they no milke to bring them vp. What thing is so strange to see, as a small Bird that hath vnder her wings fiue or sixe little naked Birds, the which when he hath hatched, she hath neither milk to nourish thē, nor corne to giue them; they haue neyther wings to flye, fethers to couer them, nor any other thing to defend them: yet in all this weakenesse and pouertie, their mother forsaketh them not, nor committeth them to any other, but bringeth them vp all her selfe.
That which nature prouided for the Swannes is no lesse maruellous, in especially when they nourish their young Signets in the water: for as much as during the time that they cannot swimme, the mothers alwaies in the day are with their yong Signets in theis nests, and in the night the fathers carry them vnder their proper wings (to refresh them) vnto the water. It is therefore to be thought, since these Swannes so louingly beare their younglings vnder their wings, that [Page 241] they would carry them in their armes if they were men, and also giue them sucke with their owne brests if they were women. Aristotle sayeth, in his fift booke De animalibus, that the Lyons, Arist. de Animal. the Beares, the Wolues, the Eagles, and Griffins, and generally all Beasts, neuer are, were, nor shall be seene so fierce nor so cruell, as when they haue younglings: and this thing seemeth to bee true: for at that time, we see that many beasts might escape the hunters, yet to saue their younglings they turne backe and put their proper liues in danger. Plato saith in his booke of Lawes, that the children are neuer so wel beloued of their mothers, as when they are nourished with their proper brests, & that their fathers danceth them on their knees. The which thing is true: for the first loue in all things is the truest loue.
I was willing to shew the bringing vp of bruit beasts, to shew the women with childe how pittifull parents they are in nourishing their younglings with their owne brests: and how cruell Mothers Women are, in committing their children to strangers. It is a maruellous thing to heare the mothers say, that they loue their children; and on the contrary side to see how they hate them. In this case I cannot tell whether they loue more, eyther the childe or the money: for I see that they couet greatly to hourd vp riches into their Chests; and likewise, they desire as much to cast out their children out of their houses. There are diuers reasons whereby the mothers ought to bee moued to nourish their children (which they bare in ther wombs) with their owne proper brests.
The first reason is, that the mother ought to haue respect how the yong babe was borne alone, how little hee was, how poore, delicate, naked, tender, and without vnderstanding: and since that the mother brought it forth so weake and feeble, it is neither meet nor conuenient, that in time of such necessitie shee should forsake it, and commit it into the hands of a strange Nurse. Let women pardon me, whether they bee Ladyes, brought vp in pleasures, or other of meaner estate, accustomed with trauels, I force not: but I say, that those which forsake their children in such extremities are not pittifull mothers, but cruell enemies. The description of children in their infancie. If it bee crueltie, not to cloath him that is naked, who is more naked then the childe new borne? if it bee crueltie not to comfort the sad; who is more sad, desolate and sorrowfull, then the childe which is borne weeping? If it be vngentlenes not to succour the poore needy; who is more needy, or more poore then the innocent childe newly borne, that knoweth not as yet neyther to goe, nor to speake? If it bee crueltie to doe euill to the innocent that cannot speake; who is more innocent then the infant that cannot complaine of that which is done vnto him? The mother that casteth out of her house the children borne of her owne body, how can we beleeue that she will receiue in any other of strangers? when the infant is now great, when hee is strong, when he can speake, when he can goe, when hee can profite himselfe, and get his meate, the mother maketh much of him, and leadeth him about with her: but is little thanke vnto her: for then the mother hath more neede of the childe to bee serued, then the childe hath of the mother to be cherished. If the children were born of the nailes of the fingers of the feete, or of the hands, it were a small matter though their mothers sent them forth to nourish: but I cannot tell what heart can endure to suffer this, since the child is borne of their proper intrailes, that they do cōmit it (to be broght vp) into [Page 242] the hands of a stranger. Is there (peraduenture) at this day in the world any Lady, that hath so great cōfidence in any of her friends, parents, or neighbours, that she durst trust any of them with the key of her coffer, wherin her lewels, money, and riches lyeth? truely, I thinke none. O vnkind mothers! my pen had almost called you cruell stepmothers, since you lay vp in your heart the cursed mucke of the ground, and send out of your houses that which sprang of your bloud. And if women should say vnto mee that they are weake, feeble, and tender, and that now they haue found a good Nurse: to this I answere, that the Nurse hath smal loue to the child which she nourisheth, when she seeth the vngentlenesse of the mother that bare it: for truly, she alone doth nourish the childe with loue, that heeretofore hath borne it with paine.
The second reason is, that it is a What loue women ought to beare their children. thing very iust, that women should nourish their children, to the ende they may bee like vnto their conditions: for otherwise they are no children, but are enemies: for the childe that doeth not reuerence his mother that bare him, cannot enioy a prosperous life. Since the intention of the parents, in bringing vp their children, is for none other purpose, but to bee serued of them when they are olde: they shall vnderstand, that for this purpose there is nothing more necessary then the milke of the proper mother: for where the childe sucketh the milke of a stranger, it is vnlikely that it should haue the conditions of the mother. If a Kid sucke a Sheepe, they shall perceiue, it shall haue the wooll more faire, & the nature more gentle, then if he had sucked the Goat, which hath the wooll more hard, and of nature is more wilde; wherein the Prouerbe is verified, Not from whence thou commest, but whereof thou feedest.
It auayleth a man much to haue a good inclination: but it helpeth him much more, from his infancy to bee well taught: for in the end we profite more with the customes wherewith we liue, then we doe by nature from whence we came.
The third reason is, that women ought to nourish their owne children, because they should bee whole mothers, and not vnperfect: for the woman is counted but halfe a mother that beareth it, and likewise, halfe a mother that nourisheth it: but she is the whole mother, that both beareth it, and nourisheth it. After the duetie considered vnto the Father, that hath created vs, and vnto the Sonne, that hath redeemed vs, mee thinketh next we owe the greatest dutie vnto the Mother, that hath borne vs in her bodie: and much more it is that wee should beare vnto her, if she had nourished vs with her owne brests: for when the good child shall behold his mother, hee ought more to loue her because shee nourished him with her milke: then because shee hath borne him in her body.
CHAP. XIX. The Authour still perswadeth women to giue their owne children sucke.
IN the yeere of the foundation of Rome, fiue hundred & two, after the obstinate and cruell warre betweene Rome and Carthage, where the renowmed Captaines were, Hanibal for the Carthaginians, and Scipio for the Romanes: Soone after that warre followed the warre of Macedonia, against King Philip. The which, when it was ended, that of Syria began; against Antiochus, King of Syria: [Page 243] for in sixe hundred and thirty yeeres the Romanes had alwaies continuall warres in Asia, in Affrick, or in Europe. The noble Romanes sent the Consull Cornelius Scipio (brother to the great Scipio the Affrican) for Captaine of that warre. And after many battailes, Fortune shewed her force in a Citie called Sepila, the which is in Asia the great, where King Antiochus was ouercome, and all his Realme discomfited: for trees that haue their roots plucked vp, must needes within short time lose their fruites.
After that King Antiochus was ouercome, and his Land spoyled, Cornelius The reward of the Roman Captain. Scipio came into Rome triumphing, for the victory that hee had of Asia: so that his brother (for the victory that hee had of Affrica) was called Affricane: so hee was called Scipio the Asian, because he vanquished Asia. The Captaines of Rome loued honor so much, that they would no other reward nor recompence of their trauel, but that they should giue them the renowme of the Realme which they had ouercome. Truely they had reason, for the noble hearts ought little to esteem the encrease of their riches, and ought greatly to esteeme the perpetuity of their good name. As Sextus Cheronensis saith, in his third booke De ambigua iustitia, that Cornelius Scipio had a long time the gouernment of the people, for as much as hee was Consul, Censor, & Dictator of Rome: for he was not onely hardy and couragious, but also he was sage and wise, which thing ought greatly to bee esteemed in a man: for Aristotle doeth not determine it, which of these two is most excellent; either stoutnes, to fight in the warres; or pollicy, to rule in peace. Scipio therfore being Dictator (which was an office then as the Emperour is now) it chanced, that the ten Captaines which had beene with him in the warres, violently fought to haue entred into the Monastery of the Virgins Vestals: wherfore the Dictator commanded their heads to be cut off: for the Romanes punished more cruelly those, that onely required the Virgins vestalls, then those that forced the marryed Matrons.
Cornelius Scipio was besought of many in Rome, that hee would moderate and change his so cruell sentence. And hee which most in this case did importune him, was his brother Scipio, the Affrican, whose prayer was not accepted. Howbeit, in the end the sayd Captaines were pardoned, by the request of a Sister of the sayde Dictator Scipio the Affrican. And because The speech of Scipio the Affricā. hee blamed his brother Scipio, that he had done more for the daughter of his Nurse, then for the sonne of his proper mother, he answered: I let thee know, brother, that I take her more for my Mother that brought me vp, and did not beare me: then shee which hath borne me, and in my infancy hath forsaken me: And since I haue had her for my true mother, it is but reason that I haue this for my deare and well beloued sister.
These were the words which passed betweene these two brethren.
I haue diligently read in holy and prophane Writings, that many Tyrants haue caused their owne mothers to bee killed which bare them: but I could neuer find that they haue done any discourtesie or disobedience to the Nurses which gaue them milke. For the cruell Tyrants doe thirst after the bloud of others; but they feare them whose milke they sucke.
The fourth reason that bindeth Women to nourish their children is, to keepe them in more obedience: for, if the Fathers liue a long time, they must of force come into the hands of their children. And let not old Fathers make their accounts, saying, that during [Page 244] the time that they shall haue the gouernment of the house, their children shall be kept in obedience: for in so doing they might abuse themselues: for young men in their youth, feele not the trauailes of this life, not know not as yet, what it meaneth to make prouision for household: for to the stomacke that is full, and cloyed with eating, all meates seeme both vnsauory and noysome.
It may well bee, that since the children are not nourished in the house, that they know not their seruants, that they loue not their Parents, that they come not neere their brethren nor talke with their sisters, that they are ignorant of their fathers, and doe disobey their mothers: wherefore, since little feare doth abound, and good will fayle, one day they commit some mischieuous offence, wherby they doe lose their life worthily, and the fathers lose the riches, and likewise their honour deseruedly, to the intent that the fathers alwaies What dutie is required betweene the Parents and the childe. keepe their proper children vnder obedience, there is no better meane then to bring them vp in their owne houses, the mother to giue them sucke, and the father to teach them: for when the mother desireth any thing of her childe, shee should not shew him the belly from whence hee came, but the dugges which hee did sucke: for all that which is asked vs, by the milke which we did sucke, truely there is no heart so hard that can deny her.
The Historiographers say, that Antipater among all the Grecians was the most renowmed tyrant: & among the Romanes, Nero. And these two wicked Princes were not great tirants because they had committed many tyrannies; but because they did commit one which was most grieuous of al others: for they do not call a man a Glutton or Cormorant, because hee eateth euery houre, but because hee deuoureth more at one paste, then others doe in one day. The case was, that Antipater in Greece, and Nero in Rome, determined to kill their owne Mothers: And the Historiographers say, that when Nero commanded his mother to be killed, she sent to aske of him why he would put her to death? whereunto he answered, That hee was cloyed to behold the armes wherein hee was nourished, and therefore he caused The eruelty of Nero towards his Mother. her to be killed, to see the intrailes out of the which he came.
This case was so horrible, that it seemed to many not to speake it: but cōcluding, I say, as vniustly as the mothers lost the mortall life, so iustly did the children get for them immortall infamy. Nothing can be more wieked and detestable to the children, then to kill their mothers which did beare them with paine, and did nourish them with loue: but notwithstanding all this, we doe not read that euer they did kill, dishonour, or yet disobey their nurses which gaue them milke. Iunius Rusticus, in the fift booke of the bringing vp of children, sayth, that the two Gracchi (renowmed & famous Romanes) had a third brother, being a Bastard, who shewed himselfe as valiant and hardy in the warres of Asia, as the other two did in the wars of Affrica. The which, as he came one day to Rome to visite his house, hee found therein his Mother which bare him, and the Nurse which gaue him sucke; to the which Nurse hee gaue a Girdle of gold, and to his owne Mother he gaue a Iewell of siluer. Of the which things the mother being ashamed, considering what her son had done, she asked him, why hee had giuen the nurse the gold, which did but only giue him suck, & that he had not giuen the girdle of gold to her as well as the Iewell of siluer, since shee had born, & brought him into the world. [Page 245] Whereunto he answered in this manner: Maruell not thereat, mother, why I doe this thing, for thou didst beare me but nine moneths in thy wombe, and shee hath giuen mee sucke, and nourished mee these three yeeres with her owne proper pappes: and when thou diddest cast mee from thee out of thy sight, shee receiued mee and nourished mee in her proper armes.
Fifthly, Women ought to enforce themselues to nourish their children, The reason that may moue women to giue their children sucke. to the end they may keepe them the better, and that in their cradles they be not changed for others.
Aristotle sayth, that the Cuckow commêth to the nest of another bird when she hath laid her eggs, and sucketh them, and layeth in the same place her owne egges: so that the other birde, thinking that they are her owne, hatcheth and nourisheth them vp as her owne, vntill such time as they are able to flye: then the Cuckow killeth and eateth the silly bird that hath nourished her; through the which occasiō the males of those birds are at so great contention (that they haue beene so deceiued) that the one of them killeth the other, the which they might let if euery bird did nourish her owne.
In the same time that Philip raigned in Macedonia, (which was the father of Alexander the great) Arthebanus was King of the Epirotes, who in his age had a child borne, the which was stolne out of the Cradle, and another put in his stead. The Nurse which did nourish it, through couetousnes of mony, consented to that treason: for the heart that is with couerousnes ouercome, will not feare to commit any treason. It chanced not long after that King Arthebanus dyed, and left (as hee thought) his owne sonne for his heire: but within few dayes after, the Nurse her selfe, which had consented vnto the robberie, discouered the theft, and sayd, that shee could tell where the lawfull childe of the good King Arthebanus was, and that that child which now was Heire, was but the sonne of a meane Knight: but indeed, it had beene better for those of the miserable Realme, that the woman had neuer discouered the secret: for it chanceth oft times, that a man maketh such haste off his horse, that he hurteth his leg, and through that occasion afterwards falleth and breaketh his necke. But what shall we say to the Plebeicall women, of base and meane estate, (I doe not meane the Noble, Gentle, and vertuous Ladies) whereof they are many, that though in great secret their chiefest friend telleth them any thing, yet before they drinke they will vtter it to another.
Thus when the treason was discouered, cruell warres betweene these two Princes beganne: so that in the end, in a great battaile they were both slayne, the one in defending, and the other in assaulting.
At that time Olimpias raigned, who was the fayre and worthy wife of Philip, and mother of Alexander. Shee had a Brother, named Alexander, who was both pollitike & hardy, and hearing the Epirotes were in conrouersie, and that two Kings were slaine in the field, he placed himself in the Realme, more of wil, then of right. And let no man maruell, that this King occupyed the Realme; for in the old time all the tyrrannous Princes thought, that all that which they could obtaine without resistance, did vnto them belong by Iustice. This King Alexander was he which came into Italy in the fauour of the Tarentines, when they rebelled against the Romanes: who afterward was slaine in battel at Capua, where his body was vnburied. And truly it was a iust sentence, that the tirant which beteaueth many of their liues, should [Page 246] himselfe taste some shamefull death.
I haue declared this Historie to this end, that Princesses and great Ladies should see, that if the wife of King Arthehanus had nourished his sonne, they could not haue robbed it in the Cradle, nor these two Princes had not beene slayne in battaile, nor the Common-wealth had not beene destroyed, nor Alexander had not entred into the Land of another, nor had not come to conquer the Country of Italy, nor the dead corps had not wanted his graue: for oft times it chanceth, for not quenching a little coale of fire, a whole Forrest and house is burned.
The diuine Plato among the Greeks, and Licurgus among the Lacedemonians, commanded and ordayned in all their lawes, That all the Plebeica women; and those of mean estate, should nourish all their children; and that those which were Princesses & great Ladyes, should at the least nourish their eldest and first begotten.
Plutarch, in the booke of The raigne of Princes, saith, That the sixth King of the Lacedemonians was Thomistes, the which, when hee dyed, left two children, of which, the second inherited the Realme, because the Queene her selfe had brought it vp: and the first did not inherite, becaue a strange Nurse had giuen it sucke, and brought it vp. And hereof remained a custome in the most part of the Realmes of Asia, that the childe which was not A custome of Asia. nourished with the papps of his mother, should inherite none of his mothers goods. There was neuer, nor neuer shall be a mother that had such a Sonne as the Mother of God, which had Iesus Christ: nor there was neuer, nor neuer shall be a sonne which had such a mother in the world. But the Infant would neuer sucke other milke, because hee would not bee bound to call any other mother; nor the mother did giue him to nourish to any other mother, because that no other woman should call him sonne.
I do not maruell at all, that Princesses and great Ladies doe giue their children foorth to nourish: but that which most I maruell at is, that shee which hath conceiued and brought foorth a childe, is ashamed to giue it sucke and to nourish it. I suppose that the Ladies do think, that they deserue to conceiue them in their wombs, & that they sinne in nourishing them in their armes. I cannot tell how to write, and much lesse how to vtter that which I would say, which is, that women are now adayes come into such folly, that they thinke & esteeme it a state to haue in their armes some little dogs: and they are ashamed to nourish and giue their children sucke with their owne brests. O cruell mothers! I cannot thinke that your harts can bee so stony, to endure to see and keepe fantastic all Birds in cages, vnhappy Monkeys in the windowes, fisting Spaniels betweene your armes, and so neglect and despise the sweete Babes, casting them out of your houses where they were borne, and to put them into a strange place where they are vnknowne. It is a thing which cannot be in nature, neither that honestie can endure, conscience permit, nor yet consonant either to diuine or humane lawes, that those which GOD hath made Mothers of children, should make themselues Nurses of dogges.
Iunius Rusticus, in the third The saying of Iunius Rustious. booke of the sayings of the Ancients, saith, that Marcus Porcio, whose life and doctrine was a lanthorne and example to the Romane people, as a man much offended, said on a day to the Senate. O Fathers conscript! O cursed Rome! I cannot tel what now I should say, sith I haue seene in Rome such monstrous things (that is to say) [Page 247] to see women carry Parrots on their fists, & to see womē to nourish dogs, giuing them Milke from theyr owne breasts. They replyed in the Senate, and saide: Tell vs Marcus Porcia, What wouldest thou wee should doe which liue now, to resemble our Fathers which are dead?
Marcus Portio aunswered them. The woman that presumeth to be a Romain Matrone, ought to be found weauing in her house: and out of that, to bee How men and women ought to be stow theyr time. found in the Temple praying to God: and the Noble, and stoute Romaine, ought to be found in his House, reading Bookes, and out of his house, fighting in the plaine Field, for the honor of his countrey: And surely these were wordes worthie of such a man.
Annius Minutius was a Noble Romaine, and captaine of great Pompeius, who was a great friend to Iulius Caesar after the battell of Farsalie: For hee was an Auncient, and one that could giue good counsell, wherfore hee neuer scaped, but that hee was chosen in Rome, for Senatour, Consull, or Censor euery yeare: For Iulius Caesar was so mercifull to them that hee pardoned, those which had been his most enemies in the warres, were of him in peace best beloued.
This Annius Minutius then beeing chosen Censour within Rome, (which was an Office hauing charge of Iustice) by chaunce as hee went to visite the wife of another Friend of his, the which lay in Child-bed, (because she had great aboundance of milke) hee found that a little prettie Bitche did sucke her: Vpon the which occasion they say hee saide these wordes to the Senate, Fathers conscript, a present mischiefe is now at hand, according to the token I haue seen this day (that is to say,) I haue seene a Romaine woman denie her owne Children her milke, and gaue suck to a filthy bitche.
And truly this Annius had reason to esteeme this case as a wonder: For the truest and sweetest loues are not, but betweene the Fathers and Children: and where the mother embraceth the brute beast, and forsaketh her natural child which she hath brought forth, it cannot bee otherwise, but there either wisdome wanteth, or follie aboundeth: for the Foole loueth that hee ought to despise, and despiseth that which he ought to loue.
Yet though the mothers will not giue their children sucke, they ought to do What profit cometh to Women by giuing their childrē suck it for the danger which may come to the health of their persons': for as the women which bring forth Children, doe liue more healthfull then those which beare none: so these which doe nourish them, haue more health then those which doe not nourish them.
For although the bringing vp of children be troublesome to women, yet it is profitable for their health. I am ashamed to tell it, but it is more shame for Ladyes to do it: to see what plaisters they put to theyr Breasts to drie vp their milke: and hereof commeth the iust iudgements of God, that in that place ofte times where they seeke to stoppe their milke, in the selfe same place, they themselues pocure theyr sudden death.
I aske now, if women do not enioy their children being young, what pleasure hope they to haue of them when they be olde. What a great comfort is it for the Parents to see the young Babe, when hee will laugh? how hee twinckleth his little eyes: when he will weepe, how he will hang the pretie lippe: when he would speake, how he will make signes with his litle fingers: when hee would goe how hee casteth forward his feete: and aboue all, when he beginneth to babble: how he doubleth his words.
What thing is more pleasant to the Father then to see them, and to the mother to agree to it, when the children [Page 248] doe sucke, they plucke forth the Breasts with the one hand, and with the other they plucke their cradle, and further they beat their feete together, and with their wanton eyes, they cast on theyr Parents a thousand louing lookes, what is it to see them when they are vexed and angrie, how they will not be taken of the Fathers, how they strike their Mother: they cast away things of gold, and immediately they are appeased with a little apple, or rushe: What a thing is it to see the innocents how they answere, when a man asketh them? what follies they speake, when they speak to them? how they play with the dogges, and runne after the Catts? How they dresse them in wallowing in the dust? how they make litle houses of Earth in the streetes? how they weepe after the birdes when they flie away? All the which things are not to the Eyes of the Fathers and Mothers, but as nightingales to sing, and as Bread and meate to eate.
The Mothers peraduenture will say that they will not bring vp their children: because when they are young, they are troublesome, but that after they shold be nourished and brought vppe, they would be glad.
To this I answer them, that the mothers shal not deny me, but that some of these things must needes meete in their children, that when they be olde they shalbe eyther proud, enuious, couetous, or negligent: that they shalbe Lecherous, or else Theeues, that they shalbe Blasphemers, or else gluttons, that they shalbe rebells, or fooles, and disobedient vnto their Fathers.
I belieue that at this day there are manie Mothers in the world, which did hope to be honoured, and serued with the Children which they hadde brought vp: and afterwards, perceyuing their manners, would willingly forgoe the pleasures which they hoped for, so that they might also be deliuered from the troubles, which for their euill demeanours are like to ensue. For that time which the Parents hoped to passe with their Children in pleasures, they consume (seeing their vnthriftie life) in sorrowfull sobbes and sighes.
I counsell, admonish, and humbly require Princesses and great Ladyes, to nourish and enioy their Children when they are young and tender: for How women ought to spend the time about theyr children. after that they are great, a man shall bring them newes euery day of diuers sorts and māners they vse: for asmuch as the one shall say that her sonne is in prison: and another shall say that hee is sore wounded: another, that he is hid: others, that hee hath played his cloke: others, that hee is slaundered with a common harlot: another, that he stealeth his goods from him: another, that his enemies doe seeke him: another, thet hee accompanieth with vnthrifts: And finally, they are so slurdie, vnhappie, and so farre from that which is good: that oftentimes the fathers would reioyce to see them die, rather then to see them liue so euill a life.
Mee thinketh that the knot of loue between the mother and the childe is so great, that not onely she ought not to suffer them to be nourished out of the house one whole yeare: but also Pleasures that women may take in their children. she ought not to suffer them to be out of her presence one onely day. For in seeing him, shee seeth that which is borne of her entrailes: she seeth that which shee hath with so great paines deliuered: she seeth him who ought to inherite all her goods: shee seeth him in whome the memorie of their Auncestors remaineth: and she seeth him, who after her death ought to haue the charge of her affayres and businesse.
Concluding therefore, that which aboue is spoken (I say) that which the [Page 249] great Plutarch saide; from whom I haue drawn the most part of this chapter: that the mother, (to bee a good Mother) ought to haue and keepe her Childe in her armes to nourish him, and afterwards when he shalbe great, she ought to haue him in her hart, to helpe him. For we see oft times great euills ensue, to the Mother, and to the Childe, because she did not bring him vp her selfe: and to put him to nourish to a straunge breast, there commeth neither honour nor profite.
CHAP. XX. ¶ That Princesses & great Ladyes ought to bee very circumspect in choosing of their Nurses. Of seuen propertyes which a good Nurse should haue.
THose which ordayned Lawes for the people to liue, were The lawes of the Auncients. these; Promotheans, which gaue lawes to the Egyptians: Solon Solinon, to the Greekes, Moyses to the Iewes, Lycurgus to the Lacedemonians, and Numa Pompilius to the Romains: for before these Princes came, their people were not gouerned by written lawes, but by good auncient customes.
The intention of these Excellent Princes was, not to giue lawes to their predecessors, for they were now dead: neyther they gaue thē onely for those which liued in their time being wicked, but also for those which were to come, whome they did prestippose would not be good. For the more the World increaseth in yeares, so much the more it is loaden with vices.
By this that I haue spoken, I meane, that if the Princesses and great Ladies euery one of them would Nourish their owne childe, I neede not to giue them counsell. But since, I haue supposed that the women which shall be deliuered hereafter, will be as proude and vaine-glorious, as those which were in times past: We will not let to declare here some Lawes and aduises how the Ladie ought to behaue her selfe with her Nurce, and how the Nurce ought to content her selfe with the creature. For it is but iust, that if the mother be cruell, and hardie to forsake the creature, that she be sage, pitifull, and aduised to chose her Nurce.
If a man finde great treasure, and afterwards care not how to keepe it, but doeth commit into the hands of suspected persons, truly we would call him a foole. For that which naturally is beloued, is alwayes of all best kept.
The Woman ought more wisely to keepe the treasure of her own bodie, then the treasure of all the Earth (if she had it.) And the Mother which What care Women ought to haue of their children. doth the contrarie, and that committeth her Childe to the custodie of a straunge Nurce, not to her whome shee thinketh best, but whom she findeth best cheape: we will not call her a foolish beast, for that name is too vnseemly) out we will call her a sotte, which is somewhat more honester.
One of the things that doth make vs most belieue that the ende of the world is at hand: is, to see the little loue which the mother doth beare to the childe being young, and to see the want of loue which the Childe hath beare to his Mother being aged. That which the childe doeth to the Father and Mother, is the iust iudgement of God: that euen as the Father would not nourish the child in his house, being young: so likewise that the sonne should not suffer the Father in his house, he being olde.
Returning therefore to the matter, that sith the woman doth determine to drie and shut vp the fountaines of [Page 250] milke which Nature hath giuen her, shee ought to bee very diligent; to search out a good nurse: the which ought not only to content herselfe to haue her milke whole, but also that shee be good of life. For otherwise, the childe shal not haue so much profite by the which hee sucketh, as the nurse shall doe it harme, if shee bee a woman of an euill life.
I doe aduise Princesses and great Dames, that they watch diligently to knowe what their Nurses are, before they commit their children to them: for, if such Nurses be euill, and slaundered, they are as Serpents which doe A good example for women. byte the Mother with their mouth, and do sting the childe with her taile. In my opinion it were lesse euill, the Mother should suffer that her Childe should perish in deliuering it: then for to keepe in her house an euill woman. For the sorrow of the death of the Childe is forgotten and brought to nought in time, but the slaunder of her house shall endure as long as shee liueth.
Sextus Cheronensis sayeth, that the Emperor Marcus Aurelius commanded his Sonne to be brought vp of a woman, the which was more faire, thē vertuous. And when the good Emperour was aduertised thereof, he did not onely send her from his Pallace, but also hee banished and exiled her from Rome: swearing that if she had not nourished his Sonne with her pappes, he would haue commaunded her to haue been torne in pieces with Beasts. For the woman of an euill renowme, may iustly bee condemned, and put to death.
Princesses and great Ladyes ought not greatly to passe, whether the nurses be faire or fowle: For if the milke be sweete, white, and tender, it little skilleth though the face of the Nurse be white, or blacke.
Sextus Cheronensis saith, in the booke of the nurture of children, that euen as the black Earth is more fertile then is the white earth: So likewise, the Woman which is browne in countenance, hath alwayes the most substantiall milke.
Paulus Dyaconus, in his greatest Hystorie, saieth, that the Emperour Adocerus did Marrie himselfe with the daughter of another Emperour, his predecessor called Zeno, and the Empresse was called Arielna: The which in bringing forth a Sonne, had a woman of Hungarie, maruellous faire, to nourish it, and the case succeeded in such sort, that the Nurse for beeing faire, had by the Emperor iij. children the one after the other: and his wofull Wife neuer had any but the first alone.
A man ought to belieue that the Empresse Arielna did not only repent her selfe, for taking into her house so faire a Nurse: but also was sorry that A good example for all sorts of women. euer shee had any at all; sith the Ribalde thereby was Mistresse in the house, and she remained without husband all her life.
I doe not say it, for that there are not many foule women vicious, nor yet because there are not many faire women vertuous: but that Princesses and great Ladyes, (according to the qualities of their Husbands) ought to bee profitable and tender Nurses, to bring vp their Children. For in this case there are some men of so weake a complexion, that in seeing a little cleane water, immediately they die to drinke thereof. Let therefore this be the first counsell in choosing Nurses, that the Nurse before shee enter into the house be examined, if shee be honest and vertuous. For it is a trys [...]e whether the Nurse be faire or foule: but that she be of a good life, and of an honest behauiour.
Secondarily, it is necessary that the Nurse which nourisheth the child, be [Page 251] not onely good in behauiour of her life: but also it is necessary that she be whole, as touching the bodily health. For it is a rule vnfallible, that of the milke which we do sucke in our infancie, dependeth all the corporal health of our life.
A childe giuen to the Nurse to nourish, is as a Tree remoued from one place to another. And if it be so (as in deed it is) it behoueth in all points, that if the Earth wherein it shall be newe put, were no better, that at the least it be not worse: For this should bee a great crueltie, that the Mother beeing whole, strong, and well disposed, should giue her Childe to a leane woman to nurse, which is feeble, sore, and diseased.
Princesses and great Ladyes, doe chose leane women, weake, and sicke, for to nourish their Infants. And in that they doe faile, it is not for that they would erre: But it is because that such feeble and weake Nurses, (by a vaine desire they haue to be Nurses in a Gentlemans house) on the one part they say they will little money, and on the other part, they doe make great suites.
What thing it is when a Princesse or a Noble-woman is deliuered of a Childe? to see the deuises of other women among themselues, who shall be the Nurse: and how those which neuer nourished their owne children, doe preserue the milke to nourish the children of others? To procure this thing for women, me thinketh it proceedeth of aboundance of follie, and to condescend to their requests, mee thinketh it is for want of wisedome.
They looke not alwayes to the manners and abilitie of the Nurse, how apt shee is to nurse their childe: but how diligent shee is to haue to nourish. They eare not greatly whether they be good or no: For if the first be not good, they wil take the second, and if the second pleaseth them not, they will haue the third: and so vpwards, vntil they haue found a good Nurse. But I let you to know (you What inconueniēce cometh by changing Nurses. Princesses and great Ladyes) that it is more daunger for the Children to chaunge diuers milkes, then vnto the olde men to eate diuers meates.
Wee see daily by experience, that without comparison, there dyeth more children of Noble-women, thē children of women of the meaner estate. And wee will not say, that it is for that they do flatter their children more, nor for that the wiues of labourers doe eate fine meates: but that it chaunceth oft times, that the children of a poore woman doth neither eate nor drinke, but of one kinde of meat, or milke in two yeares: and the child of a Ladie shal change and alter three Nurses in two moneths.
If Princesses and great Ladyes were circumspect in choosing their nurses, and that they did looke whether they were whole, without diseases, and honest in their manners, and would not regarde so much the importunitie of their suites: the Mothers should excuse themselues from many sorrowes, and the children likewise, should bee deliuered from many diseases.
One of the most renowmed Princes in times past, was Titus, the Sonne of Vespasian, and Brother of Domitian. Lampriains saieth, that this good Emperour Titus (the most part of his life) was subiect to grieuous diseases, & infirmities of his person: and the cause was, for that when hee was young, he was, giue to a sicke Nurse to be nourished; So that this good Emperour sucking her Dugge but a while, was constrayned to passe all his life after in paine.
Thirdly, Princesses and great Ladyes ought to know, and vnderstand the complexion of their children: to the ende that according to the same, [Page 252] they might seeke pitifull Nurses: that is to say, if the childe were Cholerick, Flegmatcke, Sanguine, or Melancholie. For looke what humor the childe is of, of the same qualitie the milke of the Nurse should be.
If vnto an old corrupted man they minister medicins conformable to his diseases, for to cure him, why then should not the Mother seeke a wholesome Nurse to the tender Babe, agreable to his complexion, to nourish him? And if thou sayest, it is iust, that the flesh olde and corrupted bee sustained: I tell thee likewise, that it is much more necessary that the Children should bee curiously and well nourished, to multiplie the world: For in the ende wee doe not say, it is time that the Young leaue the bread for the Aged: but contrarie, it is time, that the olde leaue the bread for the young.
Aristotle in the booke De secretis secretorum, and Iunius Rusticus, in the Arist. de secret. secretorum. tenth booke De gestis Persarum, say: that the vnfortunate king Darius (who was ouercom by Alexander the great) had a Daughter of a maruellous beauty. And they say that the Nurse which gaue suck to this daughter, all the time that shee did nourish it, did neyther eate nor drinke any thing but poyson: and at the ende of three yeares, when the Childe was weyned, and plucked from the dugge, she did eate nothing but Colubers, and other venomous wormes.
I haue hearde say many times that the Emperors had a custome to nourish their Heyres and Children with poisons when they were young, to the intent that they should not be hurt by poyson, afterwarde when they were old. And this error cometh of those which presume much, and know little. And therefore I say, that I haue heard say, without saying I haue read it. For some declare hystories, more for that they haue hearde say of others: then for that they haue read themselues.
The truth in this case is, that as wee vselat this present, to weare chaines of golde about our neckes, or iewells on our fingers, so did the gentils in times past, a Ring on their fingers, or some iewell in theyr bosome, replenished with poyson. And because the Paynims did neither feare hell, nor hoped for heauen, they had that custome: for if at any times in Battell they should finde themselues in distresse, they had rather ende their liues with poyson, then to receyue any iniurie of theyr enemyes. Then if it were true, that those Princes had bin nourished with that Poyson, they would not haue carryed it about them to haue ended their liues.
Further, I say, that the Princes of How children ought to be nourished and brought vp. Persia did vse when they had any child borne, to giue him milke to sucke agreable to the Complexion hee had. Since this daughter of Darius was of melancholy humor, they determined to bring her vp with venom and poyson: because all those which are pure melancholie, do liue with sorrow, and die with pleasure.
Ignatius the Venetian, in the life of the fiue Emperours, Palleolus (which were valiant Emperours in Constantinople,) sayeth: that the second of that name, called Palleolus the hardie, was after the xl. yeares of his age, so troubled with infirmities and diseases, that alwayes of the twelue moneths of the yeare, he was in his bed sick nine moneths: and being so sicke as he was, the affayres and businesse of the Empire were but slenderly done and looked vnto. For the Prince cannot haue so small a Feuer, but the people in the common-wealth must haue it double,
This Emperour Palleolus had a wife, whose name was Huldonina, the which after she had brought all the Physitions of Asia vnto her Husband, and [Page 253] that shee had ministred vnto him all the medicines shee could learne to helpe him, and in the end seeing nothing auaile, there came by chaunce an old woman, a Grecian borne, who presumed to haue great knowledge in hearbes, and sayd vnto the Empresse. Noble Empresse Huldouina, If thou wilt that the Emperour thy husband liue long, see that thou chafe, anger, Good counsell for one that would liue long. and vexe him euery weeke at the least twise: for hee is of a pure melancholy humour, and therefore hee that doth him pleasure, augmenteth his disease: and hee that vexeth him shall prolong his life.
The Empresse Huldouina followed the counsell of this Greeke woman, which was occasion that the Emperour liued afterwardes sound and whole many yeeres: so that of the nine monethes which hee was accustomed to be sicke euery yeere, in twenty yeeres afterwards he was not sicke three monethes. For where as this Greeke woman commaunded the Empresse to anger her husband but twice in the week, she accustomably angred him iiii. times in the day.
Fourthly, the good mother ought to take heede, that the nurse be very temperat in eating, so that she should eate little of diuers meates, and of those few dishes she should not eate too much. To vnderstand the thing yee must know, that the white milke is no other then bloud which is sodden, & that which causeth the good or euill bloud, commeth oft times of an other thing, but that eyther the person in temperate, or else a glutton in [...]ating, and therefore it is a thing both healthful and necessary, that the nurse that nourisheth the child doe eate good meates: for among men and women it is a generall rule, that in litle eating there is no danger and of too much eating there is no profite. As all the Phylosophers say, the wolfe is one of the beasts that denoureth most, and is most greedyest, and therefore hee is most feared of all the Shepheards.
But Aristotle, in his third booke De Animalibus saith: That whē the wolfe doeth once feele her selfe great with young, in all her life after shee neuer Aristot: De Animalib: suffereth herselfe to bee coupled with the wolfe againe. For otherwise, if the wolfe shold yearely bring forth vij. or viij. whelps (as commonly she doth, and the Sheepe but one lambe, there would be in short space, more wolues thē sheepe. Beside all this, the wolfe hath an other propertie, which is, that although she be a Beast most deuouring and greedie: yet when she hath whelped, she feedeth very temperately, and it is to the ende to nourish her whelps, and to haue good milke. And besides that, she doth eate but once in the day, the which the dogwolfe doth prouide, both for the Bitch & whelps.
Truly it is a monstrous thing to see, and noysome to heare, and no lesse slaunderous to speake: that a Wolfe which giueth sucke to viij. whelps, eateth but one only kinde of meate, and the woman which giueth sucke but to one Childe alone, will eate of vii. or viii. sortes of meates. And the cause hereof is, that the Beast doth not eate but to sustain nature, & a womā doth not eate, but to satisfie her pleasure.
Princesses and great Ladyes ought to watche narrowly, to know when & how much the Nurses do eate, which doe nourish their children: For the child is so tender, and the milk so delicate, that with eating of sundry meats What Dyet Nurses ought to vse. they become corrupt, and with eating much they waxefat. If the childrē suck those which are fat & grosse, they are cōmonly sicke: and if they sucke milke corrupted, they oft times goe to bed whole, & in the morne be found dead Isidor in his etimologies saith, that the men of the prouince of Thrace were so [Page 254] cruell that the one did eate the other: and they did not onely this, but also further to shew more their immanity in the sculs of those that were dead, they dranke the bloud of him that was lately aliue. Though men were so cruell to eate mens flesh, and to drinke the bloud of the veines; yet the Women which nourished their children, were so temperate in eating, that they did eate nothing but netles sodden, and boiled in Goates milk. And because the women of Thrace were so moderate in eating, the Phliosopher Solon Solynon brought some to Athens: for the Auncients sought no lesse to haue good women in the common-wealth, then to haue hardy and valiant Captaines in the warre.
CHAP. XXI. The Author addeth three other conditions to a good nurse that giueth sucke: that they drinke no wine, that shee be honest, and chiefly that shee bee well conditioned.
THe Princesses and great Ladies may know by this example, what difference there is between the women An example of the women of Thrace. of Thrace, which are fedde with nettles only, and haue brought forth such fierce men, and the womē of our time, which throgh their delicate and excessiue eating, bring forth such weake and feeble children.
Fiftly, the Ladies ought to bee very circumspect, not onely that Nurses eate not much, and that they bee not greedy: but also that they be in wine temperate, the which in olde time was not called wine, but venom. The reason hereof is apparant and manifest enough: For if wee doe forbid the fatte meates which lyeth in the stomacke, wee should then much more forbid the moyst Wine, which washeth all the veynes of the bodie.
And further I say, that as the Childe hath no other nourishment but the milke only, and that the milke proceedeth of bloud, and that bloud is nourished of the wine, and that wine is naturally hote, from the first to the last.
I say, that Woman which drinketh wine, and giueth the child sucke, Women giuing sucke, ought to abstaine from wine. doth as shee that maketh a great Fire vnder the panne, where there is but a little milke: so that the pan burneth, and the milke runneth ouer.
I will not denie, but that somtimes it may chaunce, that the childe shal be of a strong complexion, and the Nurse of a feeble and weake nature: and then the childe would more substantial milke, when the woman is not able to giue it him.
In such a case, (though with other things Milke may be conferred,) I allow that the nurse drinke a little wine: but it should bee so little, and so well watered, that it should rather bee to take away the vnsauorinesse of the water, then for to taste of any sauour of the wine.
I do not speake this without a cause, for the nurse being sicke, and feeble of herselfe, and her milke not substantial, it oftentimes moueth her to eat more then necessity requireth, and to drinke wine which is somewhat nutritiue: So that they supposing to giue the Nurse Triacle, doe giue her poyson to destroy her childe.
Those excellent and Auncient Romaines, if they had been in our time, and that wee hadde deserued to haue beene in their time, (although our time, for being Christians is better) [Page 255] they had saued vs from this trauell: For they were so temperate in eating meates, and so abstinent, in drinking wines, that they did not only refraine the drinking thereof, but also they would not abide to smell it. For it was counted a greater shame vnto a Romane Woman to drinke wine, then to be diuorced from her Husband.
Dyonisius Alicarnaseus, in his booke of the lawes of the Romaines, said: that Romulus was the first founder of Rome, and that hee occupyed himselfe more in buylding faire Houses to amplifye Rome, then in constituting Lawes for the gouernement of the Commonwealth: But amongst fifteene Lawes which hee made, the seuenth thereof was, that no Romaine woman on paine of death should be so hardie to drinke wine, within the walls of Rome.
The same Hystorian sayth, that by Womē prohibited to drink: wine in former times. the occasion of this Law the custome was in Rome, that when any Romane Ladie would drinke wine, or make any solemne feast, she must needs goe out of Rome, where euery one had theyr Gardens and dwelling place: because the smel also of Wine was prohibited and forbidden women within the circuit of Rome.
If Plinie do not deceiue vs in his 24. booke of his natural historie, it was an ancient custom in Rome, that at each time that Parents met, both men and women, they did kisse the one the other in the face, in token of peace: and this ceremonie beganne first, for that they would smell whether the woman had drunke any wine. And if perchance she sauored of wine, the Censor might haue bannished her from Rome.
And if her kinsman found her without Rome, hee might freely & without any daunger of law put her to death: because within the Circuit and walles of Rome, no priuate man by Iustice, could put any Romaine to death, as aboue is rehearsed.
Romulus was he which ordained the paine for Drunkardes, and Ruptilius was hee, which ordained the penaltie for Adulterers. And betweene Romulus and Ruptilius, there was xxxii. yeares: So that they ordyaned this streight Law for Drunkardes, a long time before they did the law for adulterers. For if a woman be a drunkard, or Harlot, truely they are both great faultes, and I cannot tell whether of them is worst: For being a harlot, the woman loseth her name: and for being a drunkarde, shee loseth her fame, and the Husband his goods.
Then if women for, the honestie of their pesons onely, are bound to bee temperate in eating and drinking the woman which nourisheth and giueth [...] the Childe sucke, ought to bee much more corrected and sober in this case. For in her is concurrant not only the grauity of their own persons, but the health and life also of the Creature, which she nourisheth. Therefore it is meete, that the Nurse bee kept from wine: since the honor of the one, and the life of the other is in perill.
Sixtly, the Princesses and great Ladyes ought to take heede, that theyr Nurses be not gotten with child. And the reason hereof is, that in that time when the woman is with Childe, her naturall course is stopped, and that corruption is mingled with the pure bloud: So that shee thinking to giue the childe milke to nourish it, giueth it poyson to destroy it. And nothing can bee more vniust, then to put the childe (which is alreadie borne, and aliue) in danger for that which is as yet vnborne, and dead. It is a wonderfull thing, (for a man that will curiously note and mark things) to see the brute beasts, that all the time they bring vp theyr little ones, they will not consent to accompanie with the Males, nor the males will follow the females. [Page 256] And that which is most to hee noted, it is, to see, what passeth betweene the Byrds: for the she Sparrow will not suffer the Male, in any wise to touch nor to come neere her, vntill her little ones be great & able to flie: and much lesse to sit vpon any Egges, to hatche them, till the other be fled and gone.
Plutarch in the seuenth of his Regiment of Princes, saith, that Gneus Fuluius (Couzin germaine of Pompeyus.) beeing Consull in Rome, fell in loue with a young maidē of Capua being an orphā, whether he fled for the plague.
This Mayden was called Sabina, and when she was great with child by this Consull, shee brought forth a daughter, whom they called faire Drusia: & truely she was more commended for her beautie, then shee was for her honestie. For oft times it happeneth that the fayre and dishonest women leaue their Children so euill taught, that of their Mothers they inherite little goods, and much dishonour This Sabina therefore beeing deliuered (as it was the custome of Rome) she did with her own breasts nourish her daughter Drusia. During the which time shee was gotten with childe, by one of the Knights of this Consul, to whome (as to his Seruant) hee had giuen her to keepe.
Wherefore when the Consull was heereof aduertised, and that notwithstanding she gaue her daughter suck: he commanded that the knight shold be immediatly beheaded, & his louer Sabina forthwith to be cast into a wel.
The day of Execution came, that both these parties should suffer, wherfore the wofull Sabina sent to beseech the Consull, that it would please him before her death to giue her audience of one sole worde, that shee would speake vnto him: the which beeing come in the presence of them all, shee said vnto him.
O Gneus Fuluius; know thou that I did not call thee to the ende thou shouldest graunt me life, but because I would not die before I had seene thy face: though thou of thy selfe shouldest remember, that as I am a frayle The speech of Sabina. Woman, and fell into sinne with thee in Capua, so I might fall now (as I haue done) with another here in Rome.
For, wee Women are so fraile in this case, during the time of this our miserable life, that none can keepe herselfe sure, from the assaultes of the weake Flesh.
The Consull Gneus Fuluius to these words answered: The Gods immortall know Sabina, what griefe it is to my wofull hart, that I of my secret offence The answer of the Consull Fuluius. should be an open scourge. For greater honestie it is for men to hyde your frailnesse, then openly to punish your offences. But what wilt thou I should doe in this case: considering the offence thou hast committed? By the immortall Gods, I sweare vnto thee, and again I sweare, that I had rather thou shouldest secretly haue procured the death of some man, thē that openly in this wise thou shouldst haue slaunderd my house. For thou knowest the true meaning of the common prouerbe in Rome, It is better to die in honour, then to liue in infamie. And think not (Sabina) that I do condemne thee to die because thou forgotest thy Faith vnto my person, and that thou gauest thy selfe vnto him which kept thee: For since thou wert not my wife, the liberty thou haddest to come with me from Capua to Rome, the selfesame thou hadst to goe with another from Rome to Capua. It is an euill thing for vicious [...]e [...], to reprooue the vices of others, wherein themselues are faulty.
The cause why I condemn thee to dye, is onely for the remembrance of the old Law, the which commandeth that no nurse or woman giuing sucke; should on paine of death be begotten with childe, truly the Law is very iust. [Page 257] For honest women do not suffer, that in giuing her child sucke at her breast, she shold hide another in her entrails.
These words passed between Gneus Fuluius the Consul, and the Ladie Sabina of Capua. Howbeit as Plutarche saith, in that place the Consull had pitie vpon her, and shewed her fauour, banishing her vpon condition, neuer to returne to Rome againe
Cinna Catullus, in the fourth booke of the xxij Consulls saith: that Caius Fabricius, was one of the most notable Consulles that euer was in Rome, and was sore afflicted with diseases in his life, onely because hee was nourished foure moneths with the milke of a Nurse being great with Childe: and for feare of this, they locked the nurse with the Childe in the Temple of the Vestall virgines, where for the space of iij. yeares they were kept.
They demaunded the Consul, why he did not nourish his children in his house? He answered, that children being nourished in the house, it might bee an occasion that the Nurse should Wherefore the Consull would not haue his children nourished in his house. begottē with child, and so she should destroy the children with her corrupt milke: and further giue me occasion to do iustice vpon her person: wherefore keeping them so shut vp, wee are occasion to preserue their life, and also our children from perill.
Dyodorus Siculus, in his librairy, and Sextus Cheronensis saith, in the life of Marc. Aurelius, that in the Isles of Baleares there was a custom, that the nurses of young children, (whether they were their owne or others) should be seuered from their Husbands, for the space of two yeares. And the woman which at that time (though it were by her husband) were with child, though they did not chasten her as an adulteresse: yet euery man spake euill of her, as of an offender.
During the time of these two yeares to the ende that the Husband should take no other wife, they commanded that hee should take a concubine: or that hee should buye a Slaue, whose companie hee might vse as his wife: for amongst these barbarous, hee was honoured most that had two Wiues, the one with child, and the other not.
By these Examples aboue recited, Princesses and great Ladyes may see, what watch & care they ought to take in choosing their Nurses, that they be honest, since of them dependeth not onely the health of their children, but also the good fame of their houses. The seuēth condition is, that Princesses and great ladies ought to see their What is required in euery good Nurse. nurses haue good conditions: so that they be not troublesome, proud, harlots, liars, malicious, nor flatterers: for the viper hath not so much poyson, as the woman which is euil cōditioned.
It little auaileth a man to take wine from a woman, to entreate her to eate little, and to withdrawe her from her husband, if of her owne nature she be hatefull, and euill mannered: for it is not so great dāger vnto the child, that the nurse be a drunkard, or a glutton, as it is if she be harmfull & malitious.
If perchaunce the Nurse (that nourisheth the child) be euil conditioned. truly she is euill troubled, & the house wherin she dwelleth euil cōbred. For such one doth importune the Lorde, troubleth the Lady, putteth in hazard the childe, & aboue all, is not contented with her selfe. Finally, Fathers for giuing too much libertie to their nurses, oft times are the causes of manie practises, which they doe: wherewith in the ende, they are grieued with the death of their childrē which foloweth Amongst all these which I haue read, I say, that of the ancient Roman Princes, of so good a Father, as Drusius Germanicus was, neuer came so wicked a son as Caligula was, being the iiij Emp: of Rome: for the Hystoriographers were not satisfied to enrich the [Page 258] praise the excellencies of his Father, neyther ceased they to blame and reprehend the infamies of his Sonne. And they say that his naughtines proceedeth not of the mother which bare him: but of the nurse which gaue him sucke. For often times it chaunceth that the tree is green and good, when it is planted, and afterwardes it becometh drie and withered, onely for being carryed into another place.
Dyon the Greeke in the second book of Caesars saieth, that a cursed woman of Campania called Pressilla, nourished and gaue suck vnto this wicked child. Shee had against all nature of women her breasts as hayrie as the beardes of The description of Pressilla. men: and besides that, in running a Horse, handling her staffe, shooting in the Crosse-bowe, fewe young men in Rome were to bee compared vnto her.
It chaunced on a time that as shee was giuing sucke to Caligula, for that shee was angrie, shee tore in pieces a young child, and with the bloud therof annoynted her breasts: and so she made Caligula the young Childe, to sucke together both bloud and milke.
The saide Dyon in his booke of the life of the Emperour Caligula saieth: that the women of Campania (whereof the saide Pressilla was) had this custom, that whē they would giue their Teat to the childe, first they did annointe the nipple, with the bloud of a hedge-hog, to the ende their children might be more fierce and cruell.
And so was this Caligula, for hee was not contented to kill a man onely, but also hee sucked the bloud that remained on his Sworde, and licked it off with his tongue.
The excellent Poet Homer, meaning to speake plainely of the crueltyes of Pyrrus, saide in his Odisse of him, such wordes: Pyrrus was borne in Greece, nourished in Archadie, and brought vp with Tygers milke, which is a cruell beast, as if more plainely he had saide: Pyrrus for being borne in Greece was Sage, for that hee was brought vp in Archadie, he was strong and couragious, & for to haue sucked Tygars milke, he was very proud and cruell. Hereof may be gathered, that the great Grecian Pyrrus, for wanting of good milke, was ouercome with euill conditions.
The selfe same Hystorian Dyon saith, in the life of Tiberius; that hee was a great Drunkard. And the cause hereof was, that the Nurse did not onely drinke wine: but also she weyned the childe with soppes dipped in Wine. What is required of a Nurse for bringing vp of children. And without doubt the cursed Woman had done lesse euill, if in the stead of milke, she had giuen the child poyson, without teaching it to drinke wine: wherefore afterwardes he lost his renowne.
For truely, the Romane Empire had lost little if Tiberius had dyed being a childe: and it had wonne much, if he had neuer knowne what drinking of Wine had meant.
I haue declared all that which before is mentioned, to the intent that Princesses and great Ladyes might be aduertised, that since in not nourishing their children, they shew themselues cruel: yet at the least, in prouiding for thē good Nurses, they shold shew themselues pittifull: for the children oft times follow more the condition of the milke which they sucke, then the condition of their mothers which brought them forth, or of their fathers which begot them. Therefore they ought to vse much circumspection herein: for in them consisteth the fame of the wiues, the honour of the husband, and the wealth of their children.
CHAP. XXII. Of the Disputations before Alexander the great, concerning the time of the sucking of Babes.
OVintus Curtins saith, that after the great Alexander (which which was the last King of the Macedonians, and first Emperour of the Greekes) had ouercome King Darius, and that he saw himselfe onely Lord of all Asia, he went to rest in Babylon: for among men of warre there was a custome, that after they had beene long in the warres, euery one should retire to his owne house. King Philip (which was father of King Alexander) alwayes counselled his sonne, that he should leade with him to the warres What is required of a good Captaine. valiant Captaines, to conquere the World: and that out of his Realmes and Dominions hee should take and chuse the wisest men, and best experimented, to gouerne the Empire. Hee had reason in such wise to counsell his sonne: for by the counsell of Sages, that is kept and maintained, which by the strength of valiant men is gotten and wonne.
Alexander the great therefore being in Babylon, after hee had conquered all the Countrey, since all the Citie was vicious, and his Armie so long without warres, some of his owne men began to robbe one another, others to play their own, some to force women, and others to make banquets and feasts: & when some wee drunk, others raysed quarrels, strifes, and discentions: so that a man could not tell whether was greater, the rust in their Armours, or the corruptions in their customes. For the propertie of mans malice is, that when the gate is open to idlenesse, infinite vices enter into the house.
Alexander the great seeing the dissolution which was in his Armie, and the losse which might ensue heereof vnto his great Empire, commanded straightly, that they should make a shew and iust thorow Babylon, to the How Alexander gouerned his armie. end that the men of warre should exercise their forces thereby. And as Aristotle saith, in the book of the Questions of Babylon, the Turney was so much vsed amongst them, that sometimes they carryed away more dead and wounded men, then of a bloudie battaile of the enemie. Speaking according to the lawe of the Gentiles, (which looked not glory for their vertues, nor feared hell to dye) at the Turney the commandement of Alexander was very iust, for that doing as he did to the Armie: he defaced the vice which did waste it, and for himselfe he got perpetuall memory, and also it was cause of much suertie in the Common-weale.
This good Prince, not contented to exercise his army so, but ordayned, that daily in his presence the Philosophers should dispute, and the question wherein they should dispute, Alexander himselfe would propound, whereof followed, that the great Alexander was made certaine of that wherein hee doubted: and so by his wisedome all men exercised their crafts and wits. For in this time of idlenesse, the bookes were no lesse marred with dust, because they were not opened, then the weapons were with rust, which were not occupyed.
There is a booke of Aristotle, intituled The Questions of Babilon, where he sayd, that Alexander propounded, the Philosophers disputed, the Principalles of Persia, replyed, and Aristotle determined: and so continued in disputations as long as Alexander did eate: for at the Table of Alexan [Page 260] der, one day the Captaines reasoned of matters of warre, and another day the Philosophers disputed of their Philosophie.
Blundus saieth, in the booke intituled, Italia Illustrata, that among the Princes of Persia there was a custome, that none could sit downe at the Table, vnlesse hee were a King that had A custome among the Persians. ouercome another King in battaile; and none could speake at their table, but a Philosopher. And truely, the custome was very notable, and worthy to be noted: for there is no greater folly, then for any man to desire that a Prince should reward him, vnlesse hee know that by his works hee had deserued the same. King Alexander did eate but one meale in the day, and therefore the first question that he propounded vnto them was; That the man which did not eate but once in the day, at what houre it was best to eate, for the health of his person, and whether it should be in the morning, noone dayes, or night? This question was debated among the Philosophers, whereof euery one to defend his opinion, alleadged many foundations. For no lesse care haue the Sages in their mindes, to issue out of them disputations victorious; then the valiant Captaines haue in aduenturing their persons to vanquish their enemies. It was determined, as Aristotle maketh mention in his Probleames, that the man which eateth but once in the day, should eate a little before What time it requisite for a man to eate. night: for it auayleth greatly to the health of the body, that when the digestion beginneth in the stomacke, a man taketh his first sleepe.
The second question that Alexander propounded was, What age the childe should haue when hee should be weyned from the dugge. And the occasion of this question was, for that he had begotten a young daughter of a Queene of the Amazous, the which at that time did sucke: and for to know whether it were time or not to weyne her, there was great dispurations: for the childe was now great to sucke, and weake to weyne.
I haue declared this History for no other purpose, but to shew how in Babylon this question was disputed before King Alexander; that is to say, how many yeeres the childe ought to haue before it were weyned from the teate: for at that time they are so ignorant, that they cannot demand that that is good, nor complaine of that that is naught. In that case a man ought to know, as the times are variable, and the regions and prouince diuers: so likewise haue they sundry wayes of bringing vp and nourishing their children: for there is as much difference betweene the Countreys of one, from the Countries of others, in dying, and burying the dead bodies, as there hath beene varieties in the world, by way of nourishing & bringing vp of children.
CHAP. XXIII. Of sundry kindes of Sorceries, Charmes and Witchcrafts, which they in olde time vsed in giuing their children sucke, the which Christians ought to eschew.
IT is not much from our purpose if I declare here some old examples of those which are past. Strabo in his booke De Strabo de situ Orbis. situ Orbis, saith, that after the Assirians (which were the first that raigned in the world) the Siconians had signorie (which long time after were called Arcades) which were great and famous wrastlers, and Schoolemasters at the Fence, from [Page 261] whom came the first and best Masters of Fence, the which the Romanes kept alwaies for their Playes: for as Trogus Pompeius sayth, the Romanes found it by experience, that there were no better men in waightie affayres, then those of Spaine: nor no people apter to playes and pastimes, then those of Arcadia. As those Siconians were ancient, so they were maruellously addicted to follies, and superstitious in their vsages and customes; for among other, they honoured for their God the Moone: and during the time that shee was seene, they gaue their children sucke, imagining that the Moone shined vpon the brests of the mother, it would doe much good vnto the childe. The Authous hereof is Sinna Catullus, in the booke De edicandis pueris: and as the same Historian sayth, the Aegyptians were great enemies to the Siconians, so that all that which the one did allow, the others did repoue, as it appeareth: for, as much as the Siconians loued Oliues and Akorns, they were cloathed with linnen, and worshipped the Moone for their God. The Aegyptians for the contrary had no Oliues, neyther nourished they any Okes, they did weare no linnen, they worshipped the Sunne for their God: and aboue all, as the Siconians did giue their children sucke whiles the Moone did shine; so the Aegyptians gaue their children sucke whiles the Sunne did shine. Among other follies of the Caldeans this was one, that they honoured the Fier for their God, so that hee that was not marryed could not light Fier in his house: because, they sayd, the custodie of Gods should be committed to none but to married and ancient men.
They had in Mariages such order, that the day when any children did What order the Auncients vsed concerning marriage. marry, the Priests came into his house to light new Fire; the which neuer ought to bee put out vntill the houre of his death: and if perchance, during the life of the husband and of the wife, they should finde the fire dead and put out, the marriage betweene them was dead and vndone, yea, though they had beene fortie yeeres together before in such sort and of this occasion came the prouerbe which of many is read, and of few vnderstood; that is to say, Pronoke me not so much, that I throwe water into the fire.
The Caldeans vsed such wordes when they would diuorce and separate the marriage: for if the woman The custome of the Chaldeans. were ill contented with her husband, in casting a little water on the fire, immedately she might marry with an others and if the husband in like manner, did put out the fire, hee might with another woman contract marriage.
I haue not beene marryed as yet: but I suppose there are many Christians which wish to haue at this present the libertie of the Caldes: for I am well assured, there are many men which would cast water on the fire, to escape from their wiues: also I sweare, that there would be a number of women, which would not onely put out their fire, but also the ashes, imbers, and coales to make themselues free, and to bee dispatched of their husbands, and in especially from those which are iealous.
Therefore returning to our matter. The Caldeans made before the fire all notable things in their lawe, as before their God: for they did eate before the fire, they slept before the fire, they did contract before the fire, and the mothers did neuer giue the children sucke, but before the fire: for the milke (as they imagined) did profite the childe when it sucked before the fire, which was their God.
The Author of this that is spoken, [Page 262] is Cinna Catuilus.
The Mauritanians which at this present are called the realms of [...], were in times past warlike men, of whom the Romans had great victories, and the more valiant the men were in the warres: so much the more superstitious their wiues were in soceries, charmes, and enchantments▪ [...] the husband that is long ab [...]nt from his wife, ought not to maruell though in her bee founde some [...].
Cicero in the booke De Natura Deorum, and much more at large, Bocc [...]s sayeth, That as many men and women as were in that Realme, [...] many gods there were among the people▪ for euery one had one particular God to himselfe: so that the god of the one, was not the god of the other. And this was to bee vnderstood in the weeke dayes: for in the holy and festiuall dayes they had no other gods, the which altogether they did honour.
The manner that they had in choosing gods when a woman was with child was this: Shee went to the Sacrificer of the Idoll, and tolde him that shee was great with childe, and besought him to giue her a God for her child. And the sacrificer gaue her a little idoll of stone, gold, siluer, or of wood, the which the mother hanged at the necke of the child, And as often as the childe did sucke the dugge, so oft the mother putteth the Idoll on his face: for otherwise shee had not giuen him a droppe of milke to sucke, vnlesse first shee had consecrated to the god the milke of her brest. That which I haue spoken is little in respect of that I will speake, which is, that if perchance the child dyed before the time, or that any young man by some perilous mishap dyed before hee was somewhat ages: the Fathers and kinsmen of the dead did assemble, and came to the Idoll of him, and eyther stoned it, [...]ng it, drew it, burnt it, or else they cast it into the deepe well, saying, that sith the gods did kill man without reason, that they might lawfully kill them by iustice.
The same Bocchas in the second booke De Natura Deorum sayth, that the Allobroges had a custome, that those which were Priests of the gods, should from the wombe of their mothers bee chosen vnto that dignitie: And as soone as the childe was born, before he tasted the milke of the brest they earned it into a Priestes house: for they had a custome that the man, which had tasted the thinges of the world, merited not to serue the Gods in the Temples.
One of the lawes that they sayde Priests had, was that not onely they could not by violence shedde any bloud, nor yet see it, neyther touch it: so that immediately as the Priest should by chance touch mansbloud, euen so soone he lost his Priesthood. This law afterwards was so narrowly looked vnto, that the Priests of the Allobroges did not onely not shedde drinke, nor touch mans bloud when they were now men: but also when they were little infants (those that should bee Priests) they gaue them no milke of the brest at all. And this was their reason.
That to sucke milke was no other but to drinke white bloud, for white milke is but sodden bloud, and redde bloud is but raw milke.
Pulio in the booke de educandis pueris sayeth, That the Auncients had a certaine kinde of reedes, that breaking it in sunder, there issued white milke, wherewith they accustomed to nourish their children: but let it bee as it is, that this law prohibite children their milke, which hereafter should bee made Priestes of the [Page 263] temples: mee thinketh it a tricke rather of superstitious sorcerers then of religious Priests: For there is neyther diuine nor humane Law that will forbid, or prohibite any such thing, without the which mans life cannot endure. These were the maners and customes that the Ancients had in the nourture of their children.
And indeede I maruell not at that they did, for the Gentiles esteemed this cursed Idol as a great God: as wee Christians doe the true and liuing God. I was willing to declare all these antiquities, to the end that Princesses and great Ladies shoulde haue pleasure in reading them, and knowing them: but not to that end, they should imitate and follow them in any kind of thing: For according to the faith of our Christian Religion, as sure as wee be of the offences that those did vnto God, through following those superstitions: so sure wee are of the good seruices, which wee doe vnto God in forsaking them.
How long time the mothers ought to giue their children sucke, and what age they ought to weine them, not for that which I haue read, nor How long women ought to giue their children sucke. for that which I haue demaunded in this case, I am able to answere: but forasmuch as Aristotle sayeth in the booke aboue named, that the child at the most ought to sucke but two yeares, & at the least one yeare and a halfe: for if hee sucke lesse, he is in danger to be sicke, and if hee sucke more, he shall be alwayes tender. I will not omit that which Sextus Cheronensis sayeth, in the fourth booke of his common-wealth.
And hereof Bocohas also maketh mention in the third booke De natura Deorum, that when Alexander the Great passed into India, amongst other renowmed Philosophers, there was one with him called Arethus, who (as by chance he was in Nissa, an ancient City of India) there came a mā of the Countrey to shew him such antiquities as were there.
Arethus the Philosopher beheld them as a sage and wise man: for the simple man onely beholdeth the doings, and how they seeme: but the sage man enquireth and demandeth of the causes, and from whence they came.
Among other things he shewed this good Philosopher a great house, being in the end of the City, & therin were many women, whereof euery one of them had a chamber, and in euery chamber there was two beds, and adioyning to the one, herbs were sowen in maner of nettles, and adioining to the other, there was kind of twigges, as of Rosemary, and in the midst of the house, there were many graues of small children.
The Phylosopher Arethus asked Questions demanded by the Philosopher Arethus. why that house was so great, and the Indian answered.
This house is to nourish the Children which are Orphanes, when they bee of their Parents and friendes abandoned: For it is a custome in this City, that immediately when the Father of one chelde dyeth, the City then taketh him for her sonne. And from that time forward he is called the child of the City, which nourisheth him, and not the childe of the Father which begot him.
Arethus the Philosopher secondarily asked him, why there were so many women in that house, without any man among them? whereunto the Indian answered: In this Country there is a custome, that the women are seuered from their husbands, all the time they giue their children sucke. For the will of our God is, that the woman be not in company with her husband after, shee is with child, and this not onely vntil such time as shee is deliuered: but also [Page 264] vntill such time as the childe be wayned from the brest.
The Philosopher Arethus thirdly demaunded him, why euery one had her chamber seuerally? The Indian answered. Thou knowest that now naturally raigneth so much malice in the woman, that shee alwayes enuyeth the felicity of another, And if they were altogether, they would haue amongst them such quarrels & debates, that they would corrupt the milke which they should giue to the child.
Fourthly, the Philosopher Arethus asked; why in euery chamber there was a great bed, and a little pallet, since there was but one woman, and one child? whereunto the Indian answered. In this India they doe not consent that the Nurses should sleepe together in one bed with the young childe, whom they nourish: for when the women are heauy a sleepe, not taking heede to the childe, they many times ouerlay the poore infant, and so smother it aliue.
Fiftly, the Philosopher asked, why ioining to the beds, there was nettles which are without fauour in eating, and dangerous in touching. The Indian answered. I let thee know, that in this India (against al nature) the childrē weepe not whiles they are young, and therefore they haue growing by the beddes nettles to make them weepe: for our Philosophors tell vs, that if dayly the childe doth weepe two houres, it profiteth him not onely for the health of his body, but also for to prolong his life.
Furthermore the Philosopher for the sixt asked, why there were so many twigges like Rosemary by the bed side: whereunto the Indian aunswered. Know thou that in India, there is an olde plague, that wee cannot defende our selues from these witches, the which by their sorceries, and with the onely lookes of their eies destroy many children: and they say, that all the children which shall bee perfumed with those hearbes, can take no hurte through the lookes of those witches.
CHAP. XXIIII. Of a letter which Marcus Aurelius sent to his friend Dedalus, in the ende whereof he enuaieth against those women which cure children by sorceries charmes and enchantments.
PRincesses and great Ladyes ought to take heed that their nurses be not Witches, and that they doe not suffer the babes (whiles they are yet young) to take any charmes or sorceries: for the medicine putteth the life of the creature in perill, and those sorceries doe not onelie harme to the body of the child, but also to the soule of her selfe which vseth it. To prayse more them that are past, and to confound more the present. I will that those which shall reade this, doe reade a letter of Marcus Aurelius, which he sent to a friend of his, in the end whereof it appeareth how great enemies the Auncients were to Witches, Charmers, & to all kind of Sorcerers: for truely I know not which was greater, eyther the temperance that they had in nourishing their children being Gentiles or the foolish hardinesse which wee haue being Christians. Here followeth therefore the Letter, in the ende of the which hee speaketh against Witches and euill women.
The letter of the Emperour Marcus Aurelius.
MArcus Aurelius the Romane Emperour, fellow with his brother Annius Verus, in the same Empire, wisheth to thee Dedalus his speciall friend, health to thy person, and good fortune against all euill, Since the day that thou diddest take shipping at the Hauen of Ostia, I read no letter of thine, neyther haue I seen as yet any man of thy house: yea, and moreouer, they could not tell mee, whether thou wert aliue or dead. Wherefore thy friends did imagine that some mishap had befallen thee, and thy ship, or else for the misliking of the Country, thou shouldest returne againe, because that men, which doe sayle, as thou, goe alwayes in dangar to be drowned by some tempest; and if they doe escape they despayre in that strange Countrey by Tolitarinesse: but when I saw Fronton thy seruant, I was very ioyfull and much more when I vnderstood thou wert aliue after thy great trauell.
Truely I receiued great pleasure of that thou writest in thy letter, that thou art contented with the Countrey: for that to mee it is a strange thing, that a man beeing nourished in the delitiousnesse of Rome, should finde himselfe contented in in an other strange Realme and nation,
When Rome was Rome, and Italy was named great Greece, thither came of all sorts of people, and Nations to learne vertues and Noblenesse, When Rome flourished: and others for to giue themselues to vices and pleasures. Because, if Titus Liuins deceyue mee not, Rome spent all her treasures in Asia, and Asia employed all her vices and delicatenes in Rome.
Thou writest to mee in thy letter of so many thinges, and Fronton thy seruant hath tolde mee so many newes of that land, that by the immortall Gods I sweare vnto thee, I cannot tell what for to write vnto thee, nor what to aunswere thy seruant: For the more the straunge newes doe please the eares in hearing them, so much the more doe they seeme to bee vncredible.
The noble and stout personages, though they would bee esteemed and iudged true in their saying, hauing seene many wonders with their eyes: yet when they come to count them, then they ought to bee very moderate in their tongues.
For it is a shame to the honest How circumspect a man ought to bee to speake the truth. man to declare a thing, wherein may bee any doubt, whether it bee true or not.
I will briefly answere al the things of thy Letter, and the answere shall bee, not according to thy desire, but according to that I perceyue of thee, and the World:
And before I beginne, I beseech thee, if my penne shall erre in writing, that thy heart pardon mee. For thy few yeares as yet doe not let thee know the World: and my white hayres and hoarie beard doth giue mee authority to aduertise thee of that which is to come, and to condemne thee of that which is past.
Thou sayest that in the Sea, thou hast past many perils and dangers, and that for to lighten the shippe, thou diddest cast much of thy goods into the sea.
In this case me thinketh thou oughtest greatly to thanke the tempestuous waues, which hauing power to drowne thee, contented themselues with thy Marchandize: [Page 266] For they which sayle vpon the foming Seas, ought not to regarde so much the goods they loose, as the life which they saue.
Thou sayest that on the Seas thou werte greatly accompanyed with passengers, and that thou hast tarryed longer in thy voiage then thou thoghtest, or diddest desire.
This I say vnto thee my friend Dedalus, that though the dayes were manie thou diddest stay, yet notwithstanding the griefes were more which thou receyuedst. For it is vnpossible that those men which sayle much, should not be troubled with the Marriners, and also in feare of tempests.
To that I aunswere thee, the more thou wert loaden with companyons, the lesse thy money weighed: for it is a general rule, that where the iourney is long, and the companie great, there the purse of necessitie, must needes wexe thinne.
Thou sayest that through the moysture of the sea, as soone as thou wert landed, thou diddest feele thy selfe taken with the goute.
To this I answere thee, that thou hast the gout in thy feet, or else in thy What property belongeth to the goute. hands and if thou hast it in thy feete, it shall be an occasion that thou shalt keepe thy house, and if thou hast it in thy hands, it shall bee an occasion that thou shalt play no more at Tables (as thou werte wont to doe) and also thou shalt not waste (as thou hast done) thy owne money. And if thou hast not changed thy cōdition which thou haddest, I am assured, that onely for to encrease thy goods, thou wilt thinke thy goute welcome.
Thou sayest in that Countrey, thou hast found many soueraigne & expert Physitians for to remedy thy diseases.
To that I answere, as Plato sayeth that in the Countrey where there is many Physitians, there are many vices, and many vicious: for man by excessiue delicatenes commeth to sicknesse, and by that meane trauell hee is healed.
As long as our auncient Fathers were without Physitians in Rome, which was foure hundred yeares, so long and no more they shewed them selues sober in eating and drinking: For euen as by temperance health proceedeth, so of Physicke proceedeth gluttonie.
Thou sayest that the Country is verie fertile, and that amongst other things there is much wood which we lacke here in Rome. To this I answer that if thou hast much wood, thou hast little bread: for it is an ancient Prouerbe, that where the fires are great, the barnes are few. And if thou sayst thou art content with the wood of that Country, I let thee know that I am not discontented with the bread of Italy: for in the ende a man shall sooner finde wood to heate the euen then corne to carrie to the [...]ill. Truly it is a good thing to haue woode for the winter: but it is better to haue corne for the Winter and Summer: for they call it no hunger, when wood lacked for the aged; but when bread wanteth for the young.
Thou sayest in that Country there are many waters, and that the water is verie cleare and cold: and further that the aboundance thereof is such, that euery house hath a fountain. To this I answere thee, that where the waters doe abound, there wanteth health continually.
And I doe not maruell thereat, for the moyste and dankish places are alwayes most daungerous, vnhealthfull, and noysome.
If this had beene in the time of the Golden World, when men know not what wine meant, but that all dranke Water, without comparison that Countrey would haue [Page 267] beene better then this. For the more the drunkennes of Wine is infamous, the more sweeter and profitable is that of the water,
Thou knowest well, that a Fountaine which I haue in my gardaine (by the streete Salaria,) was occasion that at one time seuen of my House dyed together. And if I had not made a conduit to voyde the standing water, I thinke it had made an ende of mee, and of my Family. Wherfore I pray thee haue respect vnto the health of thy person, rather then to enioy the freshnes of the water.
For my part I thinke him onely happie, who hath his bodie healthfull, and his heart at ease. Prayse as much the land as they will, enioy thou the freshnes thereof as much as thou canst, and fill thee with the fresh and cold water, and write vnto thy friends how plentie it is: in the end I sweare vnto thee, my deare Friende Dedalus, that more Money shall issue out of Rome, to buye wine in Candia, then buttes of the cold water of that countrey shall enter into Rome.
Againe, thou sayest that in that countrey there is such aboundance of fruites: and that thou thinkest thou shalt neuer be satisfied therewith. To that I answer.
That thing which I best like, is a winter fruite: yet neyther seeing it, nor eating it, I can content my selfe: For the country where Fruits abound in winter, is neuer without feuers and sicknesses in Summer.
Octauian Augustus that Noble Emperour of famous memorie, seeing that Rome in Summer, was very much subiect to diseases: gaue commaundement What inconueniēce commeth by eating too much fruit. vpon grieuous penalties, that the fruites of Salon should not enter into Rome to be solde,
And this is a maruellous thing, that the Citie of Rome by this meanes did not only finde her selfe sound and whole: but also the Physitians went out of Rome, of their owne wills and affections. For it is a great token that the people is healthfull, when the Phisitians are poore.
Thou sayest that in that Countrey there are many Iugglers and Players: To this I aunswer thee.
That theyr pastimes shall not bee vnto thee such, and so pleasaunt, as the griefs and displeasures thou shalt haue, when they cunningly and craftily What hurt commeth by Iugglers and players. shall picke thy purse. For most commonly Iugglers and plaiers make Playes and sportes in jeast, but they will be payde in good earnest.
Furthermore thou sayest: in that Countrey there is great aboundance of Vines, and that the wine is sauourie to smell, and very sweete and pleasaunt, for theyr taste: whereunto I answer.
That there shall not bee so manie vynes in the Fieldes, as Drunkardes amongst the people: For, as thou knowest, the day that I marryed Torpina, my Niece, my vnckle Getellius had but onely one vine tree, and yet with the Wine that came thereof, he made himselfe, his household, and all those that were at the marriage drunke.
That which I will say is not without weeping, (in the olde time) Mars was the God moste honoured and esteemed, being the God of Battells: but now Bacchus, which is God of wine, is the most honoured, serued, and exalted.
For the time that a Romane was wont to employ in the Martial Camp to handle Warlike weapons: now they consume in playing and drinking in the rauernes.
Titus Liuius in his Annales, sayeth, that those of Gallia Transalpina, vnderstanding, Titus Liuius. how that the Italians had planted many vines, came to conquer the Countety. So that if they [Page 268] had neuer planted vines in Italie, the French-men had neuer destrolyed the Countrey.
The auncient Romaines (which were prouided against all inconueniences) considering that Wine was the cause of their destruction, commaunded to destroy all the Vynes of the Empyre, through the which pollicie, they were The pollicy of the auncient Romaines. deliuered from all the French-men: for when the Warres were ended, there remained not one French-man in all Italie, when they knewe that there were no more Vynes therein. Thou sayest that in that Countrey there are many Gentlemen and honorable Senators, with whom thou talkest, and passest away the time.
To this I answere, that if it be true, there are many idle men, and also few true talkers: For those men which haue spent their youth in the warres, when they are aged, doe not employe their time but in hearing newes, and telling lyes.
Thou sayedst, that there are very faire women in that countrey, of gesture seemely, and of their persons comely;
To this I answere. That if there be many which be faire, there are as manie which are dishonest. For if the woman with her beautie, hath not wisdome and honestie in her selfe, she putteth her selfe in perill, and her husband in much care,
Thou sayest that in that Countrey there are women which are Soothsayers, Sorcerers, and Enchantours: the which do boast and vaunt themselues that they will heale Infants, and that they can weyne them better then others can doe.
To this I answere: that I would iudge it much better, that Children should neuer be healed by the hands of such euill women. For the profite that they doe by their experience openly, is nothing in respect of the danger wherin they put the creatures, by their Sorceries secretly.
Torquatus Laertius my Vnckle, had a Daughter of a maruellous beautie, the which (because he had none other Childe,) was heyre of all his Patrimonie.
The case therefore was such: that as the Daughter one day cryed and wept a little too much, the Nurse which gaue her sucke, to appease and still her, thinking to giue her sorceries to cast her in a sleepe, gaue her poyson, which destroyed her; So that when the teares of the innocent babe ceased, then the cryes of the woefull mother beganne.
Calligula which was the sonne of the good Germanicus the great (though amongst the Caesars hee was the fourth, and amongst the Tyrants, the first) when in Rome they vsed to giue little scrowles written, which they saide to bee of such vertue, that they could heale all manner of Agues, and diseases of young children, hee gaue commaundement by the consent of the sacred Senate, that whosoeuer eyther man or woman, which should make them, should immediately by iustice be put to death: and that he which would buye them, and carrie them about to sell, or giue them through the citie of Rome, should be whipt and bashed for euer,
Thy seruant Fronton hath told me newes, that thou hast a Sonne borne, whereof I am very glad: and moreouer, he saide that a woman of Sannia did nourishit, and gaue it sucke: the which (as by an euill chaunce) hath a spice of Sorcerie.
Now by the immortall Gods I do conjure thee, and for the loue which I beare thee, againe I most earnestly desire thee, that immediatly thou put her away out of thy house, and suffer not, that so wicked a woman should eate Bread there one day: For euery [Page 269] creature which is nourished by sorceries and Charmes, shal eyther haue his life short, or else Fortune shall be contrarie vnto him.
I let thee know my friend Dedalus, that I haue not maruelled a little at many Romains, the which doe permit, and also procure that their Children should bee healed and cured with charmes and sorceries? For my part I take it to bee a thing certaine, that the men which by the will of God fall sicke, shall neuer heale for any diligence that man can do. And whereas children are sicke by euill humors, or that they are not very healthful, because the gods wil take life from them: in this case if their disease proceed of any euill humour, let them aske Physitions for naturall medicines. And if their diseases come because the Gods God the onely Physitian. are prouoked: then let their Fathers appease the Gods with sacrifices. For in the end it is vnpossible that the diseases of the heart should be healed by the meanes of any Medicines of the bodie.
Doe not maruell (my Friend Dedalus) if I haue spoken more in this article then in others, that is to say, to perswade thee so much to keepe thy children from witches: For otherwise the cursed Women will doe them more harme, then the good milke shal profite them.
I haue beene moued and prouoked to write thus much vnto thee, for the great loue which I do beare thee: and also calling to minde that which thou (when we were in the sacred Senate) oft times toldest me: which was, that thou diddest desire a sonne. And since now thou hast thy petition, I would not thou shouldst prouoke the Gods wrath by sorceries: For in the faith of a good man I doe sweare vnto thee, that when the Fathers are in fauour with the Gods, there needeth no sorceries vnto the Children.
I had manie other things to write vnto thee: Some of the which I will cōmunicate with thy seruant Fronton, rather then to send them by letters. And maruel not at this, for letters are so perillous, that if a man be wise, hee wil write no more in a close letter, thē he would declare openly in Rome: Pardon me my friend Dedalus, though indeede I write not vnto thee as thy appetite would, nor yet as my will desireth. For thou hast need to know many things, and I haue not leaue by letter to put thee in trust therewith.
I cannot tell what I should write vnto thee of me, but that alwayes the Goute doth take me, and the worst of all is, that the more I growe in yeares, the more my health diminisheth: For it is an old course of mans frailtie, that where wee thinke to goe most surest, there haue we most lets. The mutabilitie of mans life.
The Popinjay which thou didst send me, as soone as I receyued it, my wife did seaze it, and truely it is a maruellous pleasure to heare what thinges it doth speak: but in the end the women are of such power, that when they wil, they impose silence to the liuing, and cause that in the graues the dead men speake.
According to that I doe loue thee, and according to that I owe thee, and as I haue vsed, that which I doe sende thee is very little. I say it, because that presently I do send thee but two horses of Barbarie, twelue swords of Alexandrie, and to Fronton thy seruant for a new yeares gift, for his good newes, I haue giuen him an Office, which is worth to him 20. thousand Sexterces of Rent in Cecyl.
Faustine did bid mee I should send thy wife Perusa, a cofer full of odoriferous odours of Palestine, and another cofer full of her owne Apparrel: the which (as I thinke) thou wilt not a little esteeme. For naturally Women are of theyr owne Goods niggardes: [Page 270] but in wasting & spending of others very prodigall. The Almighty gods bee with thee, and preserue thee from euill fortune. The which I humbly beseech to graunt, that vnto thee and mee, and vnto my wife Faustine, and to thy wife Pertusa, that we all meete merily together in Rome: for the heart neuer receyueth such ioy, as when hee seeth himselfe with his desired friend. Marcus of Mount Celio writeth to thee with his own hand.
CHAP. XXV. How excellent a thing it is for a Gentleman to haue an eloquent tongue,
ONe of the chiefest things that the Creatour gaue to man, was to know, and be able to speake: What difference there is betweene man and beast. for otherwise (the soule reserued) the brute beasts are of more value, then dumbe men. Aristotle in his Aesconomices without comparison prayseth more the Pythagoricall sort, then the Stoicall: saying, that the one is more conforme to reason, then the other is. Pythagoras commaunded, that al men which were dumbe, and without speech, should immediately, and without contradiction be banished, and expulsed from the people. The cause why this Phylosopher had commanded such things was, for so much as he saide, that the tongue is moued by the motions of the soule, and that he which had no tong, had no soule: And hee which hath no soule is but a brute beast, and he that is a beast, deserueth to serue in the fieldes among brute beasts.
It is a good thing not to bee dumbe as bruite beasts are, and it is a greater thing to speake as the reasonable men doe: but it is much more worthy to speake wel, as the eloquent Philosophers doe. For otherwise if hee which speaketh, doth not weigh the sentences more then the wordes, oft times the Popingayes shall content thē more which are in the cage, then the men which doe reade in Schooles.
Iosephus in the booke De Bello Iudaico sayeth, That King Herod, not onely with his person and goods, but Ioseph de bello Iudaic. also with all his friends and parents followed, and gaue ayde to Marcus Anthonius, and to his louer Cleopatra, howbeit in the end Octauian had the victory: For the man which for the loue of a woman doth enterprise conquests, it is impossible that eyther he lose not his life, or else that hee liue not in infamy,
Herod seeing that Marcus Antonius was dead, determined to go towards the Emperour Octauian, at whose feet he layd his crowne, and made a notable Oration, wherein hee spake so pleasant words, and so high sentences, that the Emperour Octauian did not onely pardon him, for that hee was so cruell an enemie, but also hee confirmed him again vnto his realm: and tooke him for his deare and speciall friend.
For among the good men, and noble hearts, many euill workes are amended by a few good works.
If Blundus, in the booke intituled Roma triumphante, do not deceiue me Pirrus that great King of the Epirotes was stoute and hardy, valiant in armes, liberall in benefices, patient in aduersities, and aboue al renowned to be very sweet in words, and sage in his answeres.
They sayde that this Pirrus was so eloquent, that the man with whome once hee had spoken, remained so [Page 271] much his, that from that time forward in his absence, hee tooke his part, and declared his life and state in presence.
The aboue named Blundus sayed and Titus Liuius declareth the same, That as the Romaines were of all things prouided (seeing that King Pyrrus was so eloquent) they prouided in the Senate, that no Romane Ambassadour should speake vnto him, but by a third person: for otherwise he would haue perswaded them through his sweet words, that they should haue returned againe to Rome as his procurers and soliciters: Albeit Marcus Tullius Cicero was Senatour in the Senate, Consull in the Empire, rich amongst the rich, and hardy amongst men of warre: yet What caused Cicero to bee famous. truely none of these qualities caused him eternall memorie, but onely his excellent eloquence.
This Tullius was so esteemed in Rome for the eloquence of his tongue onely, that oft times they heard him talke in the Senate three houres together, without any man speaking one word. And let not this bee little esteemed, nor lightly passed ouer: for worldly malice is of such condition, that some man may easily speake foure houres, then another man shal haue patience to heare him one minute. Antonius Sobellicus declareth that in the time of Amilcares the Affrican, a Philosopher named Afronio, flourished in great Carthage, who being of the yeares of 81, dyed in the first yeere of the wars of Punica: they demaunded this Philosopher, what it was that he knew? he answered, He knew nothing but to speake well. They demaunded him againe what hee learned? He answered, Hee did learne nothing but to speake well. Another time they demaunded him what hee taught? Hee answered, He taught nothing but to speake well. Me thinketh that this good Philosopher in fourescore yeares and one said, that he learned nothing but to speake well, hee knew nothing but to speake well, and that he taught nothing but to speake well. And truely hee had reason, for the thing which most adorneth mans life, is the sweet pleasant tongue to speake well what is it to see two men in one counsell, the one talking to the other, the one of them hath an euill grace in propounding, and the other excellent in speaking.
Of such there are some, that in hearing them talke three houres, wee would neyther be troubled nor wearied, and of the contrary part, there are others so tedious, and rude in their speech, that as soone as men perceiue they beginne to speake they auoyde the place.
And therefore in mine opinion, there is no greater trouble then to hearken one quarter of an houre a rude man to speake, and to be contrary, there is no greater pleasure then to heare a discreete man though it were a whole weeke.
The diuine Plato in the Booke of Lawes sayde, that there is nothing whereby a man is known more then by the words he speaketh: for of the The opiniō of Plato wordes which we heare him speake, we iudge his intention eyther to bee good or euil. Laertius in the life of the Phylosopher saieth, that a young childe borne at Athens, was brought vnto Socrates the great phylosopher, being in Athens, to the ende he should receyue him into his companie, and teach him in his Schoole. The yong childe was strange and shamefast, and durste not speake before his Maister, wherefore the Phylosopher Socrates sayd vnto him, Speake friend, if thou wilt that I know thee This sentence of Socrates was very profound, I pray him that shall reade this writing, to [Page 272] pause a while thereat. For Socrates will not that a man be known by the gesture he hath, but by the good or euill wordes which he speaketh.
Though eloquence and speaking well, to euery man is a cause of augmenting their honour, and no diminisher of their goods: yet without comparison it shineth much more, & is most necessary in the Pallaces of Princesses and great Lords; for men which haue common offices, ought of necessity hearken to his naturall Countrimen, and also to speake with strangers.
Speaking therefore most plainely, I say, that the Prince ought not to trauell onely to haue eloquence, for the honour of his person: but also it behoueth him for the Commonwealth.
For as the Prince is but one, and is serued of all: so it is vnpossible that hee haue so much as will satisfie and content them all. And therefore it is necessary that hee requite some with money, and that hee content others with good words: For the Noble heart loueth better a gentle worde, then a reward or gift, with the tong of a rude man.
Plato, Liuius, Herodotus, Vulpicius, Eutropius, Diorus, Plinie, and many other innumerable ancient Historiographers, doe not cease to prayse the eloquence of Greeke princes, and Latines in their workes.
Oh how blessed were those times, when there were sage Princes, and discreete Lordes: truely, they haue reason to exalt them. For many haue obtayned, and wonne the royall crownes and scepters of the Empire, not so much for the great battels they haue conquered, nor for the high bloud and generation from whence they are discended, as for the wisedome and eloquence which they had.
Marcus Aurelius was naturall of Rome, borne in Mount Celio, hee was poore in patrimony, and of base lynage, little in fauour, left and forsakē of his parents; and besides all this, onely for being vertuous in this life, profound in doctrine, and of so high eloquence, the Emperour Antonius (called Pius) gaue him his daughter Faustine for wife, who being reproued of many, because he gaue his daughter to so poore a Philosopher, answered. I had rather haue a poore Philosopher then a rich foole.
Pulio in his seuenth booke of the Romaine lawes sayth, that in Rome there was a law very well kept, and obserued of the Consels by a custom brought in, that the Dictators, Censor and Emperors of Rome, entred into the Senate once in the weeke at the least, and in this place they should giue and render account, in what state the common wealth remayned. O would to God that at this present this Law were so kept and obserued: for there is none who doth minister so good iustice, as he which thinketh to giue account of his doings.
They say that Caligula, the fourth Emperour of Rome, was not onelie deformed infamous, and cruell in his life, but also was an Idiot in eloquēce, and of an euill vtterance in his communication: so that hee among all the Romane Princes was constrained to haue others to speake for him in the Senate.
This wicked man was so vnfortunate, that after his cruell and infamous death, they drew him throughout Rome, and set vpon his graue this Epitaph.
I Cannot tell why Princes do praise themselues to be strong and hardie, to bee well disposed, to bee runners, to iust well, and doe not esteeme to be eloquent, since it is true, that those gifts doe profite them onely for their life, but the eloquence profiteth them not onely for to honour their life, but also to augment their renowne: For wee doe reade, that by that many Princes did pacifie great seditions in the common wealth, and besides that they deserued immortall memory. Suetonius Tranquillus in the first book of Caesars sayth, that the aduenturous Iulius Caesar (being as yet but 16. yeares of age) when there dyed in The commendation of Iulius Caesar. Rome an aunt of his called Cornelia, at her buriall hee made an Oration, in the which hee (beeing so young,) shewed maruellous great eloquence, which was so accepted that day in al people, that in the end, euery man iudged him to bee a valiant Romane Captaine.
And as Appianus declareth, they say that Silla spake these words. That which I perceyue of this young man Caius Caesar is, that in the boldnesse of his tongue, he declareth how valiant he ought to bee in his person. Let therefore Princes and great Lordes see, how much it may profite them to know to speake well and eloquently, For wee see no other thing dayly but that a man of base lynage, by his eloquence commeth to be exalted: and the other which of linage is nobly borne for want of speaking well, and being eloquent, is the first that discendeth most vilest of all other.
The intention whereupon I wrote these things was for no other, but to admonish, perswade, and pray all princes and great Lords, that whiles their children are young, they should put them to wise and learned men, to the end they should teach them: not onely how they ought to liue, but also how they ought to speake: For to persons of estate, it is a great infamy to doe, or to inuent to doe a thing, & afterward not to know how to giue a reason thereof.
Polidorus in the third booke of his Commentaries sayth, that when the Lacedemonians were put to flight by the Athenians: In rota milina, it is called Milina, because the battell was in the riuer of Miline, the Lacedemonians sent a Philosopher called Heuainus, to treate of peace with the Athenians, who made such an eloquent Oration to the Senate of Athens, that he did nor onely obtaine the Peace which hee desired for his Countrey, but for himselfe also hee wan perpetuall renowne. At the Philosophers returne the Athenians gaue him a letter which sayd in this sort.
CHAP. XXVI Of a Letter which the Athenians sent to the Lacedemonians.
THe Senate, people, & Sages of Athens wisheth health to the persons, and peace to the Common wealth, of you of the Senate, and people of the Lacedemonians. Wee take the immortall Gods to recorde, that in the last battell we had no lesse displeasure to see you ouercome, then on the contrary wee had pleasure, to see vs remaine victorious: for in the end, the daungers and inconueniences of the cruell warres are so great, [Page 274] that the euill and danger is certain to them that are vanquished, and the profite is doubtfull to them that haue ouercommed.
We would gladly, that that which now yee will, yee would haue willed sooner, and that which now yee require and demaund, that before yee had required and demanded,
But what shall we doe, since it was ordayned to your and our wofull destinies, that hee should lose the battell, and that wee of your losse can take no profite: For it is a rule vnfallible, that all that which the Gods haue ordayned, no worldly wight can auoyde, nor humane power resist. Yee demaund that warre may leaue and cease off, and that wee take truce for three monethes, and that duriyg this time, peace and concord may be concluded. To this wee make answere, That the Senate of Athens hath not accustomed to grant peace, afterward for to returne to warre: for amongst vs Athenians wee haue an ancient Law, that freely wee doe accept the cruell warre, and liberally we doe graunt perpetuall peace.
In our Schooles and Vniuersities we trauell to haue Sages in time of peace, for to help vs with their counsels in the time of warre. And they doe counsell vs that wee neuer take vpon vs truce vpon suspect condition: And indeed they counsell vs well: for the fayned and dissembled peace is much more perillous, then is the manifest warre.
The Philosopher Heuxinus your Ambassadour hath spoken to vs so highly and eloquently in this Senate, that it seemed to vs very vniust, if wee should deny him, and gaine-say that hee requireth vs.
For it is much more honesty to grant him peace; which by sweet and pleasant words doth demaund it: then him, which by force and sharpe sword doth require it.
Let the case therefore be, that the Senate, people and Sages of Athens haue ordained, that warre doe cease with the Lacedemonians, and that all discordes, contentions, dissentions, and debates doe end, and that perpetual peace bee granted vnto them:
And this thing is done to the end all the world should know, that Athens is of such courage with the hardie, and so very a friend to the Sages: that she knoweth how to punish the foolish Captaines, and suffereth to bee commanded and gouerned by sage Phylosophers. Yee know right well that all our warre hath not been, but onely for the possession of Cities and limits of the riuer Milina,
Wherefore by this letter wee declare vnto you, and by the immortall Gods wee sweare, that wee doe renounce vnto you al our right on such condition, that you do leaue vs Heuxinus your Ambassadour and Philosopher.
The great Athens desireth rather a Philosopher for her Schooles, then a whole Prouince of your Realmes. And do not you other Lacedemonians thinke, that that which wee of Athens doe, is light or foolish, that is to say, that wee desire rather one man to rule, then to haue a whole Prouince whereby wee may commaund many.
For this Philosopher shall teach vs to liue well, and that land gaue vs occasion to dye euill: and sith wee now of your old enemies do become your true friendes, we will not onely giue you perpetuall peace, but also counsell for to keepe it. For the medicine which preserueth health is of greater excellency, then is the purgation which healeth the disease.
Let the counsell therefore bee such, that as yee will the young men doe exercise themselues in weapons, that [Page 275] so yee doe watch and see that your children in time doe learne good letters: For euen as the warre by the cruell sword is followed: so likewise by pleasant words peace is obtained. Thinke not yee, Lacedemonians, that without a cause we do perswade you, that you put your children to learne, when as yet they are but young and tender, and that yee doe not suffer them to runne to vices? for on the one part, wise men shall want to counsell, and on the other, fooles shall abound to make debate. We Atbenians, in like manner, will not that yee Lacedemonians doe thinke, that wee bee friends to bablers. For our Father Socrates ordained, that the first lesson which should be giuen to the Scholler of the Vniuersity, The ordinances of Socrates. should be, that by no meanes hee should speake any word for the space of two yeares: for it is vnpossible that any man should be wise in speaking, vnlesse he haue patience to be silent. Wee thinke, if you thinke it good, that the Philosopher Heuxinus shall remaine in our Senate, and thinke you if wee profite by his presence, that yee may bee assuted that others shall not receyue any damage by the counsels hee shall giue vs: For in Athens it is an ancient Law, that the Senate cannot take vpon them wars; but by the Philosophers first it must bee examined, whether it be iust or not.
We write none other thing, but that wee beseech the immortall gods that they bee with you, and that it please them to continue vs in this perpetuall peace: for that onely is perpetuall, which by the Gods is confirmed.
CHAP. XXVII. That Nurses which giue sucke to the children of Princes ought to be discreete and sage women.
THe Pilgrims which trauell through vnknowne Countries and strange mountaines (wth great desire to goe forward, and not to erre) doe not onely aske the way which they haue to goe, but also do importune those whom they meete, to point them the way with their finger: For it is a grieuous thing to trauell doubtfully in feare and suspition: By this comparison I mean, that since I haue much perswaded, that the Fathers do learne and teach their children to speake well, it is but reason that they doe seeke them some good Masters. For the counsell hath no authority, if hee which giueth it, seeketh not speedily to execute the same.
It is much for a man to bee of a good nature, or else to bee of an euill How euerie man ought to guide & gouerne himselfe. inclination, to bee rude in vnderstanding, or else to bee liuely in spirit: and this not onely for that a man ought to doe, but also for that hee ought to say: For it is no small thing, but a great good benefite, when the man is of a good nature, of a good vnderstanding, and of a cleare iudgement. This notwithstanding, I say, that all the good and cleare iudgements are not alwayes eloquent, nor all the eloquentest of liuely spirites and vnderstanding.
Wee see many men which of a small matter can make much: and [Page 276] for the contrarie wee see many men, which haue great knowledge, and yet no mean s to vtter it. So that nature hath giuen them high vnderstanding, and through negligence of bringing vp it is hid.
Oftentimes I doe maruell that the soule of the Babe when it is borne, for the one part is of no lesse excellencie, then the soule of the olde man when hee dyeth. And on the other side I muse at the babe which hath the members so tender, (wherewith the soule doth worke his operations) that they little seeme to participate with reasonable creatures.
For where the soule doth not shewe her selfe mistresse, it wanteth little but that the man remaineth a beast.
It is a wonder to see the Children, that as yet being two yeares of Age, they lifte heir feete for to goe, they holde themselues by the walls for falling, they wil open their eyes to know and they fourme a defuzed voyce to speake: So that in that age, a creature is none otherwise then as a tree at the first spring. For the Tree two moneths Children compared to Trees. beeing past, beareth leaues immediatly: and the childe after ij. years beginneth to frame his words.
This thing is spoken, for that the Fathers which are wise, should begin to teache their children at that Age: For about that time the Vynes beare grapes, and other trees their fruite: For the perils of this life are such, that if it were possible, the Father before he see his Sonne borne, ought to admonish him how he should liue.
In mine opinion, as they conueigh the water about to turne the Mill: So from the tender youth of the Infant, they ought to shewe and teach him to bee eloquent and affable. For truely the Childe learneth distinctly to pronounce his words, when he doth sucke the milke of his Nurse.
We cannot denie, but that the children beeing but two or three yeares olde, it is too soone to giue them maisters or correcters, For at that Age a Nurse to keepe them cleane is more necessarie, then a maister to correct their speech.
On the one part the children are very tender for to learne to speake well: and on the other part it is necessarie, that when they are very young and little, they should be well taught and instructed.
I am of that opinion, that Princesses and great Ladyes should take such Nurses to giue theyr Children sucke, that they should bee sound, to giue How to choose Nurses for children. them their milke, and sage for to teach them to speake. For in so young and tender Age they doe not suffer, but that shee which giueth them sucke, doth teach them to speake their first words.
As Sextus Cheroner sis in the booke of the diuersitie of the Languages, saith: That the Toscanes were the first which called the natural tongue of the countrey, the Mother tongue, (which is to say, the tongue of our Mother) to the ende we should take it of the Mother which bringeth vs forth: and of the Nurse which giueth vs sucke. And in this case we haue lesse neede of the Mother then of the Nurse. For the children before they know their Mothers, which brought them into the world, doe call the Nurse mother, that gaue them sucke.
Plutarche in the second booke of the Regiment of Princes, saith: that one of the greatest thinges the Romaines had in their Commonweale was, that of all the Languages and manners which they spake; thoroughout the whole earth, they had Colledges and Scholes in Rome: so that were he neuer so barbarous that entered into Rome, immediately hee found that vnderstood him.
The Romaines vsed that craft and [Page 277] subtiltie, to the ende that when Rome sent Embassadors into strange Countreys, or that some strange Countreys came to Rome, they would that the Ent [...]rpretours and brokers should be of theyr owne Nation, and not of a strange tongue or Countrey.
And truely the Romaines had reason: for the affaires of great importance, are oftentimes craftely compassed by a straungetongue.
A man will maruell greatly to read, or heare this that I speake: which is, that the Women which nourish the children of Princes be eloquent.
And truly he that at this doth maruell, hath seen little, and read lesse. For I cannot tell which was greater, the glory that the Ancients, had to enjoy so excellent women: or the infamy of The glory of the Ancients to enioy vertuous women. them that are present, to suffer dishonest Harlots. I will not denie, when I drew neere this matter, that my spirits were not in great perplexitie: First to see in this my writing, of what women my Pen should write, (that is to say) the dissolute vices of Women which I haue s [...]n, or else the prowesses and vertues of women whereof I haue read. Finally, I am determined to intreate of our Graine, and Corne, and to leaue the rotten strawe on the Earth, as without profite. For the tongue which is noble, ought to publish the goodnes of the good and honest women, to the ende that all know it: for the contrarie, the frailenesse of the wicked ought to bee dissembled, and kept secret, to the ende that no man follow it.
Men which are sage and noble, treating of Women, are bound to visite them, to preserue them, and to defend them: but in no wise they haue licence to slaunder them.
For the man which speaketh of the frailenes of women, is like vnto him that taketh a sworde to kill a flie.
Therefore touching the matter, Princesses and great Ladies ought not to cease to teach their young children all that they can, sonnes, or daughters. And they ought not to deceyue themselues, saying, that foras much as their daughters are Women, they are vnable to learne sciences: for it is not a generall rule, that all men children are of cleane vnderstanding, nor that all the daughters are of rude spirite and wit: for if they and the others did learne together, I thinke there would bee as many wise women, as there are foolish men. Though the world in times past did enioy excellent women, there was neuer any Nation had such as the Greekes had: For though the Romanes were glorious in weapons, the Greekes were of immortall memorie of letters.
I will not deny that in the common wealth of Rome, there hath not beene nourished and taught many women of great science: but that the difference of the one and the other was, that the Grecian women were learned in Philosophy, and the Romane Greece euer famous for learned women. women in Rethoricke and Poetrie.
And hereof came that in Athens, they esteemed to know how to teach well: and in Rome they vaunted how to speake well.
Euphronius in the third booke of the Romane gestes sayeth, that in the third yeare of the Consulship of Lelius Sylla, by chance a Greeke Ambassador, and an Ambassadour of Rome, were at wordes in the Senate of the Rhodians, & the Greeke Ambassadour sayd to the Romane Ambassador; It is true, that amongst you other Romanes, you are aduenturous in armes: but for all that, you are vnable in sciences: For truely the women of Greece know more in letters, then the men of Rome in weapons.
As soone as the Senate of Rome [Page 278] vnderstoode those words, immediatly hereupon grew the cruell wars betweene Rome and Carthage about the possession of Sicill.
And no man ought hereat to maruell; for in the end we see more wars arise by iniurious words, then for to recouer the good that is lost. The Romanes and the Grecians therefore being ready the one to defie the other, the Rhodians came in the middest, and kept them from such debate, and in the end appointed them in this sort.
That is to say, that as this iniurie should by weapons haue been determined, they ordayned that by the disputations of women it should bee argued.
And truely the Romanes were counselled well; for it was greater shame to the Greekes to bee ouercome with the tongues of women, then with the swords of men. The cause thereof was such, that by appointment Disputation betweene the women of Greece and Rome. assembled at Rhodes ten Roman women, and ten Greeke women: All women very well learned, the which in their chairs read certain lessons, euery one after other, and afterwardes the one disputed against the other of sundry and diuers matters.
And finally, there was betweene them great difference, for the Greeks spake very high things, not so profound, but with an excellent stile. We ought not to maruell that such giftes were in those women: for wee dayly see it by experience, that profound science and high eloquence seldome meeteth in one personage.
The Greekes were very well pleased to heare the Romane women, and the Romaines remained astonied to heare the Greekes. And vpon this occasion the Rhodians iudged in this sort, that euery one of them should be crowned with a crowne of Lawrel as vanquishers. And they iudged that in graue sentences the Grecians had the best, and in eloquent speech the Romanes had the victory. As the aboue named Euphronius sayeth, the disputations beeing ended, the Romane women returned to Rome: & the Greeke women to Greece, where they were receiued with such triumph and glory, as if they had won a battel, The Senate of the Rhodians for the memory of those women (in the place of the disputations) caused to bee set vp 20. pillers, in euery one of the which were the names of the women. Which was so sumptuous a building that in Rhodes there were none like to it, saue only the Collyseo. Those pillers stood vntill the time of Heliogabalus the Emperour, who was so euill that The wickednes of Heliogabalus. he inuented new vices, and destroied the ancient memories.
The writers which write in that time, declare yet another thing, wherin the women of Greece were differēt from the women of Rome. That is to say, that the Greeke women were foūd more fairer then the Romane women: but the Romanes had a better grace & more rich in apparel then the Greeks. They sayd also that the Greekes were more hardy and stout then the Romanes: but the Romanes were more honest, pleasant, and gracious then the Greekes.
And if this be true, I do counsell Princesses and great Ladies that they haue no more enuy at the honesty of the Matrones of Rome, then at the boldnes of the Ladies of Gretia. For women were not born to slay men in the warre, but to spin, sowe, and liue well like good housewiues in the house.
CHAP. XXVIII. That women may bee no lesse wise then men, and though they bee not, it is not through default of nature, but for want of good bringing vp.
CEasing to speake in generally, it is but reason wee speake particularly, and that wee reduce to memory some ancient histories of wise and discreete women, as well Greekes as Romans: & for that these Ladies (seeing what others were in times past) may know what their duty is at this present.
In mine opinion, the duty that the men of this present haue to follow the courage that the Ancients had in fighting: the selfe same desire ought women of this present to haue, to follow the ancient women in deuout liuing: for there is no good thing in the world at this present day, but the like hath been seene of our ancients heretofore. When any sudden new and vnaccustomed thing doth happen, men that neuer saw the like, vse to say, that there was neuer the like in the world, yet indeed they say not true: for though the thing bee vnto them new, it is through their ignorance and simplenesse which neither haue read it by themselues, nor heard it of others: or this excellency hath the man that is learned, that for what soeuer hee heareth or sayth, hee is nothing abashed at.
Since women now a dayes are so ignorant, that scarcely any of them can reade well, hee that shall reade this will maruell why I doe perswade them to learne: but the truth known what the Ancients were, and what they did know: from this time forward I beleeue they would greatlie reproue the women of this present: for the time which the ancient women spent in vertues and studies: The ancient women farre excelled these in our times. These of this present consume in pleasures and vices.
Bocchas in the prayse of Women sayth, that Lucius Sylla was a great companion of Marius the Consull, in the time of the warre of Iugurtha and was no lesse a friend of Caius Caesar, in the time of the first ciuill warres. My penne needeth not to be occupied to write any thing of the life of Sylla: For all the Historiographers doe not onely reproue the cruelties which he vsed to his enemies, but also condemne him for the little faith he obserued his friends.
This Consull Sylla had three daughters, the one of them was named Lelia Sabina, the which of all the sisters was least fayre, but amongst all the Romanes shee was the most sagest: for shee read openly in Rome in a chayre both Greeke and Latine. After the warres of Mithridates, Lucius Sylla came to Rome, where he beheaded three thousand Romanes which came to salute him: although before by his word he had assured them all: And in deed, and also iustly Lucius Sylla had been vtterly vndone for his fact, if his daughter had not made to the Senate a wise Oration: for often times it chanceth that the wisedome of the good child doth remedy the folly of the wicked Father. The Historians say, that this Lelya Sabina had not onely a great grace in reading: but also shee had much excellency in writing: for she wrote many letters and orations with her own hand, which her Father Lucius Sylla afterwards learned by hart: and as he was indeed quicke of spirite, so he vsed to recite them to the Senate alwayes for his purpose.
[Page 280] And let no man maruaile hereat for there are some of so grosse vnderstanding The difference betweene one man and another. that that which they write and studie, they can scarcely vtter: & others againe are of such liuely wits, that of that onely which they haue heard, it seemeth maruellous to heare with what eloquence they will talke. Because Sylla had such and so excellent a daughter in his house, hee was esteemed for a sage and wise councellour throughout all the Common wealth.
He was counted very absolute in executing, strong in maintaining, & for right eloquent in speaking. Finally, of this came this ancient prouerbe which sayth Lucius Sylla gouerneth his own countrey with the eloquence of his tongue: and is Lord of strange nations by the force of his sword.
What the great Plato hath beene, and what great authority he hath had amongst his countrey men, and amongst the strangers it is apparant: for so much as the Greekes do acknowledge him of all other Phylosophers to be the Prince: and likewise the Latines by one consent call him diuine.
And me thinketh that in doing this, they doe no Phylosopher iniurie: for as Plato in his life time had great modestie, so truely in his writing hee exceeded mans capacitie. An Historian called Hyzearchus declareth that Lasterna and Axiothea were two Greekes very well Iearned, and amongst the Schollers of Plato chiefly renowmed. The one was of so perfect a memory, and the other of so high an vnderstanding, that Plato oft times beeing in the chayre, and these two not readie, hee would not beginne to reade. And being demaunded wherefore hee reade not his Lecture? hee answered: I will not reade, for that there wanteth here vnderstanding to conceyue, and also memory to retaine.
Meaning that Lasterna was absent, that Axiothe was not yet come. The wisedome of these two women ought to bee much, since Plato without them would not vtter one word, vnlesse they were present in his Schoole. For Plato esteemed more the vnderstanding and memory of those two women alone: then hee did the phylosophy of his other Schollers together. Aristippus the phylosopher was Scholler to Socrates, and of the most renowmed of Athens. Hee had a daughter called Aretha, the which was so well learned in Greeke and Latine letters, that the common renowme sayd, the soule of Socrates was The commendation of Aretha. entred into Aretha: and the cause that mooued them to say this was, because shee read and declared the doctrine of Socrates in such wise, that it seemed to most men shee had rather write by hand, then learne by studie. Bocchas in the second booke of the prayse of women, sayeth, that this Aretha was so excellent a woman, that shee did not only learne for her selfe, but also to teach others: and did not onely teach in diuers Schooles, but also shee wrote many and sundrie bookes, one especially in the prayse of Socrates, an other of the manner of bringing vp children, an other of the Warres of Athens, an other of the tyrannicall force, an other of the Common Wealth of Socrates, an other of the infelicity of Women, an other of the tillage of the Auncients, an other of the Wonders of the Mount Olimpus, an other of the vaine care of the Sepulchre, an other of the care of the Antes, an other of the Workemanshippe of the Bees in honey: and shee wrote two others, the one of the vanities of youth, and the other of the miseries of age.
[Page 291] This woman did reade openly naturall and morall Phylosophy in the Schooles of Athens, for the space of fiue and twenty yeares: she made fortie bookes, she had a hundred and ten Phylosophers to her Schollers, shee dyed being at the age of seuentie and seuen yeares, and the Athenians after her death, engraued on her graue these words.
As Marcus Varro sayth, the sects of the Philosophers were more then seuenty, but in the end they were reduced into seuen, and in the end they were brought into three sects chiefly. That is to say, Stoickes, Peripatetickes, and Pythagoriques. Of these Pythagoriques, Pythagoras was the Prince, Hizearcus, Annius Rusticus, and Laertius, with Eusebius and Boccas, all affirme one thing, whereunto I did not greatly giue credite, which is: that this Phylosopher Pithagoras had a sister, not onely learned, but (if it bee lawfull to speake it) excellently learned. And they say, that not she of Pythagoras, but Pythagoras of her learned phylosophy. And of a truth it is a matter whereof I was so greatly abashed, that I cannot tell who could bee maister of such a woman: since shee had Pythagoras the great phylosopher to her Scholler. The name of the woman was Thecclea to whom Pythagoras her brother wrot and sent her a letter, when hee read phylosophy at Rhodes, and she at Samothracia doing the like. The Epistle was thus,
CHAP. XXIX. Of a Letter which Pythagoras sent to his sister Theoclea, hee beeing in Rhodes, and shee in Sam othracia reading both Philosophie.
PYthagoras thy brother, and Disciple to thee Theoclea his sister, health & encrease of wisedome wisheth. I haue read the book which thou diddest send mee, of fortune and misfortune, from the beginning to the end: and now I know, that thou art no lesse graue in making, then gracious in teaching. The which doth not chance very oft vnto vs, which are men, and much lesse (as wee haue seene) to you women. For the Philosopher Aristippus was rude in speaking, but profound in writing: and Amenides was briefe in writing, and eloquent in speaking. Thou hast studyed and written in such sort, that in learning, that thou shewest, thou seemest to haue read all the Philosophers: and in the antiquities that thou doest declare, it seemeth that thou hast seene all the time past: Wherin thou being a woman shewest thy selfe more then a woman, because the nature of women is to cast The proty of women. their eyes onely in that that is present, and to forget that is past. They tell me that thou doest occupy thy selfe now in writing of our Country. And truely in this case I cannot say, but that you haue matter enough to write on: For the warres and trauels of our times haue beene such, and so great, that I had rather reade them in bookes, then to see them with my eyes.
And if it bee so, as I suppose it is, I beseech thee heartily, and by the immortall Gods I coniure thee, that in writing the affayres of thy Countrey thou doest vse thy penne discreetely. I meane, that thou doe not in this case blemish thy writing, by putting therein any flattery or lesing. For oft times Historiographers, in blasing more then truth, the giftes of their Countrey, cause worthily to be suspected their writing.
Thou knowest very well, how that in the battell past, the Rhodians were ouercome, and that ours remained victorious. Mee thinketh thou shouldst not in this case greatly magnifie, extoll, or exalt ours, because in the end they fought to reuenge their iuiury, neyther thou oughtest to blame the Rhodians, for they did not fight but in the ayde of Rome, I speake this (my sister) because for to defend their owne, women shew themselues Lyons: and for to defend the things of another man, men shew themselus chickens: For in the end hee onely may bee counted strong, the which defendeth not his owne house, but which dyeth defending his, and another mans. I will not deny the naturall loue of my Country, nor I will not deny but that I loue them that write, and speake well thereof: but mee thinketh it is not reason, that they should disprayse the goodnesse and truth of other Countries: nor that they should so highly commend the euill and vilenesse of their owne: For there is not in the world this day so barren a realme, but may bee commended for something therein, nor there is so perfect a nation, but in somthings may be reproued. Thou canst not deny me, but that amōgst thy brethren I am the eldest, and thou canst not deny but that amongst all thy Disciples I am the youngest, and since that for being thy Disciple, I ought [Page 293] to obey thee, thou likewise for that I am thy eldest brother oughtest to beleeue me. By the faith of a people, I doe counsell thee my sister, that thou do trauell much to be profound Man without truth is not worthie to be regarded. in thy words, vpright in thy life, and honest of thy person: and besides all this, true in thy writing: For I let thee vnderstand, that if the body of the man without the soule is little regarded: I sweare vnto thee that the mouth of a man without truth, is much lesse esteemed.
CHAP. XXX. The Authour followeth his purpose, perswading Princesses and other Ladies to endeauour themselues to be wise, as the women were in olde time.
THis therefore was the letter, which Pythagoras sent to his sister Theoclea, whereby is shewed the great humility of him, and the hie eloquence of her, Hierchus the Greeke and Plutarch also in the booke of the gouernement of Princes say, that Pythagaras The humilitie of Pythagoras. had not onely a sister, which was called Theoclea, of whom he learned so much Philosophy, but also he had a daughter, the wisedome and knowledge of whom surmounted her Aunt, and was equall to her Father.
I thinke it no lesse incredible which is spoken of the daughter, then that which is spoken of the Aunt, which is, that those of Athens did reioyce more to heare her speake in her house, then for to heare Pythagoras reade in the Schoole.
And it ought to bee beleeued: for the saying of the graue Authours on the one part: and by that wee daily see on the other part: For in the end it is more pleasure to heare a man tell mery tales, hauing grace and comelynes in his words, then to heare a graue man speake the truth, with a rude and rough tongue.
I haue found in many writings, what they haue spoken of Pythagoras, and his Daughter: but none telleth her name, saue only in an Epistle that Phalaris the Tyrant wrote, I found this worde written, where hee saith: Polychrata, that was the Daughter of the Phylosopher Pythagoras, was young and exceeding wise, more faire then rich, and was so much honoured for the puritie of her life, and so highly esteemed for her pleasaunt Tongue: that the word which shee spake spinning at her Distaffe, was more esteemed then the Phylosophie that her Father read in the schoole. And he saide more. It is so great a pittie to see and heare, that women at this present are so dishonest, and in their tongues so malicious, that I haue greater pleasure in the good renowme of one that is dead, then in the infamie of all them which are aliue: For a good woman is more worth with her distaffe spinning, then a hundred euill Queenes, with their royall Scepters reigning. By the words which Phalaris said in his letter it seemed that this Daughter of Pythagoras was called Polichrate.
Pythagoras therefore made manie Commentaryes, as well of his owne countrey, as of strangers. In the end he dyed in Mesopotamia, where at the houre of his death, hee spake vnto his Daughter Polichrate: and saide these wordes. I see my Daughter, that the houre wherein I must ende my life approcheth. The Gods gaue it mee, and now they will take it from mee: Nature gaue me byrth, and now shee giueth me death: the Earth gaue me the bodie, and now it returneth to ashes. The woefull Fatall destenyes [Page 294] gaue mee a little goods, mingled with many trauells: So that (Daughter) of al things which I enioyed here in this world, I carrie none with mee: For, hauing all as I had it, by the way of borrowing: now at my death, eache man taketh his owne.
I die ioyfully: not for that I leaue thee rich, but for that I leaue thee learned. And in token of my tender heart, I bequeathe vnto thee all my Bookes, wherein thou shalt finde the treasure of all my trauells. And I tell thee that that I giue thee, is the riches gotten with mine owne sweate: and not obtained to the preiudice of another. For the loue I beare vnto thee (Daughter) I pray thee: and by the immortall Gods I conjure thee, that thou bee such, and so good, that although I die, yet at the least thou mayst keepe my memorie: For thou knowest well what Homer sayth, speaking of Achilles, and Pyrrhus: That the good life of the Childe that is aliue, keepeth the renowne of the Father which is dead. These were the wordes which the Phylosopher spake to his daughter, lying in his death bed. And thogh perhaps hee spake not these wordes, yet at the least this was the effect and meaning.
As the great Poet Mantuan sayth: King Euander was father of the grant Pallas, and he was a great friend of king Eneas: he vaunted himselfe to discend of the Linage of the Troyans: and therefore when king Eneas, and prince Turnus, had great Warres betweene them, which of them should haue the Princesse Lauinia in Marriage, (the which at that time was onely heyre of Italie) king Euander ayded Eneas, not only with goods, but also sending him his owne Sonne in person: For the friendes ought for their true friendes willingly to shead their bloud, and in their behalfe, without demaunding, they ought also to spend their goods
This King Euander had a Wife so well learned, that that which the Greekes sayde of her, seemeth to bee fables: That is to say, of her eloquence and wisedome, for they say, that if The wife of King Euander a Prophetesse. that which this woman wrote of the warres of Troy, had not been through enuie cast into the fire: the name of Homer had at this day remayned obscure.
The reason hereof is, because that woman was in the time of the destruction of Troy, and wrote as a witnesse of sight.
But Homer wrote after the destruction of Troy, as one affectioned vnto the Prince Achilles, as a friend of the Greekes, and enemie of the Troians.
And truely when a Writer is affectioned to any person, his writing of force must be suspected. The wife of this King Euander was called by her name Nicostrata, albeit others called her Carmenta, for the eloquence shee had in her verses. For they say, that she made as easily in meeter as others doe in prose.
The Historiographers of the Gentiles say, that shee prophefied the destruction of Troy fifteen years before. She tolde the comming of Aeneas into Italy, and spake of the warres that should be before the marriage of Lauinia, and said how Ascanius the sonne of Enea should builde Alba longa. She sayde further, that of the Latine Kings should descende the Romaines, and that the reuenge which Rome should take of Greece should bee greater, then that which Greece did take of Troy. And shee sayde also that the greatest Warre which Rome should haue, should be against the Princes of Affricke, and that in the end Rome should triumph ouer all the Realmes of the earth, and finally a nation vnknowne, should triumph for euer in Rome. As Eusesebius [Page 285] Caesarten saith: The Routaines kept these writings in as great estimation in the high capitoll, as the Christians kept their faith vnto GOD.
King Darius after he was vanquished in the first Battell, by King Alexander the great (before he was in the second battel vtterly destroyed) trauelled and sought many wayes and means to the ende he might be friend vnto Alexander: And in very deede King Darius was sage to seeke it, but not so happie to obtain it. For to Princes the peace is more worth that is honest, then is the victorie which is bloudie.
Betwixt these two so stoute Princes Truce was made for three moneths, and in the meane time, the Priests of the Chaldeans treated peace, with these conditions: that the great Alexander should marry the daughter of king Darius and that Darius should giue her a great quantity of gold: and besides this, that he should endow her with the third part of his realme. And truely these meanes were good: For, among Princes, there is nothing that sooner pacifieth olde iniuries, then to make betweene them newe Mariages.
King Alexander excused himselfe of this marriage, saying that hee was but xxiiij, yeares of age, and that hee was too young to bee marryed: because amongst the Macedonians there was a custom, that the woman could not be marryed vntill xxv. yeares of age, nor A custome among the Macedonians. the man vntill xxx. The Daughter of King Darius was faire, rich, and noble: but the best she wanted, for she was not wise And this was the cause why K: Alexander refused her for his wife: for in those dayes women were not marryed because they were rich, but beloued, because they were wise: And finally, the woman that had studyed best, came commonly to the highest Marriage.
Antonius Rusticus, and Quintus Seuerus say, that the great Alexander (after he had forsaken the daughter of king Darius,) marryed a wife which was a poore woman, and deformed, called Barsina, which indeede was neyther with riches nor beautie endued: but without doubt in the Greeke and Latine tongue most excellently learned, And when the Princes of Macedonie would haue withdrawn him from that marriage: asking him why hee esteemed the rich lesse then the poore? he aunswered thus.
I see my Friends, in Marriage it suffiseth K. Alexanders answer concerning his mariage the husband to bee rich, and the woman wise: For the Office of the husband is to winne that which is lost, and the Office of the wife is to keepe safe that which is wonne.
Strabo de situ Orbis, saith: that the fifte Queene of Lides was Mirthas, the which of her bodie was so little, that shee seemed to bee a Dwarffe: and in quicknes of wit so high, that they called her a giant. For the man that hath a stout stomack, and a little body, may well be called a giaunt: and hee that hath a great body, and a cowards hart may iustly be named a Dwarffe. For that this excellent Queen Mirtha was such a wise wife when she was marryed, and afterwards also a widowe very honest, and aboue all things in Phylosophie excellently learned,
The Lides counted this Queen Mirtha amongst the seuen Kings, of the which they vaunted themselues to be gouerned, as of glorious Princes. For the Auncients gaue as much glorie to Women learned in Letters, as vnto the valiant and stoute men expert in Armes.
Cornificius the Poete, as Laertius saieth, had a sister called Cornificia, the which in Greeke & Latin letters was not onely learned, but also in making Metre and Epigrames very expert.
They write that of this Woman, which of few men the like hath been heard: That is to say, that she made verses [Page 286] and Epigrams better at the first sight then her brother did with much study. And it is not too much incredible to put any doubt in that that is spoken: for the penne hath more The prayse of Cornificia. swiftnesse of the liuely spirit, then the tongue hath of the small vnderstanding.
This Poet Cornificius was resident a long time in Rome, and was alwayes poore, and voide of all fauour, thogh indeede hee was better learned then others, which were in greater estimation: the which thing dayly chaunceth in the Court of Princes: For there is no difference, whether they bee fooles or wise: but whether they be acceptable to the Princes.
Aristotle sayeth, Vbi multum de intellectu, ibi parum de fortuna. Meaning thereby, that men which of memory and vnderstanding are most rich, of the goods of this world are commonly most poore.
This Poet Cornificius therefore going through Rome little set by of any, by chaunce a Romane named Calphurnius to scoffe at him sayd. Tell The speech betweene Calphurnius and Cornificius. me Cornificius, hast thou had any fortunate day since thou wert borne? for in these twenty yeers that I haue known thee, I neuer saw thee in fauour, and if I bee not deceyued, it is fifteene yeeres since I knew thee haue this coate. The poore Poet answered him; I let thee know my friend, that I cannot tell which is greater thy euill lucke, or my greate felicitie. The Romane Calphurnius replyed, Tell me Cornificius, How canst thou call thy selfe happy, since thou hast not a loafe of bread to eate, nor a gowne to put on thy backe, and why sayest thou that I am vnhappy, since thou and thy family may be fed with that alone, which at my table remayneth? To this the poet answered, I will that thou know my friend and neighbour, that my felicitie is not for that I haue little, but for that I desire lesse then I haue.
And thy euill lucke is not for that thou bast much, but for that thou desirest more, and doest little esteem that that thou hast. And if thou be rich, it is for that thou neuer spakest truth: and if I he poore, it is because I neuer tolde lye. For the house that is stuffed with riches, is commonly voyd of the truth.
And I tell thee further, that I call my selfe happie, because I haue a sister, which is the best esteemed in all Italie, and thou hast a Wife the most dishonest in all Rome. And sith it is so betweene thee and mee, I referre it to no mans iudgement but to thine: which is better, eyther to be poore as I am with honour, or else to bee rich as thou art, and liue with infamte? These wordes passed betweene the Romane Calphurnius, and the Poet Cornificius.
I desire to declare the excellencie of those few auncient women (as well Greekes, as Latines, and Romanes) to the intent that Princesses and great Ladyes may knowe that the auncient women were more esteemed for their sciences then for their beauties.
Therefore the Princesses and great Ladies ought to thinke that if they be womē, the other were also in like mā ner: and if they bee fraile, the others were also weake. If they be marryed, the others also had Husbands: if they haue theyr willes, the others had also what they wanted: If they be tender, the others were not strong.
Finally, they ought not to excuse themselues, saying: that women are vnmeete for to learne. For a woman hath more abilitie to learne Sciences in the scholes, then the Parate hath to speake words in the cage.
In my opinion, Princesses and great Ladyes ought not to esteeme themselues more then another, for that they haue fairer hayres then others, or for that they are better Apparrelled then another: or that they haue more riches then another.
[Page 287] But they ought therfore to esteeme themselues, not for that they can doe more then others. To say the trueth, the faire and yeallow hayres, the rich and braue Apparel, the great treasurs, the sumptuous Pallaces, and strong Buildings: these and other like pleasures are not guydes and leaders vnto vertues, but rather Spyes and Scowtewatches to vices.
Oh what an excellent thing were it that the noble Ladyes would esteeme themselues, not for that they can doe: How great Ladies ought to to esteeme of thēselues. but for that they knowe.
For it is more commendations to know how to teach two Philosophers then to haue authority to commaund a hundred knightes.
It is a shame to write it, but it is more pittie to see it, that is to say, to reade that wee read of the wisedome and worthinesse of the auncient Matrons past: and to see as we do see, the frailenes of these yong ladies present.
For they coueted to haue Disciples both learned and experimented: and those of this present, desire nothing but to haue seruants, not only ignorant, but deceitfull, and wicked And I doe not maruell, seeing that which I see, that at this present in Court she is of little value, & least esteemed amōg Ladies, which hath fairest Seruants, & is least entertained of Gentlemen.
What shall I say more in this matter? but that they in times past striued who shold write better, and compile the best books: and these at this present doe not striue, but who shall haue the richest, and most sumptuous Apparrell. For the Ladyes thinke it a jolyer matter, to weare a Gowne of a new fashion, then the ancients did to read a lesson of Phylosophie.
The ancient Ladyes striued which of them was wisest: but these of our dayes contend who shalbe fairest. For at this day the Ladyes would choose rather to haue the face adorned with beautie, then the heart endued with wisedome.
The Auncient Ladyes contended which should bee best able to teach others: but these Ladyes now a dayes contend how they may most finely apparrell themselues. For in these dayes they giue more honour to a Woman richly Apparrelled, then they giue to another with honesty beautified.
Finally, with this word I doe conclude; and let him marke that shall What difference there is betweene the women of our time & the ancients. reade it, that in the olde time women were such, that their vertues caused all men to keepe silence: and now their vices bee such, that they compell all men to speake.
I will not by this worde any man should be so bold in general to speake euill of all the Ladyes: for in this case I sweare, that there are not at this day so many good vertuous women in the world: but that I haue more enuie at the life they lead in secrete, then at all the sciences which the auncient women read in publike.
Wherefore my pen doth not shew it selfe extreame, but to those which onely in sumptuous Apparrell, and vaine words doe consume their whole life: and to those which in reading a good Booke, would not spend one onely houre. To proue my intention of that I haue spoken, the aboue written sufficeth: But to the ende Princesses and great Ladyes may see (at the least) how much beter it shalbe for them to know little, then to haue and possesse much, and to be able to do more: I wil remēber them of that which a Romain woman wrote to her children, wherby they shal perceiue how eloquent a woman she was in her sayings, and how true a mother in her coūsel. For in the end of her letter she perswadeth her children to the trauels of the warre: not for any other cause, but to auoyde the pleasures of Rome.
CHAP. XXXI. Of the worthinesse of the Lady Cornelia, and of a notable Epistle shee wrote to her two sonnes which serued in the warres, Tiberius and Caius, disswading them from the pleasures of Rome, and exhorting them to endure the trauels of warre.
ANNius Rusticus in the booke of the Antiquities of the Romanes sayeth, that in Rome there were fiue principall Iynages, that is to say, Fabritii, Torquatii, Brutii, Fabit, and Cornelii, though there were in Rome other new lynages, whereof Fiue Families in Rome chiefly were esteemed. there were many excellent personages: yet alwayes these which came of the fiue lynages, were kept, placed and preferred to the first Offices of the common wealth.
For Rome honoured those that were present in such sort, that it was without the preiudice of those that are gone. Amongst those v. linages the Romaines alwayes counted the Cornelii most fortunate, that which were so hardy, and couragious in fight, and so modest in life, that of their family there was neuer found any cowardly man in the field, nor any defamed woman in the twone: They say of this linage of the Cornenelii, among many other there were 4. singular and notable women, among the which the chiefe was the mother of Graccht whose name was Cornelia, and liued with more honor for the sciences shee read in Rome, then for the conquests that her children had in Affrike. Before her children were brought into the Empire, they talked of none other thing but of their strength and hardinesse, throughout the world: and therefore a Romain one day asked this woman Cornelia, wherof she tooke most vain glory, to see her selfe mistresse of so many Disciples, or mother of so valiant children. The Lady Cornelia answered. I doe esteeme the science more which I haue learned, then the children which I haue brought forth. For in the end, the children keepe in honour the life: but the Disciples continue the renowme after death.
And she sayd further, I am assured that the Disciples daily wil waxe better and better: and it may be that my children will waxe worse and worse. The desires of young men are so variable, that they dayly haue new inuentions. With one accord all the writers doe greatly commend this woman Cornelia, in especiall for being wise and honest, and furthermore because she read Phylosophy in Rome openly.
And therefore after her death they set vp in Rome a statue, ouer the gate Salaria, whereupon there was grauen this Epigram.
AMong the Latines Cicero was the Prince of al the Romane Rethorike, and the chiefest with his pen enditing Epistles: yet they say, that he did not onely see the writings of this Cornelia, but read them, and did not onely reade them, but also with the sentences thereof profited himselfe. [Page 289] And hereof a man ought not to maruell: for there is no man in the world so wise of himselfe, but may further his doings with the aduise of an other.
Cicero so highly exalted these writings, that he sayde in his Rethorike these or such other like words,
If the name of a woman had not not blemished Cornelia, truly she deserued to be head of al Philosophers: For I neuer saw so graue sentences proceede from so fraile flesh Since Cicero spake these words of Cornelia, it cannot be, but that the writings of such a woman in her time were verie liuelesse, and of great reputation, yet notwithstanding there is no memory of her, but that an author for his purpose declareth an Epistle of this maner. Sextus Cheronensis in his booke of the prayse of women, reciteth the letter which shee sent to her children. Shee remaining in Rome, and they being at the wars in Affricke.
The Letter of Cornelia to her two sons Tiberius and Caius, otherwise called Gracchi.
Cornelia the Romane, that by the fathers side am of the Cornelii, & on the mother side of the Fabii: to you my two sonnes, Gracchii, which A letter of a Romane Lady to her two sons. are in the warres of Affricke, such health to you I doe wish as a mother to her children ought to desire. You haue vnderstoode right well my children how my father dyed, I being but three yeares of age, and that this 22. yeares I haue remained widdow, and that this 20. yeares I haue read Rethorike in Rome. It is 7. yeeres since I saw you, and 12. yeares since your brethren, my children dyed in the great plague. You know 8. yeeres are past since I left my study, and came to see you in Cicilia, because you should not forsake the wars, to come to see me in Rome: for to mee could come no greater pain then to see you absent from the seruice of the Common wealth. I desire my children to shew you how I haue passed my life in labour and trauell, to the entent you should not desire to spende yours in rest and idlenes: For to me that am in Rome, there can want no troubles: be yee assured that vnto you which are in the wars shall want no perils: For in warres renowne is neuer solde but by weight, or changed with losse of life.
The young Fabius, sonne of my aunt, the aged Fabia, at the third Calends of March brought mee a letter, the which you sent: and truly it was more briefe then I would haue wished it: for betweene so deere children, and so louing a mother, it is not suffered that the absence of your persons should be so farre, and the letters which you write so briefe, By those that goe from hence thither, I alwaies doe send you commendations: and of those that come from thence hither, I doe enquire of newes.
Some say they haue seene you, others tell mee they haue spoken with you: so that with this my heart is somwhat quieted: for between them that loue greatly, it may bee endured that the fight be seldom, so that the health be certaine. I am sole, I am a widdow, I am aged, and now all my kindred are dead. I haue endured many trauels in Rome, and the greatest of all is (my children) of your absence: for the paine is greater to be voyd of assured friends, then assault is dangerous of cruell enemies. Since you are young, and not very rich, since you are hardie, and brought vp in the trauels of Affricke, I do not doubt but that you do desire to come to Rome, to see & know that now you are men [Page 290] which you haue seen when you were children: for men doe not loue their Country so much for that it is good: as they doeloue it for that it is naturall.
Beleeue me children, there is no man liuing that hath seene or heard speake of Rome in times past: but hath great griefe, sorrow and pitty to see it at this present: for as their hearts are pittifull, and their eyes tender: so they cannot behold that without great sorrow, which in times past they haue seene in great glory. O my children, you shall know that Rome is greatly changed from that it was wont to be. To reade that wee doe reade of it in times past, and to see that which wee see of it now present, wee must needs esteeme that which the Ancients haue written as a iest, or else beleeue it but as a dreame.
There is no other thing now at Rome, but to see iustice corrupted, the common-weale oppressed, lies blown abroad, the truth kept vnder, the Satyres silent, the flatterers open mouthed, the inflamed persons to bee Lords, and the patient to be seruants; and aboue all, and worse then all, to see the euill liue in rest and contented, and the good troubled and displeased. Forsake, forsake (my Children that City, where the good haue occasion to weepe, and the euill haue liberty to laugh. I cannot tell what to say in this matter, as I would say: truly the Common weale is at this day such and so woful, that each wise man (without comparison) would haue greater pleasure to bee in the wars of Affricke, then in the peace at Rome: For in the good war, a man seeth of whom he should take heed, but in the The wickednesse of Rome described, euill peace, no man knoweth whom to trust. Therefore my children, since you are naturall of Rome; I will tell you what Rome is at this present. I let you know that the Vestall virgins are now dissolute, the honour of the gods is forgotten, the profite of the Common weale no man secketh, of the exercise of chiualrie, there is no memory; for the orphanes and widdowes there is no man doth answer, to minister iustice they haue no regard, and the dissolute vices of the youth are without measure. Finally, Rome that in times past was a receite of all the good and vertuous, is now made a denne of all theeues and vitious. I feare me, I feare me, lest our mother Rome in short time will haue some sudden and great fall, for both men and Cities that fal from the top of their felicitie purchase greater infamie with those that shal come after then the glory that they haue had of them that be past.
Peraduenture, my children, you desire to see the walles and buildings of Rome: for those things which children see first in their youth, the same they loue and keepe alwayes in memory vntill their age. As the auncient buildings of Rome are destroied, and the few that are now built: So would I you should lose your earnest affection to come to see them: For indeede the noble hearts are ashamed to see that thing amisse, which they cannot remedie. Do not thinke my children, though Rome be made worse in manners, that therefore it is diminished in buildings: For I let you vnderstand, if you know it not, that if a wall doth decay, there is no man that doth repayre it.
If a house fall, there is no man that will rayse it vppe againe. If a streete bee foule, there is no man that will make it cleane. If the Riuer carry away any bridge, there is no man that will set it vp againe. If any Antiquity decay, there is no man that will amend it. If any wood be cut, there is no man that wil keepe it. If the Trees waxe olde, there [Page 291] is no man that will plant them a new: If the pauement of the streetes bee broken, there is no man that will laye it againe. Finally, there is nothing in Rome at this day so euill handled, as those things which by the common voyces are ordered.
These things (my children) though I doe greatly lament (as it is reason) yet you ought little to esteeme them all: but this all onely ought to bee esteemed, and with droppes of bloud to be lamented. That now in Rome, when the buildings in many places fall downe, the vices all wholy together are raysed vp. O wofull mother Rome, since that in thee, the more the wals decay, the more the vices encrease. Peraduenture (my children) since you are in those frontiers of Africke, you desire to see your parents here in Rome. And there at I maruell not, for the loue which our naturall Country doth giue, the strange country cannot take away. All those which come from those parties doe bring vs no other certaine newes, but of the multitude of those which die, and are slaine in Affricke, therefore since you send vs such news from thence, looke not that we should send you any other then the like from hence: for death hath such authority, that it killeth the armed in the warres: and slayeth the quiet in peace.
I let you know that Licia your sister is dead, Drusio your vnckle is dead, Torquatus your neighbour is dead, His wise our cosen, and her 3. daughters are dead: Fabius your great friend is dead: Euander and his children are dead: Bibulus which read for me in the chaire, the last yeare is also dead.
Finally, there are so many and so good with all that be dead, that it is a great shame and pitty to see (at this present) so many euil as do liue: know ye my children, that all these and many others which ye left aliue full high in Rome, are now become wormes meat full low vnder the earth, and death also doth summon me vnto the graue. If you (my children) did consider The vncertainety of mans life. what shall become of you hereafter, truely you will thinke it better to weepe a thousand yeares with the dead, then to laugh one houre with those that be aliue. Remembring that I bare yee in great paine, and haue nourished you in great trauel, & that yee came of my proper entrailes: I would haue you as children about me for the comfort and consolation of my paines: but in the end beholding the prowesses of these that are past, that bindeth their heires, I am content to suffer so long absēce your persons, onely to the end you may gette honour in chiualrie: for I had rather heare tell you should liue like knights in Affricke, then to see you vtterly lost here in Rome, My children as you are in the wars of Affricke, so I doubt not but that you desire to see the pleasurs of Rome: for there is no man in this world so happy, but at his neighbours prosperity had som enuy; enuy not the vicious, neyther desire to bee among vices: for truly vices are of such condition, that they bring not with thē so much pleasure, as they leaue sorrow behind them, for the true delight is not in pleasure which suddenly vanisheth but in the truth which euer remaineth. I thanke the gods for all these things, first for that they made me wise and not foolish: for to a woman it is a smal matter to be called so fraile, that indeed she bee not foolish The second I thank the gods, because in all times of my troubles, they haue giuen me patience to endure them: for the man onely in this life may be called vnhappie, to whom the gods in his troubles giueth not patiēce. The 3. I thanke the gods for that those 65. years which I haue liued, [Page 292] I neuer hitherto was defamed: For the Woman by no reason can complaine of her fortune, if in none of her troubles shee hath lost her honour.
The fourth, I thanke the Gods that in this fortie yeares I haue liued in Rome, and remained widow, there was neuer man nor woman that contended with mee: For since we women little profite the commonwealth, it is but reason that shee which with euill demeanors hath passed her life should by iustice receiue her death.
The fifth, I giue the Gods thankes, that they gaue me children, the which are better contented to suffer the trauells of Affrike, then to enioy the pleasures of Rome. Doe not count me (my Children) for so vnlouing a Mother, that I would not haue you alwaies before mine eyes: but considering that many good mens children haue been lost, onely for being brought vp in the excessiue pleasures of Rome, I doe content my selfe with your absence: [...] For the man that desireth perpetuall renon me, though hee bee not banished, hee ought to absent himselfe from his Natiue countrey. My deare childrē, I most earnestly desire you that alwayes you accompanie your selues with the good, with the most Auncients, and with those which are graue, and most expert in counsell, and with those that haue most seene the world: and doe not vnderstand most of the world, by those that haue seene most countreys For the ripe councell proceedeth not from the man that hath trauelled in many Countreys, but from him that hath selt himselfe in many daungers.
Since the nature of the Countrey (my Children) doth knocke with the hāmer at the heart of man, I feare that if you come and see your friends and parents, you shall alwayes line in care & pensiuenes, and being pensiue, you shall alwayes liue euill contented, and you shall not do that which becometh Romane knights to do. And you not being valiaunt knights, your enemyes shall alwayes reioyce ouer you, and your desires shal neuer take effect: for of those men which are carefull and heauy, proceedeth alwaies seruices vnworthie. I desire you heartily, and by this present letter I counsell you, that you will not in any wise seeke to come to Rome: For as I haue saide you shall know few of those that did know you: for eyther they are dead or banished, poor, or sick, aged, or come to nought sad, or euill contented: So that sithence you are not able to remedie their griefes, it is best you should not come hither to see their troubles. For no man cōmeth to Rome but to weepe with the liuing, or to sigh for thē that be dead. Truly (my children I know not what pleasure is in Rome, that shold cause any good man to come hither, and to forsake Affrike? for if there you haue any enemies, here you shal want friends. If you haue the Sword that pierceth the body, we haue the tōgue here that destroyeth the renowme. If you be vexed with the Thieues of Affrike, wee are wounded with the traytours, flatterers, and lyars of Italie. If you lacke rest, we haue here too much The commendations of warlike men. trouble.
Finally, seeing that I doe see in Rome, and hearing that which I doe heare of Affrike, I cōmend your warre and abhorre your peace: If you doe greatly esteem that which I haue said, esteem much more that which I shall say, which is, that wee alwayes heare that you are conquerors of the Affricanes, and you shall heare alwayes that we are conquered by vices. Therefore if am a true mother, I had rather see you win a perpetuall memory among strangers, then to liue with infamie at home in your countrey.
Peraduenture with hope that you shallenioy some goods, you will offer to take occasion to come to Rome: [Page 295] When this thing shall come to your minds, remember (my Children) that your father being aliue had not much and that vnto your Mother, beeing a widow many things wanted. And remember that your father bequeathed you nothing but weapons, and knowe that from mee you shalll enherite nothing but Bookes. For I had rather leaue my Children good doctrine, whereby they may liue, then euill Riches whereby they may perish.
I am not rich, nor I neuer trauelled to bee rich: and the cause was, that I saw many mens children vndone, only through the hope they had to inherit their parents goods, and afterward went a hunting after vices. For they seldome times do any worthy feates, which in theyr Youth inherite great Treasures.
This thing therefore beeing true (as it is indeede) I doe not say onely that I would watch, and toyle as many do to get riches and treasures: but also if I had treasor, before I would giue them vnto you, I would (as the Phylosopher did) cast them into the fire. For I had rather haue my children poore and vertuous in Affricke, then rich and vicious in Rome.
You knowe very well my Children, that there was among the Tharentines a Law well obserued, that the Sonnes should not inherit any thing of the fathers but weapons to fight: and that A Law among the Tharentines. the Daughters should inherite the goods, for to marry thēselues withall.
Truely this Law was very iust: for the Sonne that hath alwaies respect to the inheritance: will not haue to his Father any great confidence. For hee ought to bee called a valiant Romain Knight, that with his life hath wonne and by his sword hath gotten Riches. Since you are in straunge Realmes, I pray you heartily that you be eonuersant with the good (as good brethren) remembring alwayes, that you were my children, and that I gaue you both sucke of mine owne proper breasts. And the day that I shall heare of your disagreement, the same day shall be the end of my life. For the discord in one city of parents doth more harme then a whole armie of enemies.
It is good for you (my Children,) to liue in loue and concord together: but it is more requisite to keepe you with the Romain knights. The which with you, and you with them, if you doe not loue together in the warres, you shall neuer haue the vpper hand of your enemies. For in great Armies, the discords that arise amongst them, do more harme, then the enemies do against whom they fight.
I thinke well (my children) that you would be very desirous to know of my estate (that is to say,) whether I am in health, whether I am sicke, whether I am poore, whether I am pleased, or whether I am discontented?
In this case I knowe not why you should desire to knowe it? since you ought to presuppose, that according to the troubles which I haue passed, & the miseries, which with mine eyes I haue seen, I am filled with this world: For wise men after fifty yeares and vpwardes, ought rather to applie theyr mindes how to receyue death: then How euery man & women ought to spend their time. to seeke for pleasures how to prolong life.
When mans Flesh is weake, it alwayes desireth to bee well kept, euen vnto the graue. And as I am of flesh and Bone, so I do feele the troubles of the world, as all mortall men doe. But for all this doe not thinke that to bee poore or sicke is the greatest miserie: neither thinke that to bee whole and rich is the chiefest felicity: for there is none other felicitie of the old fathers, but for to see their children vertuous.
In my opinion it is an honor to the coūtry, that the fathers haue such children, which will take profit with their [Page 294] counsell, and contrariwise that the children haue such fathers which can giue it them: For the childe is happy that hath a wise father, and more happie is the father that hath not a foolish son. I doe write oft times vnto you my children, but there is a law that none be so hardy to write to men of war in the field, except first they inrowle the letters in the Senate. Therefore since I write vnto you more letters then they would, they do send lesse then I desire. Though this law be painefull to mothers which haue children: yet we must confesse it is profitable for the weale publike. For if a man wold write to one in the warre that his family is not well; he would forsake the warres to remedy it. If a man write vnto him that it is prosperous, hee hath then a desire to enioy it.
Be not displeased (my children) though all the Letters I doe send vnto you come not to your hands: for all that I doe not cease to visite the temples for your owne health, nor yet to offer sacrifices for your honor, If we doe please the Gods we haue not cause to feare our enemies. I say no more in this case, my children, but but that I beseech the immortall gods, that if your liues may profit the Common wealth, then they shorten my dayes, and lengthen your yeares: but if your liues should be to the damage of the Common wealth, then those immortall gods I desire, that first I may vnderstand the end of your dayes before that the Wormes should eate my flesh. For rather then by your euill life the glory of our predecessors should bee blemished, it were much better both your liues were ended.
The grace of the Gods, the good renowne amongst men, the good fortune of the Romanes, the wisedome of the Greekes, the blessing of Scipio, and of all other your predecessors be alwayes with you my children.
CHAP. XXXII. Of the education and doctrine of children whiles they are young. wherein the Author declareth many notable histories.
AL mortall mē which What a good traueller in this worlde ought to seeke for. will trauel, and see good fruits of their trauell, ought to doe as the chiefe Artificer did the painted world: For the man that maketh God the head of his workes, it is vnpossible that he should erre in the same: That which we beleeue, and reade by writing, is that the eternal created the world in short space by his might: but preserued it a long time by his wisedome. Whereof a man may gather, that the time to doe a thing is short: but the care and thought to preserue it, is long.
Wee see dayly, that a valiant captaine assaulteth his enemies: but in the end it is God that giueth the victory; but let vs aske the Conquerour, what trauell it hath beene vnto him, or wherein hee hath perceiued most danger (that is to say) either to obtain the victory of his enemies, or else to preserue themselues amongst the enuious and malitious. I sweare and affirme, that such a knight will sweare that there is no comparison between the one and the other: for by the bloudy sword in an houre the victory is obtained: but to keep it with reputation, the swet of al the life is required. Laertius in the book of the life of Phylosophers declareth, and Plato also hereof maketh mention, in the bookes of his common wealth, that [Page 295] those of Thebes vnderstanding that the Lacedemonians had good lawes, (for the which they were of the Gods fauoured, and of men greatly honoured) determined to send (by common assent and agreement) a wise Philosopher, the best esteemed amongst them, whose name was Phetonius, to whom they commaunded, that hee should aske the lawes of the Lacedemonians, and that he should be very circumspect, and warie to see, what their rules and customes were. Those of Thebes were thē very noble, valiant and honest: so that their principall end was, to come to honour & renowne, to erect buildings, and to make themselues of immortall memory for being vertuous: For in building they were very curious: and for vertues they had good Phylosophers.
The Philosopher Phetonius was more then a yeare in the realme of the Lacedemonians, beholding at sundry times all thinges therein: for simple men doe not note things, but onely to satisfie the eyes: but the wise mē beholdeth them, for to know and vnderstand their secrets. After the Philosopher had well and plainely seene and beheld all the things of the Lacedemouians, he determined to returne home to Thebes, and beeing arriued, all the people came to see him and heare him: For the vanity of the common people is of such a qualitie, that it followeth new inuentions, and despiseth auncient Customes. The vanity and foolish opinion of the commō people.
All the people therefore gathered together, the good Philosopher Phetonius set vp in the middest of the market place a gibbet, hote yrons, a sword, a whippe, and fetters for the feet; the which thing done, the Thebians were no lesse, as they thought, slaundered then abashed.
To the which hee spake these wordes. You Thebaines sent mee to the Lacedemonians, to the entent that I The Philosopher Phetonius his answere to the Thebaines. should learne their Lawes and Customs. and indeed I haue been there more then a year, behelding all things very diligently: For wee Philosophers are bounde, not onely to note that which is done, but also to know why it is done, Know yee Thebians that this is the aunswere of my Ambassage.
That the Lacedemoniant hang vpon this Gibet theeues, with this same sword they beheade Traytors, with these hote Irons they torment blasphemers and lyers, with these roddes they whp vacabonds, and with these Irons doe keepe the rebels, and the others are for Players and vnthrifts.
Finally, I say, that I do not bring you the Lawes written, but I bring you the instruments wherewith they are obserued.
The Thebanes were abashed to see these things, and spake vnto him such words:
Consider Phetonius, we haue not sent thee to the Lacedemonians, to bring Instruments to take away life: but for the good Lawes to gouerne the Common wealth.
The Philosopher Phetonius reply ed againe, and answered:
Thebains, I let you to vnderstand, that if you know what wee Philosophers knew, yon should see how farre your mindes were from the truth: For the Lacedemonians are not so vertuous, thorough the lawes which were made of them that bee dead, as for the means they haue sought to preserue them that bee aliue: For the matters of iustice consists more in execution, then in commanding or ordayning.
Laws are easily ordayned, but with difficulty executed: for there are a thousand to make them, but to put them in execution there is not one. Full little is that which men know that are present in respect of that those know which are [Page 296] past. But yet according to my little knowledge, I proffer to giue as good lawes to you Thebaines, as euer were obserued among the Lacedemonians: For there is nothing more easie, then to know the good, and nothing more common then to follow the euill: But what profiteth it, if one will ordaine, and none vnderstand it: If there bee that dooth vnderstand them, there is none that executeth them. If there bee that executeth them, there is none that obserueth them: If there bee one that obserueth them, there is a thousand that reprooueth them: For without comparison, more are they that murmur and grudge at the good, then those which despise and blame the euill. You Thebaines are offended, because I haue brought such Instruments, but I let you know, if you will haue neyther gybet nor Sworde to keepe that which shall bee ordained, you shall haue your Bookes full of lawes, and the common wealth full of vices. Wherefore I sweare vnto you, that there are more Thebaines which follow the delitiousnesse of Denis the tyrant, then there are vertuous men that follow the lawes of Lycurgus.
If you Thebaines doe desire greatly to know, with what lawes the Lacedemonians doe preserue their Commonwealth: I will tell you them all by word, and if you will reade them, I will shew you them in writing: but it shall bee vpon condition, that you shall sweare al openly, that once a day you shall employ your eyes to reade them, and your persons to obserue them: for the Prince hath greater honour to see one onely law to be obserued in deed, then to ordaine a thousand by writing.
You ought not to esteeme much to be vertuous in heart, nor to enquire of the vertue by the mouth, nor to seeke it by labour and trauell of the feet: but that which you ought greatly to esteeme, is to know what a vertuous law meaneth, and that knowne, immediately to execute it, and afterwards to keepe it.
For the chiefe vertue is not to doe one vertuous worke, but in a swet and trauell to continue in it.
These therfore were the words that this Philosopher Phetonius sayde to the Thebaines: the which as Plato sayeth, esteemed more his words that hee spake, then they did the Lawes which he brought. The Philosophers counsell acceptable to the Thebanes.
Truly in mine opinion, those of Thebes are to bee praysed and commended: and the Philosopher for his word is worthy to be honoured. For the ende of those was to search lawes to liue well, and the end of the Philosopher was to seeke good meanes for to keepe them in vertue. And therefore he thoght it good to shew them and put before their eyes the gibbet, and the sword, with the other Instruments and torments: for the euill do refraine from vice, more for feare of punishment, then for any desire they haue of amendment.
I was willing to bring in this history, to the end that all curious and vertuous men may see and know how little the Ancients did esteeme the beginning, the meane, and the end of vertuous works, in respect of the perseuerance and preseruation of them.
Comming therefore to my matter, which my penne doth tosse and seeke: I aske now presently, what it profiteth Princesses and great Ladies that God doe giue them great estates, that they be fortunate in marriages, that they bee all reuerenced and honoured, that they haue great treasures for their inheritances, and aboue all, that they see their wines great with Childe, and that afterward, in ioy they see them deliuered: that they see their mothers giuing their children sucke: and finally, they see themselues happy in that they haue found them good nurses, health full and honest.
[Page 297] Truly all this auayleth little, if to their children when they are young they doe do not giue masters to instruct them in vertues: and they also if they doe not recommend them to good guides, to exercise them in feates of Chiualry.
The Fathers which by sighes penetrate the heauen, by praiers importune the liuing God onelie for to haue children, ought first to thinke why they will haue children: for that iustly to a man may be denied, which to an euill end is procured. In mine opinion, the Father ought to desire to haue a child, for that in his age he may sustaine his life in honour, and that after his death hee may cause his fame to liue. And if a Father desireth not a sonne for this cause, at the least he ought to desire him, to the end in his age hee may honour his hoary head: and that after his death hee may enherite his goods: but we see few children do these thinges to their fathers in their age, if the fathers haue not taught them in their youth: For the fruit doth neuer grow in the haruest, vnlesse the tree did beare blosoms in the spring.
I see oftentimes many Fathers complaine of their children, saying that they are disobedient and proude vnto them; and they do not consider that they themselues are the cause of all those euils. For too much abundance and liberty of youth is no other, but a prophesie and manifest token of disobedience in age. I know not why Princes and great Lords do toyle, & oppresse so much, & scratch to leaue their children great estates, and on the other side wee see that in teaching them, they are and shewe themselues too negligent: for Princes and great Lordes ought to make account, that all that which they leaue of their substance to a wicked heyre is vtterly lost.
The wise men, and those which in their consciences are vpright, and of their honours carefull, ought to bee very diligent to bring vppe their children, and chiefly that they consider whether they bee meete to inherite their estates. And if perchance the fathers see that their children bee more giuen to folly then to noblenes and wisdome; then should I bee ashamed to see a father that is wise, trauell all the dayes of his life, to leaue much substance to an euill brought vp childe after his death.
It is a griefe to declare, and a monstrous thing to see the cates which the Fathers take to gather riches, and the diligence that children haue to spend them. And in this case I say, the sonne is fortunate for that hee doth enherite, and the Father a foole for that he doth bequeath.
In my opinion, Fathers are bound to instruct their children well for two causes, the one for that they are nearest The reason why parents are bound to instruct then children. to them, and also because they ought to be their heyres: For truly with great griefe and sorrow I suppose hee doth take his death, which leaueth to a foole or an vnthrift the toyle of all his life.
Hyzearchus the Greeke Hystorian in the booke of his Antiquities, & Sabellicus in his generall hystory sayeth, that a father and a sonne came to complain to the famous Philosopher and ancient Solon Solinon: the Sonne complained of the father, and the father of the sonne.
First, the sonne informed the quarrell to the Philosopher, saying these words. I complaine of my Father, because hee being rich hath disinherited mee, and made me poore, and in my steade hath adopted another heyre, the which thing my father ought not, nor cannot doe: for since he gaue me so frayle flesh, it is reason hee giue me his goods to maintaine [Page 298] my seeblenes.
To these wordes answered the father: I complaine of my sonne, because hee hath not beene as a gentle sonne, but rather as a cruell enemie: for in all things since hee was borne, hee hath beene disobedient to my will, wherefore I thought it good to disinherite him before my death. I would I were quit of all my substance so that the gods had quit him of his life: for the earth is very cruell that swalloweth not the child aliue, which to his father is disobedient. In that he sayeth, I haue adopted another child for mine heyre, I confesse it is true: and for so much as hee sayeth, that I haue disinherited him, and abiected him from my heritage, hee beeing begotten of my body, hereunto I answere.
That I haue not disinherited my sonne, but I haue disinherited his pleasure, to the entent hee shall not enioy my trauell: for there can bee nothing more vniust, then that the young and vicious sonne should take his pleasure of the swet and droppes of the aged father.
The sonne replyed to his Father How childrē ought to bee brought vp. and sayde I confesse I haue offended my Father, and also I confesse, that I haue liued in pleasures: yet if I may speake the truth, though I were disobedient and euill, my Father ought to beare the blame: and if for this cause hee doeth dishenherite mee, I thinke hee doth me great iniurie: for the father that instructeth not his son in vertue in his youth, wrongfully disinheriteth him, though he be disobedient in his age.
The Father againe replyeth, and sayeth. It is true my sonne, that I brought thee vp too wantonly in thy youth, but thou knowest well that I haue taught thee sundry times, and besides that I did correct thee when thou camest to some discretion.
And if in thy youth I did not instruct thee in learning: it was for that thou in thy tender age diddest want vnderstanding, but after that thou hadst age to vnderstand, discretion to receyue, and strength to exercise it; I beganne to punish thee, to teache thee, and to instruct thee. For where no vnderstanding is in the child, there in vaine they teach doctrine.
Since thou art old (quoth the sonne) and I young: since thou art my Father, and I thy sonne: for that thou hast white hayres on thy beard, and I none at all: it is but reason that thou be belieued, and I condemned. For in this world wee see oft times, that the small authoritie of the person, maketh him to loose his great iustice.
I graunt thee (my Father) that when What mischiefe commeth by giuing childrē their owne will in their youth. I was a childe, thou diddest cause mee to learne to reade: but thou wilt not denie, that if I did commit any faulte, thou wouldst neuer agree I should be punished. And hereof it came, that thou suffering me to do what I would in my Youth, haue bin disobedient to thee euer since in my age. And I say vnto thee further, that if in this case I haue offended, truely mee thinketh thou canst not bee excused: for the fathers in the youth of their children, ought not onely to teach them to dispute of vertues, & what vertue is: but they ought to inforce thē to be vertuous in deed. For it is a good token, when Youth (before they knowe vices) haue been accustomed to practise vertues.
Both partyes then diligently heard the good Phylosopher Solon Solinon speake these words: I giue iudgement that the Father of this childe be not buryed after his death: and I commaund that the Sonne, because in his youth, hee hath (not obeyed his Father who is olde) should be disinherited whilest the Father liueth, from all his substance, on such condition, that after his death, his sonnes [Page 299] should inherite the Heritage: and so returne to the heyres of the Sonne, and liue of the Father. For it were vniust, that the innocencie of the Sonne should be condemned for the offence of the Father.
I do commaund also, that all the goods be committed vnto some faithfull person, to the end they may giue the Father meat and drinke during his life: and to make a graue for the Sonne after his death:
I haue not without a cause giuen such iudgement, the which comprehendeth life and death: For the Gods will not that for one pleasure the punishment bee double, but that wee chastise and punish the one in the life, taking from him his honour and goods, and that wee punish others after their death, taking from them memorie and buryall.
Truely the sentence which the Philosopher gaue, was very graue: and would to GOD wee had him for a iudge of this world presently. For I sweare, that hee should finde manie Children now a dayes for to disinherite, and moe Fathers to punish. For, I cannot tell which is greater: The shame of the children to disobey their Fathers, or the negligence of the Fathers in bringing vp their children.
Sextus Cheronens. in the second book of the sayings of the Philosophers declareth, that a Citizen of Athens saide vnto Dyogenes the Phylosopher, these wordes.
Tell mee Dyogenes: What shall I doe, to be in the fauour of the Gods, and not in the hatred of men? For, oft times amongst you Phylosophers I haue hearde say, that there is a great Questions demaunded of Dyogenes the Phylosopher. difference between that that the gods will, and that which men loue.
Dyogenes answered: Thou speakest more then thou oughtest to speake, that the Gods will one thing, and men another: for the Gods are but as a center of mercy, and men are but as a denne of malice, if thou wilt enioy rest in thy dayes, and keepe thy life pure and cleane: thou must obserue these three things. 2. Things to be obserued of all men.
The first, honour thy Gods deuoutely: for the man which doeth not serue and honour the Gods, in all his enterprises hee shall be vnfortunate.
The second, bee very diligent to bring vp thy children well: for the man hath no enemie so troublesome, as his owne sonne, if hee bee not well brought vp.
The third thing bee thankefull to thy good benefactors and friends, for the Oracle of Apollo sayth, that the man who is vnthankefull, of all the world shall be abhorred.
And I tell thee further, my friend, that of these three things the most profitable (though it be more troublesome) is for a man to teach, and bring vp his children well.
This therefore was the answere that the Philosopher Diogenes made to the demaund of the Citizen. It is great pitty and griefe to see a young childe how the bloud doth stirre him to see how the flesh doth prouoke him to accomplish his desire, to see sensuality goe before, and he himselfe to come behind, to see the malitious World to watch him; to see how the Diuell doth tempte him, to see how vices binde him, and in all that which is spoken, to see how the Father is negligent, as if hee had no children; whereas in deede the olde man, by the fewe vertues he hath had in his Youth: may easily knowe the infirmityes and vices, wherewith his Sonne is incompassed.
If the expert had neuer beene ignorant: if the Fathers had neuer beene children: if the vertuous had neuer been vicious: if the fine wittes had neuer been deceiued: it were no maruell if the Fathers were negligent in teaching their children. For the little experience excuseth men of great [Page 300] offences: but since thou art my Father, and that first thou wert a Sonne, since thou art old, and hast bin young, and besides all this, since that pride hath inflamed thee, lechery hath burned thee, wrath hath wounded thee, Negligence hath hindred thee, Couetousnes hath blinded thee, & Glotonie surfetted thee: Tell mee cruell Father, since so many vices haue reigned in thee; why hast thou not an eye to thy childe whom of thy own bloud thou hast begotten? And if thou doest it not because he is thy childe, thou oughtest to doe it, because hee is thy neerest. For it is vnpossible that the child which with many vices is assaulted and not succoured, but in the ende hee should be infamed, and to the dishonour of the father most wickedly ouercome.
It is vnpossible to keepe Flesh well sauoured, vnlesse it bee first salted. It What comfort parents may looke for of their children. is vnpossible that the Fish should liue without water. It is vnpossible but that the Rose should wither, which is of the thorne ouergrowne. So like it is vnpossible that the Fathers should haue any comfort of their children in their age, vnlesse they haue instructed them in vertue in their youth.
And to speake further in this matter (I say) that in the Christian catholike Religion, where in deede there is good doctrine, there alwaies is supposed to bee a good conscience.
Amongst the Writers it is a thing well knowne, how Eschines the Phylosopher was banished from Athens, and with all his familie came to dwell at Rhodes: The occasion was, because that hee and the Phylosopher Demosthenes were in great contention in the common-wealth. Wherefore the Atheniās determined to banish the one, and to keepe the other with them.
And truely they did well: for of the contentions and debates of Sages, Warres moste commonly arise amongst the people.
This Phylosopher Eschines being at Rhodes banished, amōgst others made a solemne Oration, wherin he greatly reproued the Rhodians, that they were so negligent in bringing vp their children, saying vnto them these words: I let you vnderstand (lords of Rhodes) that your Predecessours aduaunced themselues to descend, and take theyr beginning of the Lides: the which aboue all other Nations, were curious and diligent to bring vp theyr Children: and hereof came came a Law that was among them, which saide:
Wee ordeine and commaund, that if a Father haue many Children, that the most vertuous should inherite the goods and riches: and if there were but one vertuous, that he alone shold inherit the whole. And if perchance Ordinances and customes of the Rhodians. the Children were vicious, that then all should be depriued from the heritage. For the goods gottē with trauell of vertuous Fathers, ought not by reason to be inherited by vicious childrē.
These were the wordes that the Philosopher spake to the Senate of the Rhodes, and because he sayde in that oratiō many other things which touch not our matter, I will in this place omit them: For among excellēt Writers, that writing loseth much authority, when the Author from his purpose digresseth into an other matter. To say the truth, I doe not maruell that the children of Princes and great Lords be adulterers and bellygods: for that on the one part youth is the mother of idlenesse, and on the other, little experience is the cause of great offences.
And furthermore, the fathers being once dead, the children enherite their goods as quietly, being loden with vices: as if in deed they were with all vertues endued. If the young children did know for a certaine that the lawes of the Lydes [Page 301] should be obserued (that is to say) that they should not inherite, vnlesse they be vertuous: it is vnpossible but that they would leade a vertuous life, and not in this wise to run at large in the worlde. For they doe abstaine more from doing euill, fearing to lose that which they doe possesse, then for anie loue to doe that which they ought.
I do not denie, but according as the natures of the Fathers is diuers, so the inclination of the children is variable. For so much as some following theyr good inclinations, are good: and others, not resisting euill sensualities, are euill.
But yet in this matter I say, that it lyeth much in the Father that doeth bring them vp, when as yet they are young: so that the euill which nature gaue, by good bringing vp is refrayned. For oft times the good custome doth ouercome all euill inclination.
Princes and great Lordes that will be diligent in the instruction of theyr children, ought to enforme their maisters and tutors that shall teach them, to what vices and vertues their Children are moste inclined: And this ought to bee, to encourage them in that that is good, and contrarie, to reproue them in all that is euill. For, What youth ought to obstaine from. men are vndone for none other cause when they be olde: but for that they had so much pleasure when they were young.
Sextus Cheronensis, in the second booke of the auncients saith: that on a day, a cittizen of Athenes was buying things in the market, and for the qualitie of his person, the greatest parte of them were superfluous, and nothing necessarie. And in this case the poore are no lesse culpable then the rich, and the riche then the poore. For that is so little, that to sustaine manslife is necessarie, that he which hath least, hath therevnto superfluous. Therefore at this time, when Athens and her common-wealth was the Lanterne of all Greece, there was in Athens a Law long vsed, and of a great time accustomed, that nothing should be bought before a Philosopher had set the price. And A Lawe among the Athenians. truly the law was good, and would to God the same law were at this present obserued: For, there is nothing that destroieth a commonwealth more, then to permit some to sell as tyrantes, and others to buye as fooles. When the Theban was buying these things, a philosopher was present, who saide vnto him these words. Tell me, I pray thee, thou man of Thebes, Wherefore doest thou consume and wast thy money in that which is not necessarie for thy house, nor profitable for thy person? The Thebane answered him.
I let thee knowe, that I doe buye all these things for a sonne I haue of the age of xx. yeares: the which neuer did any thing that seemed vnto mee euil, nor I neuer denyed him any thing, that hee demaunded. This Philososopher answered;
Oh how happy wert thou, if as thou art a Father, thou wert a sonne? and that which the Father saieth vnto the sonne, the sonne would say vnto the father: but I am offended greatly with that thou hast told me. For vntill the childe be xxv. yeares old, he ought not to gainesay his father, and the good father ought not to condiscend vnto the appetites of the sonne.
Now I may call thee cursed father, since thou arte become subject to the will of thy sonne: and that thy sonne is not obedient to the will of his Father, so that thou alterest the order of nature: For so much as the father is become sonne of his sonne, and the sonne is become father of his father. But in the ende, I sweare vnto thee, by the immortall Gods, that when thou shalt become old and aged, thou shalt lament and weepe by thy selfe, at that which with thy Sonne thou [Page 302] diddest laugh, when he was young.
Though the words of this Phylosopher were fewe: yet a wise man will iudge the sentences to be manie.
I conclude therfore that Princes and great Lordes ought to recommend their children to their Maisters, to the ende they may teache them to change their appetites, and not to follow their owne will: so that they withdrawe them from their owne will, and cause them to learne the aduise of another. For the more a man giueth a Noble mans sonne the bridle, the more harder it is for them to receyue good doctrine.
CHAP. XXXIII. Princes ought to take heede that theyr Children bee not brought vp in pleasures and vayne delightes. For ofte times they are so wicked, that the Fathers would not onely haue them with sharpe discipline corrected: but also with bitter teares buryed.
BY experience we see that in Warre (for the defence of men) Rampiers and Forts are made according to the qualitie of the enemyes: and those which saile the daungerous Seas, doe chuse great Ships, which may breake the waues of the raging Seas: So that all wise men, according to the quality of the danger, doe seeke for the same in time some remedie.
Ofte times I muse with my selfe, and thinke if I could finde anie estate, anie age, anie Land, anie Nation, anie Realme, or any World, wherein there hath beene any man that hath passed The miserable estate of man. this life, without tasting, what aduersitie was? For, if such an one were found, I thinke it should bee a monstrous thing throughout all the earth, and by reason both the deade and liuing should enuie him.
In the ende, after my count made, I find that he which but yesterday was rich, to day is poore: hee that was whole, I see him to day sicke: he that yesterday laughed, to day I see him weepe: he that had his hearts ease, I see him now sore afflicted: hee that was Fortunate, now I see him vnluckie. Finally, him whome lately we knew aliue in the towne, now wee see buryed in the graue: And to be buryed, is nothing else but to be vtterly forgotten: For, mans friendship is so fraile, that when the Corps is couered with earth, immediatly the dead is forgotten.
One thing me thinketh to all men is grieuous, and to those of vnderstandng no lesse painfull: which is, that the miseries of this wicked world are not equally deuided; but that oft times all worldly calamityes lyeth in the necke of one man alone. For we are so vnfortunate, that the worlde giueth vs pleasures in sight, and troubles in proofe.
If a man should aske a Sage man now a daies, who hath liued in meane estate, and that hee would bee contented to tell him what hee hath past, since three yeares that he beganne to speake, vntill fiftie yeares that hee began to waxe olde: what things thinke you he would telvs, that hath chanced vnto him? truely all these that follow.
The griefes of his Children, the assaults of his enemyes, the importunities of his wife, the wantonnes of his What misfortunes are incident to man in this life. daughters, sicknes in his person, great losse of goods, generall famine in the citie, cruel plagues in his countrey, extreame colde in winter, noysom heate in Summer, sorrowfull deaths of his friendes: and enuious prosperities of his enemyes. Finally, hee will say, that hee passed such, and so manie things, that oft times he bewailed the [Page 303] woful life, and desired the sweet death.
If the miserable man hath passed such things outwardly, what would he say of those which he hath suffered inwardly? the which though some discrete men may know, yet truly others dare not tell. For the trauells which the bodie passeth in 50. yeares, may well bee counted in a day: but that which the heart suffereth in one day, cānot be counted in a hundred yeres. A man cannot denie, but that wee would count him rash, which with a reede would meet another that hath a sword: and him for a foole, that wold put off his shooes to walke vpon the Thornes. But without comparison, we ought to esteeme him for the most foole, that with his tender flesh thinketh to preuaile against so manie euill fortunes: for, without doubt, the man that is of his body delicate, passeth his life with much paine.
Oh how happie may that man bee called, which neuer tasted what pleasure meaneth. For men which from their infancie haue bin brought vp in pleasures, for want of wisedome know Men ought to flie the pleasures & vanities of this life. not how to chuse the good, and for lacke of force cannot resist the euill: which is the cause, that Noble-mens children oft times commit sundry heinous offences. For it is an infallible rule, that the more a man giueth himselfe to pleasures, the more he is intangled in vices.
It is a thing worthie to be noted, and woefull to see, how polliticke we be to augment things of honour, how bolde we be to enterprize them: how fortunate to compasse them: how diligent to keepe them: how circumspect to sustaine them: and afterward what pittie it is to see, how vnfortunate we are to loose all that, which so long time we haue searched for, kept, and possessed. And that which is most to bee lamented in this case is, that the goods and Honours are not lost for want of diligence and trauell of the father, but for the aboundance of pleasures and vices of the sonne. Finally, let the Riche man knowe, that that which hee hath wonne in labour and toyle waking, his Sonne (beeing euill brought vp) shal consume in pleasures sleeping.
One of the greatest vanities that reigneth at this, day amongst the children of vanitie is, that the Father cannot shewe vnto his Sonne the loue which he beareth him, but in suffering him to be brought vp in the pleasures and vanities of this life. Truly, he that is such a one, ought not to be called a pittifull father, but a cruell step-father: for no man will denie me this, but that where there is Youth, liberty, pleasure, and Money, there will all the vices of this world be resident.
Lycurgus the great King, giuer of lawes, and sage Philosopher, ordained Wholsome and warie lawes of the Lacedemonians. to the Lacedemonians, that all the children which were borne in Citties and good Townes, should bee sent to be brought vp in villages, till they were xxv. yeares of age. And Liuius saith, that the Lygures were, which in olde time were confederates with those of Capua, and great enemyes to the people of Rome,
They had a Lawe amongst them, that none should take wages in the warres, vnlesse he had bin brought vp in the fields, or that he had bin a heard man in the Moūtains: so that through one of these two waies, their flesh was hardned, their joyntes accustomed to suffer the heate and the cold, and their bodies more meete to endure the trauells of the warres. In the yeare of the foundation of Rome 140. the Romalnes made cruell warres with the Lygures, against whome was sent Gneus Fabritius: of the which in the end he triumphed; and the day following this triumph, hee spake vnto the Senate, in these words. Worthie Senatours, [Page 304] I haue beene these fiue yeares against the Ligures, and by the immortall Gods I sweare vnto you, that in all this time there passed not one weeke but wee had eyther battell or some perillous skirmish. And that which The speech of [...] concerning the professe of the Lygures a man ought most to maruell at is, that I neuer perceyued any feare or cowardlinesse to bee in those barbarous people, whereby they were constrained to demaund peace of the people of Rome.
These Lygures pursued with such fiercenesse the wars, that often times they tooke away from vs all hope to winne the victory: for betweene Armies, the great might of the one, doth put alwayes the others in feare. And I wil tell you (Fathers conscript,) their bringing vp, to the ende the Romaine youth should take heereby example.
When they are young, they are put to bee Sheapheardes, because they should accustome their flesh in those mountaines to endure trauell: by the which custome they are so much masters of themselues (the countrey being alwayes full of snow and Ise in the winter, and also noysom through the extreame heate in the Summer) that I sweare by the God Apollo, in all this time of fiue yeares, of those wee haue not seene one prease to the Fire in the winter, nor couet the shadow in the Summer.
Doe not yee thinke worthie Senators, that I was willing to declare vnto you these things in the Senate, for any desire I haue, that you should esteeme any thing the more my Triumph: but I doe tell it you to this ende, that you may haue an eye, and take heede to your men of warre, to the ende they may alwayes be occupied, and that you suffer them not to be idle. For it is more perillous for the Romaine Armyes to bee ouercome with vices, thē to be discomfited with their enemies.
And to talke of these matters more at large, me thinketh they should prouide and commaund, that Rich men should not be so hardie to bring vppe their children too delicately: for in the ende, it is vnpossible that the delicate person should win with his hands the honour of many victories.
That which moued me to say somuch as I haue sayd (worthie Senatours) is to the ende you may knowe, that the Lygures were not ouercome by the power of Rome: but because Fortune was against them. And since in nothing Fortune sheweth her selfe so variable, as in the things of the warre: mee thinketh that though the Ligures are nowe vanquished and ouercome, yet notwithstanding you ought to entertain them in loue: and to take them for your confoederates: For it is not good counsell, to hazzard that into the handes of Fortune, which a man may compasse by friendship.
The Authour of this which is spoken, is called Iunius Pratus, in the Booke of the concord of Realmes: and hee saieth in that place, that this captaine Gneus Fabritius, was counted no lesse sage for that he spake, then esteemed valiant for that hee did.
In the olde time, those of the Isles Balleares, (which now are called Maiorque, and Minorque) though they were not counted wise; yet at the least in bringing vp their Children, they shewed rhemselues not negligent.
Because they were broght vp in hardnes in their youth, and could endure all painefull exercises of the warres. Those of Carthage gaue fiue prisoners of Rome, for one slaue of Maiorque.
Dyodorus Siculus saith, in those Iles, the mother did not giue the children bread with their own hands: but they did put it on a high poale, so that they might see the Bread with theyr eyes, but they could not reach it with their hāds. Wherfore when they would eat [Page 305] they should first with hurling of stones, or slinges win it, or else fast. Though the worke were of children, yet the inuention came of a high wit: And hereof it came, that the Baleares were esteemed for valiant mē, as well in wrastling, as in slinges for to hurle: for they did hurle with a sling to hit a white, as the Lygures shoot now in a Crosse-bow to hit the pricke. Those of Great Brittaine, which now we cal England, amongst all the barbarous, were men most barbarous: but you ought to know, that within the space of few yeares, the Romanes were vanquished of them many times: for time in all things bringeth such change and alteration, that those which once wee knew great Lords, within a while after wee haue seene themslaues.
Herodian in his history of Seuerus Emperour of Rome sayeth, That an Ambassadour of Brittaine being one day in Rome (as by chance they gaue him a froward answer in the Senate) spake stoutely before them all, and saide these words. The stoute answere of the English Ambassadour to the Romanes.
I am sorry you will not accept peace, nor graunt Truce, the which thing shall bee for the greater iustification of your warre. For afterwardes none can take but that which fortune shall giue: For in the end the delicate flesh of Rome shall feele if the bloudy swords of Brittaine will cut. The English history sayeth, and it is true, that though the country be very cold & that the water freezeth oft; yet the women had a custome to carry theyr children where the water was frozen, and breaking the Ice with a stone, with the same Ise they vsed to rubbe the body of the Infant, to the end to harden their flesh, and to make them more apter to endure trauels. And without doubt, they had reason, for I wish no greater pennance to delicate men, then in the Winter to see them without fire, and in the Summer to want fresh shadow.
Sith this was the custome of the Brittaines, it is but reason we credite Iulius Caesar, in that hee sayeth in his Comentaries, that is to say, that he passed many daungers before hee could ouercome them: for they with as little feare did hide themselues, & diued vnder the colde water, as verily a man would haue rested himselfe in a pleasant shadow.
As Lucanus and Appianus Alexandrinus say, amongst other Nations which came to succour the greate Pompey in Pharsalia, were the Messagetes, the which (as they say) in their youth did suck no other but the milke of Camels, and eate bread of akorns. These barbarous people did these things to the end to harden their bodies, to bee able to endure trauell, & to haue their legges lighter for to runne.
In this case wee cannot cal them barbarous, but wee ought to call them men of good vnderstanding: for it is vnpossible for the man that eateth much to runne fast. Viriatus a Spaniard, was King of the Lusitaines, and a great enemy of the Romaines, who was so aduenturous in the war, and so valiant in his person, that the Romaines (by the experience of his deedes) found him inuincible: for in the space of 13. yeares they coulde neuer haue any victory of him: the which when they saw, they determined The prowesse of Viriatus, and his vntimely death. to poyson him, & did so indeed. At whose death they more reioyced, then if they had wonne the Sgniorie of all Lusitania: For if Viriatus had not dyed, they had neuer brought the Lusitanians vnder their subiection. Iunius Rusticus in his Epitomie sayeth, that this Viriatus in his youth was a Heard-man, & kept cattell by the riuer of Guadiana, and after that he waxed older, vsed to robbe, [Page 306] and assault men by the high wayes. And after that he was forty yeares of age, he became King of the Lusitaines and not by force, but by election: for when the people saw themselues enuironed and assaulted on euery side with enemies, they chose rather stout, strong and hardy men for their Captaines, then noble men for their guides.
If the ancient Historiographers deceyue me not, when Viriatus was a thiefe, hee ledde with him alwayes at the least a hundred theeues, the which were shod with leaden shooes so that when they were enforced to runne, they put off their shooes. And thus although all the day they went with leaden shooes, yet in the night they ranne like swift buckes: for it is a generall rule, that the looser the ioynts are, the more swifter shall the legges be to runne.
In the booke of the iests of the Lumbardes, Paulus Diaconus sayeth, An ancient Law obserued by the inhabitants of Capua, that in the olde time those of Capua had a Law, that vntill the children were married, the fathers should giue them no bed to sleepe on, nor permit them to sit at the table to eate: but that they should eate their meate in their hands; and take their rest on the ground.
And truly it was a commendable law, for rest was neuer inuēted for the yong man which hath no beard; but for the aged, being lame, impotent and crooked.
Quintus Cincinatus was second Dictator of Rome, and indeed for his deserts was the first Emperour of the earth.
This excellent man was brought vp in so great trauell, that his handes were found full of knots, the plough was in his armes, and the swette in his face when hee was sought for to bee Dictator of Rome. For the Ancients desired rather to bee ruled of them that knew not, but how to plough the ground; then of them that delighted in nothing else, but to liue in pleasures among the people.
Caligula which was the fourth Emperour of Rome (as they say) was brought vp with such cost and delicatenesse in his his youth, that they were in doubt in Rome, whether Drusius Germanicus his father employed more for the Armies then Caligula his sonne spent in the cradle for his pleasures.
This rehearsed againe, I would now know of Princes and great lords what part they would take, that is to say, whether with Cincinatus, which by his stootenes wan so many strange Countries, or with Caligula, that in his filthy lusts spared not his proper sister.
In mine opinion, there needeth no great deliberation to aunswere this question (that is to say) the goodnesse of the one, and the wickednesse of the other: for there was no battell but Cincinatus did ouercome, nor there was any vice but Caligula did inuent. Suetonius Tranquillus in the second Booke of Caesars sayeth; That when the children of the Emperour Augustus Caesar entred into the high Capitoll, where all the Senate were assembled, the Senatours rose out of their places, and made a reuerence to the children: the which when the Emperour Augustus saw, hee was much displeased, and called them backe againe. And on a day beeing demaunded why bee loued his childrē no better, he answered in this wise. If my children will bee good, they shal sit hereafter where I sit now: but if they bee euill, I will not their vices should bee reuerenced The answer of the Emperour Augustus Caesar. of the Senators: For the authoritie and grauitie of the good ought not to bee employed in the seruice of those that be wicked.
The 26 Emperour of Rome was Alexander, the which though he was [Page 307] young, was as much esteemed for his vertues amongst the Romanes, as euer Alexander the great was, for his valiantnes amongst the Greekes.
Wee cannot say, that long experience caused him to come to the Gouernment of the common-wealth: for as Herodian saieth in his sixth booke: The day that the Senatours proclaymed him Emperour, hee was so little, that his owne men bare him in theyr armes, That fortunate Emperour had a Mother called Manea, the which brought him vp fowel and diligently, that she kept alwayes a great guard of men to take heed, that no vicious man The prouidence of a careful mother. came vnto him. And let not the diligence of the Mother to the childe be little esteemed. For Princes oft times of their owne nature are good, and by euill conuersation only, they are made euill. This worthie woman keeping alwayes such a faithfull guarde of her childe, that no Flatterers should enter in to flatter him, nor malicious to tell him lyes: By chaunce on a day a Romane saide vnto her these wordes.
I thinke it not meete (most excellent princesse) that thou shouldest be so diligent about thy Sonne, to forget the affaires of the commonwealth: for Princes ought not to be kept so close, that it is more easie to obtaine a suite at the Gods, then to speake one word with the Prince. To this the Empresse Manea answered, and saide.
They which haue charge to gouerne those which do gouern, without comparison ought to feare more the vices of the King, then the enemyes of the realme. For the enemyes are destroyed in a Battell, but vices remaine during the life: and in the end, enemies doe not destroy but the possessions of the Land, but the vicious prince destroieth the good māners of the commonwealth. These words were spoken of this worthy Romane. By the Hystories which I haue declared, and by those which I omitte to recite, all vertuous men may knowe, how much it profiteth them to bring vppe their children in trauels, or to bring them vp in pleasures.
But now I imagine, that those which shall reade this, will prayse that which is well written: and also I trust they will not giue their childrē so much their owne wils: for men that reade much, and worke little, are as belles which doe found to call others, and they themselues neuer enter into the church. If the fathers did not esteeme the seruice they doe vnto God, their owne honour, nor the profite of their owne children: yet to preserue them from diseases, they ought to bring them vp in vertue, & withdraw them from vices: for truly the children which haue beene brought vp daintily, shall alwayes be diseased and sickly.
What a thing is it to see the sonne of a Labourer, the coate without points, the shirt tattered and torne, the feet bare his head without a cap, his body without a girdle, in summer without a hat, in winter without a The commendations of the labouring man. cloke, in the day plowing, in the night driuing his heard, eating bread of Rye or Otes, lying on the earth, or else on the straw: and in this trauell to see this yong man so holy and vertuous, that euery man desireth and wisheth that hee had such a sonne. The contrary commeth of Noble mens sonnes, the which wee see are nourished and brought vp betweene two fine Holland sheetes, layed in a costly cradell, made after the new fashion: they giue the Nurse what she will desire; if perchance the child be sicke, they change his Nurse, or else they appoint him a dyet.
The father and the mother sleepe neyther night nor day, all the house watcheth, they let him eate nothing but the broth of chickens, they keepe [Page 308] him diligently that hee fall not down the stayres; the child asketh nothing but it is giuen him immediately. Finally, they spend their time in seruing them, they wast their riches in giuing thē their delights, they occupy their eyes but to behold them, and they employ not their hearts but to loue them.
But I sweare that those Fathers, (which on this wise doe spend their riches to pamper them) shall one day water their eyes to bewaile thē: what it is to see the waste, that a vaine man maketh in bringing vp his childe? specially if hee be a man somewhat aged, and that at his desire hath a Childe borne. He spendeth so much goods, in bringing him vp wantonly, whiles he is young, that oft times he wanteth to marrie him when hee commeth to Age. And that which worst of all is, that that which hee spendeth and employeth; he thinketh it well bestowed, and thinketh that too much that hee giueth for Gods sake.
Though the Fathers are very large in spending, the mothers very curious, and the Nurses full of pleasaunt, and the seruaunts very diligent and attentiue: yet it followeth not that the children shold be more hole then others. For the more they are attended, the more they be diseased: the more they eate, the more they are weake: the more they reioyce, the worse they prosper: the more they waste and spend, The more tēderly children are brought vp the more diseased they proue. so much lesse they profit. And all this is not without the secrete permission of God. For God will not that the clowtes of children be of greater value then the garments of the poore.
GOD without a great mistery tooke not in hand the custody of the poote, and doeth not suffer that the children of the rich men should prosper: For the good bringeth vp his childrē with out the preiudice of the Rich, and to the profite of the Common-wealth: but the Rich bringeth vp his children with the sweate of the poore, and to the dammage of the commonwealth Therefore if this thing be true (as it is) it is but reason that the Wolfe which deuoureth vs do die: and the sheepe which clotheth vs doe liue.
The Fathers oft times for tendernes will not teach nor bring vp theyr children in doctrine, saying: That as yet hee is too young; and that there remaineth time enough for to bee learned, and that they haue leisure inough to be taught: And further, for the more excuse of their errour, they affirme, that when the child in his youth is chastned, hee runneth in daunger of his health. But the euill respect which the Fathers haue to theyr Children, God suffereth afterwardes, that they come to be so slaunderous to the commonwealth, so infamous to theyr Parents, so disobedient to, theyr fathers, so euil in their conditions, so vnaduised and light in theyr behauiour, so vnmeete for knowledge, so vncorrigible for discipline, so inclined to lyes, so enuying the truth: that their Fathers would not onely haue punished them with sharpe correction: but also they would reioyce to haue them buryed with bitter teares.
An other thing there is in this matter worthie to bee noted, and much more worthyer to bee commended, that is: that the Fathers and Mothers vnder the colour that their Children should bee somewhat gratious, they learne them to speake, to bable, and to Childrē the dishonor of their parēts whē they be not well brought vp. bee great mockers and scoffers: the which thing afterwardes redoundeth to the great infamie and dishonour of the Father, to the great perill of the Sonne, and to the greatest griefe and displeasure of the Mother. For the Childe that is brought vp wantonly, without doctrine in his youth: of necessity must be a foole, when he is old. If this which I haue said be euill, this [Page 309] which I will say is worse, that the Fathers and Mothers, the Gouernours, or Nourses, doe teach them to speake dishonest things, the which are not lawfull: and therfore ought not to be Distastfull things vnfit for either young or olde. suffered to bee spoken in that tender Age: nor the grauitie of the Auncients ought not to listen vnto them: For there are no men (vnlesse they be shamelesse) that will permit their children to be great bablers.
Those which haue the charge to gouerne good mens Children ought to bee very circumspect, that they keepe them in awe, feare, and subjection, and that they ought not to bee contented, although the Fathers say they are pleased. For the disordinate loue that the Fathers haue to them, is the cause that they can not see whether they be mockers, or euill brought vp. And if it chaunceth (as oft times it doth) that the Father should come to the Maister, to cause him to withdraw correction: In this case (if the Maister be a wise man) hee ought no lesse to reproue and admonish the Father, then to correct the sonne. And if this did not auayle, I counsell him to forsake, and leaue his charge. For the man of an honest nature, after he hath taken any charge in hand; will either bring it to passe, or else hee will dye in the same.
I will not denie, but that it is reason, Noble mens Sonnes bee more gently brought vp, handled, and honoured, then the Sonnes of the Plebeians: For more delicately is the palme tree, which bringeth forth Dates, cherished, then the Oake which bringeth forth Akornes, wherewith the hogges are fedde.
Let Princes and great Lordes beware, that the pleasures which they gaue their children their Youth, bee not so excessiue, nor of so long continuance, that when they would withdraw them, the world had not already festered them. For, the Children brought vp with too much delicatenes, are disobedient to their Fathers and Mothers: or else they are sicke in their Bodyes, or worse then that, they are vicious in their behauiours: so that their Fathers should be better to burie them quicke, then to bring them vp vicious.
CHAP. XXXIIII. How that Princes and great Lordes ought to be carefull in seeking wise men to bring vp theyr Children: Of x. conditions that good Scholemaisters ought to haue.
WHen (He) that is without ende, gaue beginning to the worlde, in this sort he beganne: Vide Genes: &c. The Sunday hee created Heauen and Earth: the Monday he created the Element, the Tuesday hee created the Planettes, the Wednesday hee created the Sunne and the Moone, the Thursday he created the Byrdes in the Ayre, and the Fishes in the Sea, the Friday hee created Adam, and Eue his wife: and truely in that hee created, and how hee created, he shewed himselfe as GOD: For, as soone as the house was made, hee furnished and peopled it with that that was necessarie, as he could well doe.
Omitting therefore the Creator: and talking of creatures: we see by experience, that a Housholder in planting Excellent comparison and forewarning, &c. a vine-yarde, immediately maketh a hedge, to the ende that the beasts doe not spoyle it, and eat it vp. And when it is well grown, he hireth some poore labourer to watche, that trauellers do not gather nor eate the grapes therof. The rich man that traffiqueth by Sea, after hee hath made a great ship, and bestowed vj. or vij. thousand ducates, [Page 310] if hee be wise, hee will first prouide a man that may gouerne her, before hee will seeke Marchandise for to fraight her: For in perillous Tempests, the greatnes of the shippe little auaileth, if the Pylote be not expert.
The Housholder that hath manie Cowes and sheepe, and likewise hath faire fieldes, and pleasant pastures for his cattell, doth not only seeke Heardmen to keepe the cattell, but also dogs to feare the wolues, and cabbaines to lodge the Heardsmen. For the cabbaine of the Shepheards, and the baying of the dogge, is but as a salueguard of the sheepe, from the rauening of the wolfe.
The mightie and valiaunt Princes, which in the Frontieres of their enemies keepe strong fortresses, seeke alwayes stout and hardy captains to defend their walls: for otherwise it were better the Fort should be battered to the ground, then it should come into the power of the enemyes.
By the comparisons aboue-named, there is no discreat man but doth vnderstand to what end my penne doth write them: that is, to know, to keepe, and proue, how that men which loue their Children well (adding this vnto it,) haue great neede of good maisters and gouernours, to teach and bring them vp. For whilest the Palme tree is but little, a frost doth easily destroy it. I meane whiles the childe is young if he haue no tutour, he is easily deceiued with the world.
If the Lorde be wise and of vnderstanding, there is no Fortresse so esteemed: neither ship so faire: nor Heard so profitable: nor Vine so fruitfull: but that hee better esteemeth to haue a good sonne then all these things together: or anie other thing in this world. For the Father ought to loue his children as his owne proper: and all residue, as gifts of fortune. If it be so (as it is indeede,) since that for to keepe and watch the Heard they seeke a good Shephearde. If for the Vyne, they seeke a good Labourer. If for to gouerne the shippe they seeke a good Pylot, and for to defend a Forte, they seeke a good captaine: why then will not the wise Fathers seeke for good maisters, to teache and to bring vp theyr Children?
Oh Princes and great Lords, I haue tolde you, and againe doe say: That if you trauell one yeare to leaue your Aduised caueats for the bringing vp of tēder youth. children goods, you ought to sweate 50. yeares to leaue them well brought vp. For it auaileth little to carry much corne to the Mill, if the mill be out of frame. I meane that in vaine Riches and treasures are gathered: when the childe that shall inherite them, hath no witte to vse them.
It is no small matter to knowe how to choose good gouernours. For the Prince is sage that findeth such a one: and much more happie is hee, that of him shall be taught. For in my opion, it is no small charge for one man to bring vp a Prince, that shall gouerne manie.
As Seneca saith: The wise man ought to conferre all things with his Friende. But first hee ought to know, who is he that is his Friend? I meane that the wise Father ought for his Children to seeke one good maister, and to him he should recommend them all: but first he ought to know what hee is? For, that man is very simple, which wil buy a Horse, before he see and proue him, whether he be whole or lame. Hee ought to haue many good conditions and qualityes that should bring vp the children of Princes and great Lords: for by one way they nourish the tender trees in the Orchard, and after another sort they plant the wilde trees in the mountaines.
Therefore the case shalbe this, that weewill declare here what conditions and behauiours the Maisters and gouernors [Page 311] of Noblemens sonnes ought to haue, which may bring them to honour: and theyr disciples to bee well taught and brought vp. For the glorie of the disciple alwayes redoundeth to the honour and praise of his maister.
The first condition is, that he which ought to bee a Tutor to Noble mens What conditions belong to a good schol master. children should bee no lesse then 40. yeares of age, & no more then 60. because the maister that is yong, is ashamed to commaund, and if he be aged, he is not able to correct.
The second, it is necessary that Tutors be very honest, and that not onely in purenes of conscience, but also in the outward appearance, and cleanenes of life: For, it is vnpossible the childe bee honest, if the Master be dissolute.
The third, it is necessarie that Tutors and gouernours of Princes and great Lords be true men, not onely in their wordes, but also in then Couenauntes. For to say the trueth, that mouth which is alwayes full of lyes, ought not by reason to be a teacher of the truth.
The fourth condition, it is necessarie that the gouernors of Princes and great Lorde (of their owne nature) be liberall: For oft times the great couetousnes of Masters, maketh the hearts of Princes to be greedy and couetous.
The fifth, it is necessarie that the masters and gouernours of Princes and great Lordes be moderate in wordes and very resolute in sentences: so that they ought to teach the Children to speake little, and to harken much. For it is the chiefest vertue in a Prince, to heare with patience, and to speake with wisedome.
The sixt condition is, it is necessarie that the maisters & tutors of Princes &c. be wise men and temperate: so that the grauitie of the Maister, may restrain the lightnes of the Schollers: For, there is no greater plagues in Realms, then for Princes to be young, and their teachers to be light.
The seuenth, it is necessary that the masters and tutors of Princes & great Lords be well learned in diuinitie and humanity: in such sort, that that which they teach the Princes by word, they may shew it by writing, to the ende that other Princes may execute and put the same in vre: For mens harts are sooner moued by the examples of those which are past, then by the words of them that are present.
The eight condition: it is necessary that the Maisters and tutors of Princes, bee not giuen to the vice of the flesh: For as they are young, and naturally giuē to the flesh, so they haue no strength to abide chaste, neither wisedome to beware of the snares. Therefore it is necessarie that their maisters be pure and honest: for the disciples shall neuer be chaste, if the maister be vicious.
The ninth: it is necessarie that the maisters and tutours of Princes and great Lordes haue good conditions, because the children of Noble-men, (beeing daintily brought vp) alwayes learne euil conditions, the which their Maisters ought to reforme; more by good conuersation, then by sharpe correction. For oft times it chaunceth Like master like scholler that whereas the Master is cruell, the scholler is not mercifull.
The tenth: it is necessarie that the maisters and tutours of Princes and great Lords, haue not onely seene and read many things: but also that they haue proued changeable fortune. For since Noble mens sonnes (by the gifte of GOD,) haue great Estates, they ought therfore to prouide to speak to manie, to answer to manie, and to entreat with manie: & it is very profitable for them to be conuersant with expert men, for in the end the approued man in counsell hath preheminence. [Page 312] I was willing to bring in these rules in my writing, to the end that fathers may keepe them in their memory, when they doe seeke Masters to teach their children; for in my opinion, the father is more in fault to seeke an euil master, then the Master is to make an euill Scholer; For if I choose euill Taylers to cut my gowne, it is my fault that the cloth is lost, and my gowne marred. Albeit the Romans were in all their doings circumspect, yet for this one thing I must enuy the good doctrine which they gaue to noble mens children: for without doubt it is vnpossible that in any City there bee a good Common-welth vnlesse they are very circumspect to bring vp young children.
Sabellicus in his rapsodies sayeth, that in the 425. yeares of the foundation of Rome, Quintus Seruilius, and Lucius Germinus then Consuls, being What is required in a well gouerned Cō mon welth in the warre against the Volces, the stout aduenturous Captaine Camillus there rose a great strife and contention in Rome amongst the people, and the Knights: and that contention was vpon the prouision of offices: for in great Common-Wealthes it hath beene an auncient quarrell that in Knights and Gentlemen, there surmounteth pride in commaunding: and among the people, there wanteth patience in obeying.
The Kinghtes and Gentlemen would they should choose a Tribune Militare in the Senate, to speake in the name of all the Knights, that were absent and present: for they sayde, that since they were alwayes at the warre, the whole Common wealth remayned in the power of the people.
The Commons on the other part importuned and desired, that a new Officer should be created, the which should haue the charge to examine and take account how the youth of Rome were brought vp: because the common people did accuse the Knightes and Gentlemen, that the longer they remained in the warres, the more sensually their children liued in Rome.
It was decreede then that a Tribune Militare should bee erected, the which in authority and dignitie should be equall with the Senators, and that hee should represent the state of Warlike Knightes: but the office continued no longer then 4. yeares in Rome, (that is to say) til the time that Camillus returned from the warres: for things that are grounded of no reason, of themselues they come to nought.
All the Knightes and Gentlemen sought to the vttermost of their power to maintain their preheminence: and on the other side, all the Comminalty of Rome were against it. In the end the good Captaine Camillus called all the Knightes and Gentlemen together, and sayde vnto them these words.
I am greatly ashamed to see that the stoutenesse should be so litle of the Roman knights, that they shold The speech of Camillus condiscend to the will of the Plebeians: for indeed the mighty do not get so much honor to ouercome the little, as the little doe to striue with the great. I say that the strife and debate amongst you in Rome, doth displease me much: therefore (you knights) if you will not lose your honours, you must eyther kill them, or ouercome them. You cannot ouercome them, because they are many: and kill them you ought not, for in the end they are yours, and therefore there is no better remedie then to dissemble with them, For things which suffer no force, nor obserue not iustice, ought alwaies, vntill conuenient time, to bee dissembled.
[Page 313] The immortall Gods did not create Romaine knights to gouern people, but to conquer Realmes. And I say further, that they did not create vs to teach lawes to ours: but to giue lawes to strangers. And if we be the children of our fathers, and imitators of the ancient Romaines: we will not content our selues to commaund in Rome, but to commaund those which do command in Rome. For the heart of a true Romaine doth little esteeme to see himselfe Lord of this world: if he know that there is another to conquer. You others did create this Tribune Militare, we being in the warre: whereof now there is no necessity, since wee are in peace. And the cause why I was willing there shoulde bee none in the Common wealth, was for that there was not riches in Rome sufficient to acquite the deserts of the Romane chiualrie. And if you esteeme an honourable office to be a Tribune Militare, since you cannot all haue it, mee thinketh you should all want it. For among the Noble men and Plebeians it is not meete, that one alone should enioy that, which many haue deserued.
This History Sabellicus declareth, and alleadgeth Pulio for his authour, and reciteth that for this good worke that Camillus did in Rome (that is to say) to set the great and the small at one. He was as well beloued of the Romaines, as hee was feared of the enemies.
And not without a iust cause; for in my opinion, it is a greater vertue to pacifie his owne, then to robbe strangers. As touching the office Camillus loued of the Romanes, and feared of his enemies. of this Tribune, wherupon this great contention rose in Rome, I cannot tell which was greater, the foolish rashnesse of the Knightes to procure it, or the wisedome of Camillus to abolish it: For to say the truth, the art of Chiualry was inuented more to defend the common wealth, then to bide at home, and haue the charge of iustice: For to the good Knight, it seemeth better to bee loaden with weapons to resist enemies, then to be enuironed with bookes to determine causes.
Returning therefore to that which the people sayde against the Souldiers: It was ordained by consent of all, that in Rome an office shoulde be erected, and that he which should haue it; should haue the charge to goe thorow Rome, to see what they were in Rome that did not instruct their children in good doctrine: and if perchance he found any neighbors A good law in Rome, fitte to bee vsed all the world ouer. child that was euill taught, he chastised and banished the Father. And truly the punishment was very iust, for the father deserueth more punishment, for that he doth therunto consent, then the child deserueth more the offences which he doth commit. When Rome was Rome, and that of all the world the Common wealth thereof was commended, they chose for an officer therein the most auncient and vertuous Romane, who was called the Generall visiter of the children of Rome: and it seemeth to bee true, for so much as hee which had this office one yeare, hoped to bee Consul, Dictator or Censor the next; as it appeared by Marcus Porcio, who desired to bee corrector of the children, and afterwards succeeded to bee Censor of the Romane people: for the Romanes did not offer the office of iustice to any man, vnlesse hee had experience of all Offices. Patricius Seuensis in the booke of the Commonwealth sayth, that before the warres were between Carthage and Rome, the Common wealth of Carthage was very well gouerned, and as it beseemed such a noble City: but it is an ancient priuiledge of the warre that it killeth the persons, consumeth the goods, [Page 314] and aboue all, engendreth a new passion and misery; and in the end destroyeth all good ancient customes.
The Carthagenians therefore had a custome that the children, and especially A custome of the Carthagenians. those which were of honest men, should be put in the Temples from three yeeres till twelue, and so from twelue till twenty they learned crafts, sciences and occupations, and from 20. til 25. they instructed thē in the feates of war, and at the end of 30. yeares they gaue themselues to marriage: for amongst them it was a Law inuiolable, that no man should marrie vntill he were thirty yeares of age, and the woman 25. And after that they were married, the moneth following they ought to present themselues before the Senate, and there to choose what kinde of estate they would take vpon them to liue in and what their mindes most desired (that is to say) if they would serue in the Temples, follow the warre, or trauell the seas, or get their liuing by land, or follow their occupation which they had learned. And looke what estate or office that day they chose, the same they kept and occupyed during their life: and truely the law was very good, because such change of estates and Offices in the World, are occasion that presently so many come to destruction. All the excellent and ancient Princes had many great Philosophers for their Masters: and this seemeth to be true by this, that king Darius had Lichanins the philosopher for his master: the great Alexander had Aristotle the Philosopher for his Master, King Artaxerces had Pindarus the philosopher for his Master. The aduenturous and hardy captaine of the Athenians Palemo had Xenocrates the philosopher for his master. Xemaides (onely king of the Corinthians) had Chilo the philosopher for his Master, and tutour to his Children.
Epamynundus Prince of the Thebanes had for his master and councellour Maruchus the Philosopher.
Vlysses the Greeke (as Homer sayeth) had for his master and companion in his trauels, Catinus the philosopher.
Pirrus (which was King of the Epirotes, and a great defendor of the Tharentines) had for his Master and Chronicler Arthemius the philosopher, of whom Cicero speaketh ad Atticum, that his sword was sharper to fight then his penne ready for to write.
The great King Ptholomeus Philodelphus was not onely Scholer of the most singular Philosophers of Greece: but also after he was King, he sent for 72. Philosophers, which were Hebrewes. Cirus King of the Persians, that destroyed the great Babylon, had for his Master Pristicus the Philosopher. Traian the Emperour had Plutarch for his Master, who did not onely teach him in his youth: but also wrote him a booke how he ought to gouerne himselfe and his commō wealth. By these few examples which I haue expressed, and by many other which I omit, Princes at this present may see, how carefull princes were in times past, to giue their children wise and learned men. O princes & great Lords, since you at this present do presume and take vpon you that which your Forefathers did, I would that now you would consider, who brought them to so high estate: & who leaueth them eternall memorie? for without doubt noble men neuer The carefulnes of Princes in times past to bring vp their chidren. wan renown for the pleasurs they had in vices, but for the trauels they had in vertues. Againe I say, that Princes in times past were not famous for their stoutnes, & apt disposition of their bodies, nor for discent of noble lynage, nor for the possessiō [Page 315] of many Realmes: or heaping vp of great treasures: but they wanne and obtained immortall renowne, for that their Fathers in their youth put them vnder the tuition of wise and learned tutours, which taught them good doctrine; and when they were of age, gaue them good counsellours, to gouerne the common-wealth. Laertius in the life of the Phylosophers: and Bocchas in the Booke of the linage of Gods, say thus;
That among the Phylosophers of Athens there was a custome, that no straunge Phylosopher should reade in their Schooles, before hee were first examined in naturall and morall Phylosophie: For among the Greekes it was an auncient Prouerbe: That in the schoole of Athens, no vicious man A custome among the Athemans. could enter, nor idle word be spoken: neyther they did consent that any ignorant Phylosopher should come in, to reade there.
Now as by chaunce many phylosophers were come from the Mount Olympus: amongst the refidue, there was one came to see the philosophers of Athens, who was natiue of Thebes, a man (as afterwardes hee declared himselfe) in Morall and naturall phylosophie very well learned: And since he desired to remaine in Athens, hee was examined: and of many and diuers things demanded. And amongst the others, these following were some of them.
First, they asked him, what causeth women to bee so froward, since it is true that nature made them shamefaste, Questions demaunded by the phylosophers of Athens. and created them simple?
The Phylosopher answered. A woman is not froward, but because shee hath too much her will, and wanteth shame.
Secondarily, they asked him, why young men are vndone? hee answered: because Time aboundeth them for to doe euill, and Maisters wanteth to enforce them to doe good.
Thirdly, they asked him, why are Wise men deceyued, as well as the simple? he answered: The wise man is neuer deceyued, but by him that vseth faire wordes, and hath euill conditions.
Fourthly, they asked him, of whom men ought most to beware? he aunswered: That there is to a man no greater enemie, then hee which seeth that thing in thee, which hee desireth to haue in himselfe.
Fifthly, they asked him, why manie princes begunne well, and ended euill? hee aunswered: Princes begin well, because their nature is good: and they ende euill, because no man doth gaine-say them.
Sixtly, they asked him, why do princes commit such follyes? hee answered: Because Flattterers aboundeth that deceyue them: and true men are wanting, which should serue them.
Seuenthly, they asked him, why the Auncients were so sage, and men at this present were so simple? hee aunswered: Because the Auncients did not procure, but to knowe: and these present, doe not trauell, but for to haue.
Eightly, they asked him, why so manie vices were nourished in the pallaces of princes? hee aunswered: Because pleasures abound, and counsell wanteth.
The ninth, they asked him, why the most parte of men liued without rest, and fewe without paine? he aunswered: No man is more without, and suffereth more paine: then hee that dyeth for the goods of another, and little esteemeth his owne.
The tenth, they asked him, whereby they might knowe the Commonwealth to bee vndone? hee aunswered: There is no Common-wealth vndone, but onely, where the young [Page 316] are light, and the old vicious.
The 11. they asked him wherwith the Common-wealth is maintained? he answered: The common wealth cānot decay where iustice remaineth for the poore, punishment for the tyrants, weight and measure plentifull: and chiefly if there be good doctrine for the young, and little couetousnesse in the old.
Affro the Historiographer declareth this in the tenth booke De rebus Affro. de rebus Atheniensium. Atheniensium. Truly in my opinion the words of this philosopher were few, but the sentences were many. And for none other cause I did bring in this history, but to profite mee of the last word, wherein for aunswere hee sayeth, that all the profite of the Common wealth consisteth, in that there be princes that restraine the auarice of the aged, and that there bee Masters to teach the youthfull. We see by experience, that if the brute beasts were not tyed, and the corne and seedes compassed with hedges or ditches, a man shold neuer gather the fruit when they are ripe. I meane, the strife and debate will rise continually among the people, if the yong men haue not good fathers to correct them, and wise masters to teach them.
Wee cannot deny, but though the knife be made of fine steele, yet sometimes it hath neede to bee whet: and so in like manner, the young man during the time of his youth, though he doe not deserue it, yet from time to time hee ought to bee corrected. O Princes and great Lords, I know not of whom you take counsell when your sonne is borne, to prouide him of a Master and gouernour whom you chuse not as the most vertuous, but as the most richest, not as the most sagest, but as the most vile and euill taught. Finally, you doe not trust him with your children that best deserueth it, but that most procureth it. Againe I say, O princes and great Lords, why doe you not withdraw your children from their hands which haue their eyes more to their owne profite then their hearts vnto your seruice. For such to enrich themselus doe bring vp princes viciously. Let not Princes thinke, that it is a trifle to know, how to finde and chuse a good Master, and the Lord which herein doth not employ his diligence is worthy of great rebuke. And because they shall not pretend ignorance, let them beware of that man whose life is suspitious and extreame A great thing for parents to chuse good Tutors to their children. couetous.
In my opinion, in the pallace of princes the office of Tutorshippe ought not to be giuen as other common offices, that is to say, by requests or money, by priuities or importunities, eyther else for recompence of seruices: for it followeth not, though a man hath beene Ambassadour in strange Realms, or captaine of great Armies in warre, or that hee hath possessed in the royall pallace Offices of honour, or of estimation, that therefore he should bee able to teach, or bring vp their children: For to bee a good Captaine sufficeth onely to be hardy, and fortunate: but for to bee a Tutour and gouernour of Princes, hee ought to be both sage and vertuous.
CHAP. XXXV. Of the two children of Marcus Aurelius the Emperour, of the which the best beloued dyed. And of the Masters he prouided for the other named Comodus.
MArcus Aurelius the 17. Emperour of Rome, in the time that hee was married with Faustine, onely daughter of the Emperour Antonius Pius, had onely two sonnes, whereof the eldest was named Comodus, and the second Verissimus. Of these two children, the heyre was Comodus, who was so wicked in the 13. yeares he gouerned the Empire, that hee seemed rather the Disciple of Nero the cruell, then to discend by the mothers side from Antonius the mercifull, or sonne of Marcus Aurelius.
This wicked child Comodus was so light in speech, so dishonest in person and so cruell with his people, that ofttimes hee being aliue, they layed wagers that there was no vertue in him The descrip of a cruell and wicked Prince. to bee found, nor any one vice in him that wanted. On the contrary part, the second sonne named Verissimus, was comely of gesture, proper of person, and in witte very temperate, and the most of all was, that by his good conuersation of all hee was beloued: For the fayre and vertuous Princes by their beauty draweth vnto them mens eyes: and by their good conuersation they winne their hearts.
The child Verissimus was the hope of the common people, and the glory of his aged Father: so that the Emperor determined that this child Verissimus should bee heyre of the Empire, and that the Prince Commodus should bee dishenherited. Wherat no man ought to maruell, for it is but iust since the childe dooth not amend his life, that the father doe dishenherite him.
When good will doth want, and vicious pleasures abound, the children oft times by peruerse fortune come to nought: So this Marcus Aurelius being 52. yeares old, by chance this childe Verissimus, which was the glory of Rome, and the hope of the Father, at the gate of Hostia, of a sodaine sicknesse dyed.
The death of whom was as vniuersally lamented, as his life of all men The death of the Prince Verissimus greatly bewayled. was desired. It was a pittifull thing to see, how wofully the Father tooke the death of his entirely beloued son: and no lesse lamentable to beholde how the Senate tooke the death of their Prince, being the heyre: for the aged Father for sorrow did not go to the Senate, and the Senate for a few dayes enclosed themselues in the hie Capitoll.
And let no man maruell, though the death of this young Prince was so taken through Rome; for if men knew what they lose when they lose a vertuous Prince, they would neuer cease to bewayle and lament his death. When a Knight, a Gentleman a Squire, an Officer, or when any of the people dyeth, there dyeth but one: but when a Prince dyeth, which was good for all, and that he liued to the profite of all, then they ought to make account that all do dye, & they ought all greatly to lament it: for oft times it chanceth that after 2. or 3. good Princes, a foule flocke of Tyrants succeede. Therfore Marcus Aurelius the Emperor, as a man of great vnderstanding, and of a princely person, though the inward sorrow from the rootes of the heart could not bee plucked: yet hee determined to dissemble outwardly, to bury his grieues inwardly.
[Page 318] For to say the truth, none ought (for any thing) to shewe extreame sorrow, vnlesse it be that hee hath lost his honour, or that his conscience is burdened.
The good Prince, as one that hath his vineyarde frozen, wherein was all his hope, contented with himselfe, with that which remaineth, his so deerly beloued sonne being dead: and commaunded the Prince Comodus to be brought into his pallace, being his onely heire.
Iulius Capitolinus, which was one of those that wrote of the time of Marcus Aurelius, saide vpon this matter: that when the Father saw the disordinate The tendernes of the Emperour toward his sonne. frailenesse, and lightnes, and also the little shame which the prince Comodus his Sonne brought with him: the aged man beganne to weepe, and shed teares from his eyes. And it was because the simplenesse and vertues of his deere beloued Sonne Verissimus, came into his minde.
Although this Noble Emperour Marcus Aurelius, for the death of his sonne was very sorrowfull: yet notwith standing this, hee prouided how his other sonne Comodus shold be gouerned: and this before that either of age or bodie he were greater. For we cannot denye, but when Princes are men, they will bee such as in theyr youth they haue been brought vp.
The good Father therefore knowing that the euill inclinations of his should doe him damage, and the Empire in like manner: he sent throughout all Italie, for the moste sagest and expert men, to be gouernours and tutours of Comodus the Prince. Hee made them seeke for the moste profoundest in learning, the most renowmed of good fame, the most vertuous in deedes, and the most deepest in vnderstanding: For as the dust is not swept with fine cloth, but with drye broomes: so the lightnes and follyes of young men are not remedyed but by the hard discipline of the aged.
This commaundement being published and proclaimed in Rome, and the bruite scattered through Italie: there came, and ranne thither diuers kinde of Sages, whom he commaunded to be examined.
Hee being truely informed of the bloud of their predecessours, of the age of their persons, of the gouernement of their houses, of the spending of their goods, of their credite among their neighbours, of the sciences they knew: and aboue all, they were no lesse examined of the purenes of their How euery man ought to examine their tutors. liues, then of the grauitie of their persons: for there are many men which are graue in open wordes, and verie light in secrete workes.
Speaking therfore more particularly, hee commanded they should examine the Astronomers of astronomy, the Phylosophers of Phylosophie, the Musitians in musicke: the Orators in orations: and so forth, of other Sciences in order, wherin euery one said hee was instructed.
The good Emperour was not so contented to doe this once, but sundrie times: and not all in one day, but in many: and not onely by another man, but also by himselfe.
Finally, they were all examined, as if they had been all one, and that the same one should haue remayned, and been kept for all, to bee the onely Master and Tutour of the young childe, and prince Comodus.
To acquire a perfect knowledge, and to be sure not to erre in choyce of things, in my opinion is not onely required experience of himselfe, and a cleare vnderstanding: but also the aduise of another: For the knowledge of things wholly together is easie: but the choyce of them particularly is harde.
This thing is onely spoken because [Page 319] the good Emperour sent and commaunded to choose gouernours and Masters of his children.
Of many he chose few, and of few the most wisest, of the most wisest, the How circūspect the Emperour was in chusing teachers for his sonne. most expert, of the most expert, the best learned, of the best learned, the most temperate, of the most temperate, the most ancient, and of the most ancient the most noble.
Certainely such election is worthy prayse, because they be true masters and teachers of Princes, which are noble of bloud, ancient in yeers, honest in life, men of little folly, and of great experience.
According to the seuen liberall Sciences, two masters of euery one were chosen, so that the Prince was but one, and the others were 14. but this notwithstanding, the workes of this Prince Comodus were contrary to the expectation of his father Marcus Aurelius, because the intention of the good father was to teach his son all sciences, and the study of the son was to learne all vices.
At the bruite of so great a thing as this was, that the Emperor sought to prouide tutors for the Prince Comodus, and that they should not bee those which were best fauoured, but those which were found the most wisest: In short space there came so many Philosophers to Rome, as if the diuine Plato had beene reuiued againe in Greece. Let vs not maruell at all, if the Sages desired the acquaintance of familiarity of this good Emperour.: for in the ende there is no man so sage, nor so vertuous in his life, but somtime will seeke after the fauours of the world. Since there were many Sages, and that of those he chose but foureteene. It was necessary hee should honestly and wisely dispatch and giue the others leaue, as did behoue him.
And herein the good Emperour shewed himselfe so wise, that shewing to some a merry countenance, to others speaking gently, and to others by a certaine hope, and to others by gifts and presents, and all the good company of the Sages departed, and the good Emperor dispatched them, not one being sadd which departed, but very well pleased: For it is not comely for the magnificence of a Prince, that the man which commeth to his Pallace onely for his seruice, should returne murmuring, or without reward.
This good Emperour shewed him selfe Sage to seeke many Sages, hee shewed himselfe wise in the choyce of some, and of a good vnderstanding in dispatching others, and in contenting them all: for as wee see dayly by experience, though the election be good, cōmonly great affections thereupon engender: for those for not beeing chosen are sorry, and to see that others chosen are shamefast. In such case likewise, let it not be esteemed litle to serch a good remedie: for the Goldsmith oft times demaundeth more for the workemanshippe then the siluer is worth: I meane that sometimes Princes doe deserue more honour for the good With what vertues Princes ought to be adorned. meanes they vse in their affaires, then for the good sucesse whereunto it commeth: for the one aduenture guideth, but the other wisedome aduanceth.
The good Emperour not contented with this, prouided that those foureteen Philosophers which should remaine in his Pallace, should sit at the table and accompany his person: the which thing he did, to see if their life were comformable to their doctrine, and if their words did agree to their workes: for there are many men which are of a goodly tongue, and of a wicked life. Iulius Capitolinus, and Cinna Catullus which were [Page 320] writers of this History say, that it was a wonder to see how this good Emperour did marke them, to know if they were sober in feeding, temperat in drinking, modest in going, occupyed in studying, & aboue all, if they were very sage in speaking, and honest in liuing.
Would to God that Princes of our time were in this case so diligent and carefull: and that in committing in trust their affayres, they would not How princes shoulde giue credite to their seruants. care more for one then for others. For speaking with due reuerence, there aboundeth no wisedome in that Prince, which committeth a thing of importance to that man whom hee knoweth not, whether hee is able to bring it to passe or not. Many talke euill, and maruel that Princes and great Lords in so many things do erre: and for the contrary I maruell how they hit any at all. For if they committed their weighty affayres to skilfull men, though perhappes they erre once, yet they hitt it a hundred times; but when they commit theyr businesse to ignorant men, if they hit once, they misse a thousand times againe.
In this case, I say, there is nothing destroyeth young Princes more, then for that they commit not their affairs to their old and faithfull seruants: for in fine the vnfained loue is not, but in him that eateth the Princes breade dayly. It is but reason that other Princes take example by this Prince, to seeke good masters for their Children: and if the Masters bee good, and the Schollers euill, then the Fathers are blamelesse: For to Princes & great Lords, it is a great discharge of conscience, to see though theyr children bee lost, yet it is not for want of doctrine, but for aboundance of malice.
The Romane Prince had a custom to celebrate the feast of the god Genius, who was god of their birth, and that feast was celebrated euerie yeare once, which was kept the same day of the birth of the Emperour, ioifully throughout all Rome; for at this day all the prisoners were pardoned, and deliuered out of the prison Mamortina.
Yet notwithstanding you ought to know, that if any had sowed sedition among the people, or had betrayed the Armies, or robbed or Three of offences neuer pardoned in Rome. done any mischiefe in their temples: those three offences were neuer pardoned nor excused in Rome.
Euen as in Christian Religion, the greatest oath is to sweare by God; so amongst the Romanes there was no greater oath then to sweare by the God Genius.
And since it was the greatest oath none should sweare it, but by the licence of the Senate, and that ought to be betwixt the hands of the priests of the God Genius. And if perchance such an oath were taken of light occasion, hee which sware it was in danger of his life. For in Rome there was an ancient Law, that no man should make any solemne oath, but that first they should demaund licence of the Senate.
The Romaines did not permitte that lyers nor deceyuers should bee credited by their oathes: neyther did they permit them to sweare. For they sayde, that periured men doe both blaspheme the gods, & deceiue men.
The aboue named Marcus Aurelius was borne the 27. day of Aprill, in Mount Celio, in Rome. And as by chance they celebrated the Feast of the god Genius, which was the day of his birth, there came masters offence Iuglers, and common players, with other loyterers, to walke and solace themselues: For the Romaines in their great feasts occupied themselus [Page 321] all night in offering sacrifices to the gods, and afterwards they consumed all the day in pastimes. Those iuglers and players shewed so much pastime that all those which beheld them were prouoked to laugh, and the Romaines (to say the truth) were so earnest in matters of Pastime, and also in other matters of weight, that in the day of pastimes no man was sad, and in the time appointed for sadnesse no man was merry. So that in publike affaires they vsed all to mourne, or else all to reioyce. Sinna Catulus saith, that this good Emperour was so well beloued, that when he reioyced, all reioyced: and when the Romane The greate loue of the Romanes to the Emperour. people made any great feast, he himselfe was there present, to make it of more authoritie, and shewed such mirth therein, as if he alone and none other had reioyced. For otherwise if the Prince looke sadly, no man dare shew himselfe merry. The Historiographers say of this good Emperour, that in ioyfull feasts and triumphs they neuer saw him lesse merry, then was requisite for the feast: nor they euer saw him so merry, that it exceeded the grauitie of his person. For the Prince which in vertue presumeth to bee excellent, ought neither in earnest matters to be heauy, nor in things of small importance to shew himselfe light.
As Princes now adayes goe enuironed with men of armes: so did the good Emperour goe accompanyed with sage Phylosophers. Yea and more then that, which ought most to bee noted, is, that in the dayes of feasts and pleasures, the Princes at this present goe accompanied with hungry flatterers: but this noble Emperour went accompanied with wise men. For the Prince that vseth himselfe with good company, shall alwaie auoyde the euill talke of the people.
Sextus Cheronensis saith, that a Senatour called Fabius Patroclus seeing that the Emperour Marcus went alwayes to the Senate and Theaters, accompanied and enuironed with Sages: saide one day to him merrily.
I pray thee (my Lord) tell me, why A question demaunded of the Emperour, and his answere. thou goest not to the Theater as to the Theater, and to the Senate as to the Senate. For the Senate Sages ought to goe to giue vs good counsell: and to the Theaters, fooles to make vs pastime. To this the good Emperour answered: My friend, I say thou art much deceiued. For to the sacred Senate, wherein there are so many sages, I would leade all the fooles to the end they may become wise: and to the Theaters where all the fooles are, I would bring the sages, to the end to teach them wisedome. Truly this sentence was fit for him that spake it.
I admonish princes and great Lords, that in steed to keepe companie with fooles, flatterers and parasites, they prouide to haue about them wise and sage men, in especially if the fooles bee malitious: for the noble harts with one malitious word are more offended, then if they were with a venemous arrow wounded.
Therefore returning to our matter, as the Emperour was in the feast of the god Genius, and that with him also were the foureteene Sages (Masters of the prince Comodus) a iugler more cunning then all the rest, shewed sundry trickes, as commonly such vaine loyterers are wont to doe, for hee that in like vanities sheweth most pastime, is of the people best beloued.
As the Emperour Marcus Aurelius was sage: so he set his eyes more for to behold these foureteene Masters, then he did stay at the lightnes of the fooles.
And by chance he espied that fiue of these laughed so inordinatly at the [Page 322] folly of these fooles, that they clapte their hands, they bette their feete, & lost the grauity of Sages by their inordinate laughter, the which was a very vncomely thing in such graue persons: for the honest modesty of the body, is a great witnesse of the wisedome and grauity of the minde: The lightnesse and inconstancy of the Sages seene by the Emperour, and that all the graue Romanes were offended with them, he tooke it heauily, as well to haue brought them thither, as to haue beene deceyued in electing them.
Howbeit with his wisedome then he helped himselfe as much as hee could, in not manifesting any griefe in his heart; but he dissembled, and made as though hee saw them not: For Sage Princes must needes feele things as men, but they ought to dissemble them as discreet.
The Emperour presently would not admonish them, nor before any reproue them, but let the feast passe on, and also a few dayes after, the which being passed, the Emperour spake vnto them in secret, not telling them openly, wherein he shewed him selfe a mercifull Prince: for open correction is vniust, where secret correction may take place.
The things which Marcus Aurelius The wisedome of the Emperour Marcus Aurelius. sayde to those fiue Masters when hee put them out of his house, he himself did write in the third booke, and the first Chapter, vnder the title, Adstultos Pedagogos. And sayde that he saide vnto them these, and such other like words.
CHAP. XXXVI. Of the words which Marcus Aurelius spake to fiue of the foureteene Masters which he had chosen for the Education of his sonne, and how hee sent them from his Pallace for that they behaued themselues lightly at the feast of God Genius.
FRiendes, my will was not to foresee that which cannot The speech of the Emperour to the philosophers. bee excused, nor I will not command you that, which I ought not to commaund: but I desire that the Gods of their grace doe remaine with me, and that with you the same iust gods may goe, and that likewise from mee, and from you, the vnluckie and vnfortunat chances may be withdrawn: For the vnluckie man were better to be with the dead, then remaine here with the liuing. Since that now I had receyued you, and with great diligence sought you, to the end you should bee tutors to my Sonne (the Prince Comodus) I protest to the immortall Gods that I am sorry, and that of your shame I am ashamed, and that of your paine the greatest part is mine. And it can be no otherwise, for in the world there should be no friendshippe so straight, that a man therefore should put his good name in danger.
The Sages that I haue sought, were not prouided onely to learne the Prince Comodus: but also to reform all those that liued euill in my Pallace. And now I see the contrary, for where I thought the fooles should haue beene made wise, I see that those that were wise, are become [Page 323] fooles. Know you not that the fine golde defendeth his purenes among the burning coales? that the man endued with wisdome sheweth himselfe wise, yea in the middest of many How a wiseman is discerned from a foole. fooles? for truly as the golde in the fire is proued, so among the lightnes of fooles, is the wisedome of the wise discerned.
Doe not you know, that the Sage is not knowne among the Sages, nor the foole among the fooles? but among fooles wise men do shine, and that among the sages fooles are darkned: for there the wise sheweth his wisedome, and the foole sheweth his folly. Doe not you know that in the sore wounds the Surgian sheweth his cunning, and that in the dangerous diseases, the Physitian sheweth his science? And that in the doubtfull battels the Captain sheweth his stoutenesse? and that in the boysterous stormes the Master sheweth his experience? So in like maner, the Sage man, in the place where there is great ioy and solace of people, ought to shew his wisedom and discretion. Do not you know that of a moderate witte there proceedeth a cleare vnderstanding, a sharpe memory, a graue person, a quiet minde, a good name, and aboue all, a temperate tongue: for he onely ought to be called wise, who is discreete in his workes, and resolute in his words. Do not you know that it little auayleth to haue the tongue expert, the memory liuely, the vnderstanding cleare to haue great science, to haue profound eloquence, a sweet style, and ample experience, if with all these things you bee as masters, and in your workes as wicked men: certainly it is a great dishonour to a vertuous Emperor that he should haue for masters of yong Princes those which are Schollers of vaine iuglers. Do not you know, that if all the men of this world are bound to leade a good life, that those which presume to haue science, are much more bound then others are, which by their eloquence presume to confound the world? For it is a rule certaine, That alwayes euill workes take away the credite from good words.
And to the end it seeme not vnto you that I speake of fauour, I will here bring into your memory an ancient Law of Rome, the which was made in the time of Cinna, which said An ancient Law among the Romans worthy obseruation. Wee ordaine and commaund, that more grieuous punishment be giuen vnto the Sage for one folly only committed by him openly, then to the simple man for a greater offence committed secretly.
O iust, and very iust law, O iust and happy Romanes, I say vnto all those that together did finde and ordayne the Law: for the simple man slayeth but one man with his sword of wrath; but the sage man killeth many by the euill example of his life: For (according to the saying of the diuine Plato) The Princes and Sage men sinne more by the euill examples which they giue, then in the fault and offence they commit.
All the ancient Writers affirme, that the triumphant Rome neuer beganne to decay, vntill the Senate was replenished with sage serpents, and destitute of simple doues: for in the ende there is nothing that sooner destroyeth Princes, then thinking to haue about them wise men that shold counsell them, when indeed they are malitious, that seeke to deceiue them.
What a thing it was in olde time to see the policie of Rome before that Silla and Marius did alter it, before that Catilina and Catullus did troble What Rome was in ancient time. it, before that Iulius Caesar and Pompeius slaundered it, before that Augustus and Marcus Antonius destroyed it, before that Tiberius and [Page 324] Caligula did defame it, and before that Nero and Domitian did corrupt it? For, the moste parte of these, although they were valiant, and wanne many Realmes: yet notwithstanding the vices which they brought vs, were more then the Realms they wanne vs. And the worste of all is, that all our Kingdomes are lost, and our vices abide still.
If Liuius and the other Hystoriographers doe not deceyue vs, in olde time they might haue seene in the sacred Senate, some Romaines so auncient, with hayres so honorable: others so experte men: others aged, so modest, that it was a wonder to see the majesty they did represent, and a comforte to heare that which they sayde.
I speake not that without teares, which I will say; that instead of those graue & auncient aged persons, there sprang vppe other young bablers; the which are such, and so manie, that all the Common-wealth is altered, and Rome her selfe slaundered.
For that Land is cursed, and with much miserie compassed, where the gouernaunce of the young is so euill, that all wish for the reuiuing of the dead. If wee credite that which the Rome in auncient times [...]iled, the Mother of good workes. auncients wrote, wee cannot denye, but that Rome was the mother of all good workes: as the auncient Greece, was the beginner of all sciences. So that the effect of the Greekes was to speake, and the glorie of the Romaines was to worke. But now, through our wofull destinies, it is all contrary: For Greece hath banished from it all the speakers to Rome, and Rome hath banished from it all the Sages to Greece.
And if it be so (as it is indeed) I had rather be banished to Greece, with the Sages: then to take part with Rome, among the fooles.
By the faith of a Christian I sweare vnto you (my friendes) that I beeing young, saw an Oratour in Rome which was brought vp in the palace of Adrian my Lord, whose name was Aristonocus: of his bodie he was of meane stature, leane of face, and also he was of an vnknowne countrey, but he had such a pleasaunt tongue, that though he had made an oration in the Senate of three hours long, there was no man but willingly were desirous to heare him. For in the olde time, if hee that made an Oration in the Senate were eloquent in his speach, he was hearde no lesse, then if god Apollo had spoken himselfe.
This Phylosopher Aristonocus was on the one parte so gentle in his speech, and on the other part so dissolute in his life: that hee neuer spake worde to the Senate, but it deserued One badde worke marres many good speeches. eternall memorie: and out of that place they neuer sawe him doe good workes, but it merited grieuous punishment. As I haue saide, though in that time I was yong, yet I remember, that to see this phylosopher so lost, all the people did pittie: and the worst of all was, that they neuer hoped for his amendment; since daily more and more, hee lost his honour. For there is no man, that by is Eloquence may haue such renowme, but in the ende hee may lose it againe, by his euill life.
Now I aske you (my Friendes) sith you are in the reputation of Sages, which was better, or to say better, which had beene lesse enuyed? that this Phylosopher had beene a simple man, and of good life, then to bee (as he was) a man of high eloquence, and of euill condition? It was vnpossible, if hee had once hearde of mee that, which many times I haue heard say of him, that he had not counselled me, yea, and further to doe it, he had constrained me, rather to chuse the graue, then to liue in Rome with infamie. For he is vnworthie to liue amongst men, whose words of all are approued, and [Page 325] his workes of all condemned.
The first Dictator in Rome was Largius, and the first Lord of the knights, was Spurius. And from the time of the first Dictatour, vntill the time of Sylla & Iulius (which were the first tyrants) were foure hundred and fiftie yeares: in the which space, we neuer read that any philosopher spake any vain words nor yet committed any sclaunderous deedes. And if Rome had done any otherwise, it had bin vnworthie of such praise and estimation as it had: for it What is required in a sage Phylosopher. is vnpossible that the people bee well gouerned, if the Sages which gouern them, are in their liues dissolute.
I protest to the immortall Gods, and sweare by the faith of a Christian, that whē I consider that which at this present with mine eyes I see: I cānot but sigh for that is past, and weep for that which is present. That is to say, to see then how the Armyes fought: to see how the young men trauelled to bee good: to see how well Princes gouerned: to see the obedience of the people: and aboue all, it was a maruellous thing to see the liberties and fauours which the sages had: & the subjection & small estimation, that the simple people were in. And now by our euill fortune, we see the cōtrary in these our wofull times: so that I cannot tel, whether first I should bewaile the vertues and Noblenesse of them that are past, or the vices and infamies of these which are present. For, wee neuer ought to cease from praising the goodnes of the good: nor to cease from reprouing the wickednes of the euill.
Oh that I had been in that glorious world, to see so honorable and auncient Sages, to gouerne in pleasure: and for the contrary, what griefe and pittie, shame, and dishonour is it, to see now so many dissolute Sages, and so many young and busie heads, the which (as I haue saide) doe destroy all Rome, and slaunder all Italie, and dishonor themselues? For the want of vertue which in them aboundeth, and endamageth the Common-wealth: and as the other vices wherewith they are replenished, corrupteth the people in such sorte, that the weale publique is more dishonored through the dissolute life of them, then it is anoyed by the weapons Whē Rome flourished in vertue. of their enemyes. I say againe, and repeate my friends, that the prosperitie of Rome endured 400. and xv. yeares: in the which time there was a great maiesty of works, and a maruellous simplicitie of words: and aboue all, that the best that it had, was, that it was rich of the good and vertuous men, and poore of euill and vicious loyterers.
For in the ende, that Citie cannot be called prosperous, which hath in it manie people: but onely that which hath in it fewe vices.
Speaking therefore more particularly, the cause that moued mee to put you from mee is, because in the day of the great feast of the god Genius, you shewed (in the presence of the Senate) your little wisedome, and your great follie: For so much as all men did behold more the lightnes of your person, then they did the follyes of the jugglers.
If perchaunce you shewed your follie, to the intent men should thinke that you were familiar in my Royall Pallace, I tell you, that the errour of your thought was no lesse then the euill What moued the Emperour to put away the Phylosophers. example of your worke: For no man ought to be so familiar with princes, but (whether it be in sporte or in earnest) he ought to do him reuerēce.
Since I gaue you leaue to departe, I knowe you had rather haue to helpe you in your journey a litle money, thē many counsells: But I will giue you both, that is to say, money for to bring you to your journeys end, & also coū cels, to the end ye may liue: and maruel not that I giue coūcel to them that [Page 326] haue an office to counsell others, for it chanceth oft times that the Physitian doth cure the diseases of others, and yet indeed he knoweth not his owne.
Let therefore the last word and counsell bee, when you shall bee in the seruices of Princes and great Lords, that first you labour to be coū ted honest rather then wise. That they doe chuse you rather for quiet men, then for busie heades, and more for your few wordes then for your much The counsell of the Emperour babling: for in the pallace of Princes, if the wise man be no more then wise it is a great happe if hee bee much esteemed, but if he an honest man, hee is beloued, and well taken of all.
CHAP. XXXVII. That Princes and other noble men ought to ouersee the Tutours of their Children, lest they conceale the secrete faults of their Schollers.
WEe haue before rehearsed what conditions, what age, and what grauitie Masters ought to haue, which should bring vp the children of princes. Now reason would we should declare, what the counsels should bee that princes should giue to the Masters and Tutors of their children, before they ought to giue them any charge. And after that it is meete wee declare, what the counsell shall be which the Master shall giue to his Disciple, hauing the gouernment of him.
For it is vnpossible there should happen any misfortune, where ripe counsell is euer present. It shall seeme vnto those that shall profoundly consider this matter, that it is a superfluous thing to treate of these thinges: for eyther princes chuse the good, or els they chuse the euill. If they chuse not good masters, they labour in vain to giue them good counsell: for the What is required in good Tutors. foolish master is lesse capable of coū sell then the dissolute scholler is of wholesome admonition. If perchance princes doe make elections of good Masters, then those Masters both for themselues, and also for others ought to minister good counsels. For to giue counsell to the wise man, it is eyther a superfluous deed, or else it cō meth of a presumptuous man. Though it be true, that hee which dare giue counsell to the Sage man is presumptuous, I say in like manner, that the Diamond beeing set in gold, loseth not his vertue, but rather increaseth in price and value: I meane, that the wiser a man is, so much the more hee ought to desire to know the opinion of another; certainely, he that doth so, cannot erre: For to none his owne counsell aboundeth so much, but that hee needeth the counsel and opinion of another.
Though Princes and great Lords do see with their eyes, that they haue chosē good masters & tutors to teach their children, yet they ought not therefore to be so negligent of themselues, but that sometimes they may giue the masters counsell: for it may be, that the masters be both noble & stout, that they be ancient, sage, and moderate: but it may be also, that in teaching childrē they are not expert: For to masters and tutors of princes, it is not so much necessary that sciences do abound, as it is shame that experience should want. When a rich man letteth out his farme or manor, to a farmor, he doth not onely consider with himselfe before what rent hee shall pay him, but also he couenanteth with him that he shal keepe his grounds well fenced and ditched, and his houses well repayred. [Page 327] And not contented to receyue the third part of the fruit of his vine: but also he goeth twice or thrice in a year to visite it: And in seeing it hee hath reason, for in the end the one occupieth the goods as a Tenant, and the other doth view the ground as chiefe Lord. Then if the father of the family with so great diligence doth recommend the trees, and the ground to the Labourer: how much more ought the Father to recommend his children to the Masters: for the father giuing counsell to the Master is no other, but to deliuer his child to the Treasurer of Science.
Princes and great Lords cannot excuse themselues of an offence, if after that they haue chosen a knight or Gentleman for to be Master, or els a learned and wise man to be tutour, they are so negligent as if they neuer had had children, or did remember that their children ought to be theyr Heires: certainely this thing should not bee so lightly passed ouer. But as a wise man (which is carefull of the honour and profite of his child) hee ought to bee occupied, as well in taking heed to the master, as the master ought to be occupied, in taking heede to the child: For the good fathers ought to know, whether the master that he hath chosen can commaund, and whether his child will obey.
One of the noblest Princes among the Ancients, was Seuleucus, King of the Assyrians, and husband of Estrabonica (the daughter of Demetrius, King of Macedony) a Lady for her beauty in all Greece the most renowned of her fame, though indeed she was not very fortunate. This is an old disease, that hapneth alwayes to beutiful women, that there be many that desire them, and more that slaunder them. This King Seuleucus was first married with another woman, of whome hee had a sonne called Antigonus, 'the which was in loue with the second wife of his Father, that is to say, with the Queene Estrabonica, and was almost dead for loue. The which the father vnderstanding, married his son with her: so that she that was his stepmother, was his wife; and shee that was a faire wife, was a faire daughter, and hee which was his Sonne, was made his sonne in law, and hee which was Father, was stepfather.
The Authour hereof is Plutarch in his liues, as Sextus Cheronensis sayeth, in the thirde booke of the sayings of the Greekes.
The king Seuleucus laboured diligently to bring vp his sonne Antigonus wel, wherfore he sought him two notable masters: the one a Greeke, the other a Latine. The K: Seuleucus herewith not contented, prouided secretly (by the means of a seruant of his named Parthemius) that he should haue no other office in the Pallace, but that what the masters taught or did to his sonne Antigonus in the day, hee should secretly come, and tell him in the night.
But by the diligence of Parthemius, it came to the knowledge of the Tutors, that they had ouer-seers: for in the ende there is nothing accustomablie, but at the last will bee reuealed.
Since the two Phylosophers knew the secret, one day they saide vnto the The Phylosophers speeche to K. Seleucus. King Seuleucus these wordes:
Most mighty Prince Seuleucus, since thou hast of trust committed thy Sonne Antigonus into our handes, why doest thou appointe thy Seruaunt Parthemius as accuser of our liues? If thou accountest vs euill, and him good, thou shalt shewe vs great fauour, if thou wilt discharge vs, and committe to him the [...]u [...] tion of thy Sonne? For wee let thee to knowe, that to men of honour it is vntollerable euill to shame them, and no dishonour to licence them. Thou hast appointed Parthemius, to goe and dog vs, to see [Page 328] what we do, or say openly, and afterwards to make relation vnto thee secretly: And the worst is, that by relation of the simple, wee should be condemned, beeing Sages: For triacle is not so contrary to poyson, as ignoraunce is to wisedome. And truely (most Noble Prince) it is a great matter, that daily inquisition is made of man: for there is no Beard so bare shauen, but it wil growe againe.
I meane, that there is no man of so honest a life, but if a man make inquisition, he may finde wherewithall to detect.
The K: Seuleucus answered them thus. Consider my Friendes, that I knowe right well, that neyther the authoritie of the person, nor the good credite of renowme would bee stayned for any other Friende in this world: and if the rude men doe it not, much lesse ought the Sages to doe it. King Seuleucus his answer. For there is nothing that men trauell for so much in this life, as to leaue of them a good renowme after theyr death. Since you are Sages, and Maisters of my Sonne, and likewise counsellers of my house, it is not meete that you should with any bee offended: For by all good reason hee alone ought to bee esteemed in the Pallaces of Princes, that will giue vnto Princes good counsell.
That which I haue saide to Parthemius, was not for the doubt of your faith, neyther to thinke any daunger in your authoritie. And if the thing be well considered, it goeth well for you, and not euill for me: and the reason hereof is, that eyther you are good, or else you are euill: If you be good, you ought to be glad that daily your good seruices be reported vnto mee,
For the continual beating into the Princes eares of the good seruices of his Seruants, must needes cause at the last theyr good seruices to be well rewarded.
If you bee euill, and in teaching my Sonne negligent: it is but reason that I bee thereof aduertised. For if the Father be deceyued in his opinion, the Sonne shal receiue poyson in his doctrine, and also because you shall not vndoe my Realme, nor slaunder mee by your euill councell.
If the fatall Destinies permitte that my Sonne be euill: I am hee that loseth most therby; for my Realme shall be destroyed, and my renowne vtterly abolished, and in the ende, my Sonne shall not enioy the Heritage. And if all passe so, you will care little: For you will say you are not in fault since the childe would not receiue your doctrine, Wherefore mee thinkes it not euill done to ouer-see you, as you ouersee him: For my duety is to see that you be good, and your duety is to trauell, that your Disciples be not euill.
This King Seuleucus, was an honourable man, and died aged (as Plutarche saieth, and Patroclus more plainely declareth, in the third book of the warre of the Assyrians) and for the contrarie his sonne Antigonus, came to be a wicked prince in all his doings.
And this a man may well perceiue, that if he had not been of his Father so much corrected, and of the Schoolmaisters so well instructed: without doubt hee would haue proued much more wicked then he was. For young men on the one parte beeing euill inclined, and on the other parte euill taught, it is vnpossible but in the end they should grow to be most vicious, and defamed.
In my opinion, though children be What profit cometh to children by good counsell. not euil inclined, yet the fathers thereof ought not to cease to corect them: for in time to come those that write, will commend the diligence of the fathers, in correcting the vices of their children.
I haue declared this example, to counsel that the Father be not so negligent, that he should vtterly forget to looke vnto his Sonne, thinking that now the Maister hath charge of him. And of my counsell, that Father ought in this thing to bee so aduertised, that if at the first hee behelde the Childe with two Eyes: that then he should looke vnto him with sower eyes. For [Page 229] oft times it is more requisite that the Masters be punished then the Schollers. Though Princes are not dayly enformed of the life of the Masters as King Seleucus was: yet at the least ofttimes they ought to enquire of the state, of the life, and of the behauior both of the Masters, and also of the children.
And this thing they ought not to doe onely once, but also they ought to call the Masters, and counsel them likewise, that they haue great respect to the doctrine of their children, thinking alwayes to giue them good counsell, to shew vnto their Schollers afterwards: for otherwise the master immediately is discouraged, when hee seeth the Father to be negligent, and nothing carefull for the bringing vp of his children.
Princes in one thing ought to haue great respect (that is to say) least the Masters beare with the secret vices Tutors ought not to beare with the vices of theyr schollers. of children. And he ought not to doe thus, but also to call them vnto him, to aduise them, to warne them, to pray them, to counsell and commaund them, that they haue great respect to the bringing vp of his children: and further, that he giue them some notable counsell, to the entent that the Masters afterward may make relation thereof to their schollers: for there is no man so weake, nor child so tender, but the force which hee hath to bee vicious, is enough (if hee will) to be vertuous.
I would now demaund the Masters and Tutors which doe gouerne the children of noble and vertuous men, what more strength is required to be a glutton then to be a sobermā? to be a babler, or to be silent? to be diligent, or to be negligent? to be honest, then to be dissolute? and as of these few I speake, so I could recite many others. In this case I will not speake as a man of science, but as one of experience: and that is, that by the faith of a Christian I sweare, that with lesse trauell of the Master, and more profite of the scholler, hee may bee sooner vertuous then vicious. For there is no more courage required in one to be euill, then strength in an other for to be good,
Also the Masters commonly haue an other euill property, worse then this, which is, they beare with theyr Schollers in some secret vices when they are young, from the which they cannot bee withdrawne afterwards when they are olde. For it chanceth oft times that the good inclination Custome in sinning is hardly to be reclaimed. is ouercome by euill custome: and certainely the Masters, which in such a case should be apprehended, ought to bee punished as Traytors periured. For to the Master it is greater treason, to leaue his Disciple among vices, then to deliuer a Fort into the hands of the enemies. And let no man maruell, if I call such a Master a Traytor, for the one yeeldeth the Fort which is but of stones builded: but the other aduentureth his sonne, who is of his proper body begotten.
The cause of all this euill is, that as the children of Princes ought to enherite Realmes, and the children of great Lords hope to enherite the great estates: so the Masters are more couetous then vertuous. For they suffer their puples to runne at their owne wils when they be young, to the end to winne their harts when they shall be old: so that the extreme couetousnesse of the Masters now a dayes is such, that it causeth good mens sonnes commonly to bee euill and vicious. O Tutors of princes, Schoolemasters ought not to bee couetous. and Masters of great Lords, I doe admonish you, and besides that I counsell you, that your couetousnes deceiue you not, thinking you shalbe better esteemed for being clokers of [Page 330] vices, then louers of vertues. For, there is none (olde or young) so wicked, but knoweth that good is better then euill.
And further, I may say to you in this case, that oft times God permitteth, (when those that were children become olde) their eyes to be opened, whereby they knowe the harme that you haue don them, in suffering them to be vicious in their youth: at what time your duty had been to haue corrected theyr vices.
You thought (as it should seeme) by your goods to be honoured for your flatterie: but you finde the contrary, that you are despised worthily. For it is the iust iudgement of GOD, that hee that committeth euill, shall not escape without punishment: and hee that concealeth the euill committed, shall not liue vndefamed.
Diadumius the Hystoriographer, in the life of Seuerus the xxj. Emperour, declareth; that Apuleius Rufinus, who had beene Consull twice, and at that time was also Tribune of the people (a man who was very aged, and likewise of great authoritie throughout Rome) came one day to the Emperour Seuerus, and saide vnto him in this sort;
Most inuict Prince, alwayes (Augustus,) knowe that I had two children, the The complaint of Apuleius Rufynus to the Emperour Seuerus. which I committed to a Maister, to bring vp: and by chaunce the oldest increasing in yeares, and diminishing in vertues, fell in loue with a Romaine Ladie, the which loue came too late to my knowledge: For to such vnfortunate men as I am, the disease is alwayes past remedie, before the daunger thereof commeth to our knowledge.
The greatest griefe that herein I feele, is, that his Maister knewe and concealed the euill, and was not onely not a meanes to remedie it: but also was the chiefe worker of Adultery betweene them to be committed. And my Sonne made him an obligation, wherein he bound himselfe, if he brought him that Romaine Ladie, hee would giue him (after my death) the house and Heritages, which I haue in the gate Salaria, and yet heerewith not contented, but he and my Sonne together, robbed me of much money. For loue is costly to him that maintaineth it, and alwayes the loues of the Children, are chargeable to the Fathers. Iudge you now therefore, Noble Prince, this so haynous and slaunderous cause: For it is too much presumption of the subiect to reuenge any iniurie, knowing that the Lorde himselfe will reuenge all wrongs.
When the Emperour Seuerus had vnderstood this so heynous a case: as one that was both in name and deede seuere, commaunded good inquisition of the matter to be had: and that before his presence they should cause to appeare, the Father, the Sonne, and the Maister, to the ende eache one should alledge for his own right: For in Rome none could bee condemned for any offence, vnlesse the plaintife had first declared the fault before his presence, and that the accused should haue no time to make his excuse.
The truth and certaintie (vpon due examination then knowne,) and the Offenders confessing the offences, the Emperor Seuerus gaue iudgmēt thus. I commaund that this Maister be cast The sentēce of the Emp: Seuerus. aliue among the beastes of the parke Palatine.
For it is but meete that Beastes deuoure him, which teacheth others to liue like beasts: Also I do command, that the Sonne be vtterly disinherited of all the goods of his Father, and banished the Countrey, into the Isles of Baleares and Maiorques.
For the Childe which from his youth is vicious, ought iustly to be banished the Countrey, and be disinherited of his Fathers goods.
This therefore (of the Maister, and the Sonne,) was done by the complainte of Apuleius Rufynus.
[Page 331] O how vnconstant fortune is, and how oft, not thinking of it, the thred of life doth breake. I say it, because if this Master had not beene couetous, the Father had not been depriued What euil followed covetousnesse. of his sonne, the childe had not beene banished, the mother had not beene defamed, the common weale had not beene slaundered, the master of wilde beasts had not been deuoured, neyther the Emperour had been so cruell against them, nor yet theyr names in Histories, to their infamies, had alwayes continued,
I doe not speake this without a cause, to declare by writing that which the euill doe in the World: for wisemen ought more to feare the infamy of the little pen, then the slander of the babling tongue. For in the end, the wicked tongue cannot defame but the liuing: but the little penne doth defame them that are, that were, and that shall be.
To conclude this, my minde is, that the Master should endeuour himselfe that his Scholler should bee vertuous, and that hee doe not despayre, though immediately for his paines hee bee not rewarded.
For though hee bee not of the creature, let him bee assured that hee shall be of the Creator. For God is so mercifull, that hee often times taking pitty of the swette of those that bee good, chasteneth the vnthankefull, and taketh vpon him to require their seruices.
CHAP. XXXVIII. Of the determination of the Emperour, when he committed his childe to the Tutors, which hee had prouided for his education.
CInna the Historian in the first booke of the times of Comodus declareth that Marcus Aurelius the Emperour chose foureteene Masters learned and wise men, to teach his son Comodus, of the which he refused fiue, not for that they were not wise, but for that they were not honest. And so hee kept these nine onely which were both learned in the Sciences, and also expert in bringing vp the children of the Senators, though indeed they were very vnluckie in the bringing vp of the Prince Comodus: for this cursed Prince had nine Masters which instructed him, but hee had aboue nine thousand vices wich vndid him.
The Emperour Marcus Aurelius made fiue books of declamations, and in the third booke the 6. Chapter vnder the title Adsapientes Pedagogos, hee brought in these nine Masters, and perswaded them greatly that they should bee diligent and attentiue to teach his sonne Comodus. And in this matter hee spake vnto them many and graue sentences, the words whereof do follow.
The matter is manifest in Rome, The speech of the Emperour to the nine Masters of his sonne Comodus. and no lesse published thorow out all Italy, what paines I tooke to search out so many Sages to instruct my sonne Comodus: the which all being examined, I kept onely the wisest and the best, and though in very deed, I haue done much, yet I haue not done [Page 933] so much as I am bound.
For Princes in doubtfull matters ought not onely to demaund counsell of all the good that be aliue: but also to take paine to talke with those which are dead. That is, to reade the deedes of the good in their writings: You were foureteene masters chosen, whereof I haue put out fiue: so that presently you are but nine, & if indeede you bee Wise men, you shall not bee offended with that I haue done: for the griefe of euill things proceedeth of wisdome, but the admiration of good things commeth of small experience. I doe not deny, but the wise men doe feele in them passions as men: but in the end, there is no arte nor science that doth excuse vs from the miseries of men.
But that whereat I maruell is, how it is possible that a wise man should maruell at any thing in this world: For if the wise man should be astonied at euery thing of the world, it appeareth that there is little constancy or vertue in him at all.
Returning therefore to our particular talke, I haue taken you to bee masters of my sonne, and you see, of many I chose a few, to the end that with few my sonne should be taught: For as it is the Fathers duty to search out good masters; so it is the masters duty to be diligent about his Scholler.
The Nurse of my sonne Comodus gaue him sucke two yeares with her teates, at the gate of Hostia, and his mother Faustine other two yeares brought him vp wantonly in Capua. Howbeit this was a sufficient excuse, I would as a pittiful father (if I could) giue him correction at the least this twenty yeares: For I sweare by the immortall gods, that to a Prince that shall bee an enheritor, one yeeres punishment is more worth then twentie yeares of vaine pleasure.
Since the Nurses which giueth the Children sucke knoweth little: and since the Mothers that bare them, doe loue them much, and since the childe peraduenture (as yet) is but of a weake vnderstanding, they are occupyed about the thinges that are present: considering that chastisemēt is much more better for him, then pleasure. But the wise man which hath vnderstanding ought to thinke of that, that The duty of euery good Father to prouide good instructors for their children. is past, and by much wisdome to prouide for that which is to come: For he cannot be counted wise, tha [...] [...]ely in one thing is carefull. [...] Comodus was borne the last [...] of August, in a Cittie by Danuby. [...] shall not forget the day that the Gods gaue him vnto me: nor yet this day in the which I commit him vnto you.
Of greater reason I should remember that day wherein I put him to be taught: then the day which I saw him to be borne. For the Gods gaue him mee, as I gaue him to you mortall, since hee is a man: but you shall restore him againe vnto me; and I likewise him to the Gods, as immortall, if hee be wise.
What will you I say more vnto you, but if you regarde that any thing at all which I say, you will regarde much more this, which I will say. When the Gods determined that I should haue a childe of my wife, and that my woful destenies deserued, that I shold haue such a childe, truely the Gods made me a man in the spirite: and I begote him a beast, among the beasts in the flesh. But if you will, you may make him a God among the Gods, by science. For Princes winne infamie, for being fierce and selfe willed: but they get good renowne, for beeing wise and pacient. I would you should applie this businesse well, and therefore it is necessarie that you examine him oft. For it is a generall rule, that [Page 341] the pretious iewell is little regarded, when hee which hath it knoweth not the value thereof.
I require, that you answere mee in this one thing. What did I giue vnto my sonne Comodus, when the Gods gaue him mee, but fraile and mortall flesh? by the corruption, whereof his life shall end: but you shall giue him high doctrine, whereby hee shall alwayes deserue perpetuall memory: For the good renowne is not gotten by that the weake flesh doth, but by that the high vnderstanding imagineth, and by that the curious hart executeth. O if this tender age knew what I gaue to his weake flesh, and if Good tutors compared to naturall Fathers. his dull vnderstanding could come to the true wisedome which you may giue him: he would call you his right fathers, and mee but his steppe father: For he is the true Father that giueth vs doctrine to liue: and hee is but an vniust stepfather that giueth vs flesh to die.
Certainely, the naturall Fathers of children, are but their owne open enemies, and cruell stepfathers; since we giue them such dull vnderstanding, so weake a memory, a will so froward, life so short, flesh so frayle, honour so costly, health so vncertain, riches so troublesome, prosperitie so scarce, and death so fearefull. Finally, wee giue them a Nature subiect to infinite alterations, and great misfortunes.
Reason would not you should little regarde that which I commit vnto your iudgement, that is to say, that you haue the charge of Comodus my sonne: For the thing that Princes ought chiefly to foresee, is to whome they ought to recommend the gouernement of their children.
To bee a Master and Tutour of a Prince in the earth, is to haue an office of the Gods which are in heauen: because hee gouerneth him that ought to gouerne vs: he teacheth him that ought to teach vs, hee chastneth him that ought to chasten vs. Finally, hee commaundeth one, that ought to command all.
What will you that I say more vnto you. Truely, hee that hath What is required in a good instructor of children. the charge to teach the children of Princes and great Lords, is as the Gouernour of the shippe, Standard of a Battell, a defence of the peovle, a guide of the Wayes, a father of the Orphanes, the hope of Pupils, and a Treasurer of all: For there is no other true Treasure in the Common wealth, but the prince which doth maintaine and keepe it in good peace, and perfect iustice.
I will tell you furthermore, to the end you shall esteeme it more, that when I doe giue you my sonne to teach, I giue you more then if I gaue you all the riches of the Realme. For in him that hath the reformation of the Childes life, dependeth the fame of the Father after that hee is dead.
So that the Father hath no greater renowme, then to see his Childe leade an honest life. I pray the gods that they may bee so mercifull, and the fatal destinies so fortunate, that if till this time you haue watched to teach the children of others, that frō hence forward you watch to teach this my sonne Comodus, which I trust shall be to the comfort of all.
For the thing which is vniuersally good to all, ought for to bee preferred before that which tendeth but to the profite and commodity of some. You see my friends, that there is a greate difference to teach the children of Princes, and to teach the children of the people, and the cause hereof is, the greatest part of those come to schooles & vniuersities [Page 342] to learne to speake, but I do not giue Difference betweene the Teachers of Princes children & others. you my sonne Comodus, to the end you should teach him to speake many words, but that you should learne him to doe good works.
For all the glory of the Princes is, that in the workes which he doth, he be vpright, and in the words that hee speaketh he be very discreet. After that the children haue spent many yeares in Schooles, after their fathers haue spent much money vpon them if perchance the child can dispute in Greeke or Latine any thing at all, though hee bee light and vicious, the Father thinketh his goods well imployed: for in Rome, now a dayes they esteeme an Orator more, which can nought but babble, then a Philosopher which is vertuous.
O wofull men, that now liue in Rome, and much more wofull shall those be, which hereafter shall succeede: for Rome is no more that Rome, which it was wont to be, that is to say, that the Fathers in olde time sent their children to Schooles and studies to learne them to bee silent: and now they send them to learne to speake too much.
They learned them then to bee sage and temperate: and now they learne them to bee dissolute. And the worst of all is, that the Schooles where the sage and patient were wont to be, and from whence issued the good and vertuous workes, are now ful of babling Orators, and none issue out from thence at this present, but the euill and vitious. So that if the sacred Romane lawes are exalted once in a weeke with their tongs: they are broken ten times in the day, in their works.
What will you I say more, since I cannot tell you any thing (without hurting my mother Rome) but that at this present all the pleasures of vaine men, is to see their children ouercome others by disputing: but I let you vnderstand that all my glory shall bee, when my sonne shall surmount others, not in words, but in What is required in a Scholler. silence, not to be troublesome, but to bee patient: not in speaking subtill words, but in doing vertuous works. For the glory of good men is in working much, and speaking little. Consider my friends, and doe not forget it, that this day I commit my honor vnto you, I put into your hands the estate of Comodus my sonne, the glory of Rome, the rest of the people, which are my subiects, the gouernement of Italie, which is our Country, and aboue all, I referre vnto your discretion, the peace and tranquility of the whole common wealth.
Therefore hee that hath such a charge, by reason ought not to sleep: for as the wise men say, To great trust is required much diligence. I will say no more, but that I would my sonne Comodus should be so wel taught, that he should haue the feare of God, & the science of Philosophers, the vertues of the ancient Romanes, the approued counsell of the aged, the courage of the Romane youth, the constancy of you, which are his Masters.
Finally, I would, that of all the good, he should take the good, as of me hee ought to take the heritage & succession of the Empire; For hee is the true prince, and worthy of the Empire, that with his eyes doth behold the great Signiories he ought to inherite, and doth employ his heart how to gouerne it, whereby hee shall liue to the great profite of the Common wealth.
And I protest to the immortall Gods, with whom I hope to goe, and to the goodnesse of my predecessors whose faith I am bound to keepe. I protest to the Romane lawes, the which I did sweare to obserue in the [Page 343] conquest of Asia, wherein I am bound my selfe to continue, and to the friendshippe of the Rhodians, the which I haue offered my selfe for to keepe, to the enmitie of the Affricanes, the which not for me, but for the oath of my predecessors, I bound my selfe to maintaine. And I protest vnto the vessell of the high Capitoll, where my bones ought to bee burnt, that Rome doe not complaine of mee, beeing aliue, nor that The earefulnes of the Emperour for the Commonwealth. in the world to come shee curse mee after my death.
If perchance the prince Comodus my sonne (by his wicked life) should bee occasion of the losse or hinderance of the Common-Wealth.
And though you which are his Masters vndoe it, for not giuing him due punishment, and hee thorow his wicked gouernement destroy it, yet I discharge my selfe by all these protestations that I haue made, which shall bee witnesses of my will.
For the Father is bound no more towardes his Childe, but to banish him from his pleasures, and to giue him vertuous Masters. And if hee bee good, hee shall bee the glory of the Father, the honour of himselfe, the wealth of you, and the profite and commodity of the whole Common wealth.
CHAP. XXXIX. The Tutors of Princes and Noble mens children ought to be very circumspect that their Schollers doe not accustome themselues in vices whiles they are young, and specially they must keepe them from foure vices,
THe good and expert Surgeons vnto great daungerous wounds, doe not onely apply medicins and ointments which do resolue and stoppe: but also minister other good playsters for to restraine and heale them. And verily they shew themselues in the one no lesse sage, then in the other expert: for as great diligence ought to bee had to preserue the weake flesh, & to purge the rotten wound, to the end it may be healed: so likewise the wise Trauellers learne diligently the way before they take vpon them any iourney; that is to say, if there bee any dangers in the way, eyther of robbing or slaying, wherein there is any by-path that goeth out of the highway.
Truly, hee that in this point is circumspect, is worthy to bee counted a Sage mam: for according to the multitude of the perilles of the world, none can be assured, vnlesse hee know first where the daunger is, wherein hee may fall. To shew therfore that which by these parables I meane, I say, that the Tutours and Master of Princes and great Lordes, ought not to bee contented onely to know what science, what doctrine, and what vertue they ought to shew, and teach their Schollers: but also with greater care and diligence they [Page 344] ought to know from what euilles or wicked customes they ought to withdraw them: For when the trees are Children in their youth apt to entertain all vices. tender and young, it is more necessary to bow them, and cut off the superfluous branches with kniues, then to gather their fruits with baskets.
Those which take vpon them to gouerne Moyles of great price and value, and those that tame & breake horses of a good race, take great paines that such beasts be light, that they leape well, and be well made to the spurre and bridle: but they take much more paines that they be gentle, familiar and faithfull; and aboue all, that they haue no euill qualities. Then sith it is so, Masters ought diligently to watch (if they bee good) that in young Princes there be no apparance of any notable vices: for the vertues which the young doe learn, doth not them so much profite, as one onely vice doth them hurt, if they doe thereunto consent, knowing that thereby they may bee hereafter blamed or despised: For if any man knew a beast that is wilde and stubborne, and not gentle, and will buye him at a great price: such a one hath his head more full of follies then of wisedome.
Albeit that Masters ought to withdraw their Schollers from many euill customes, amongst all there are foure principals, in any of the which, if the Prince bee defamed, the master which hath taught him should deserue great punishment: For according to the humane Lawes and Customes, all the damage and harme, that the beasts doe to the vineyarde the keeper that hath charge thereof, shall (as he is bound) recompence.
First, the Master ought to reform in such sort the tongus of their schollers, that neyther in sport nor in earnest, they permit them to tell lyes: for the greatest fault that is in a good and vertuous man, is to bee briefe in the truth, and the greatest villany, that is in a vicious man, is to bee long in lyes. Merula in that 5. booke of Caesars What is required in the master towards his Schollers. sayeth, that the first warre that Vlpius Traianus made, was against the Romanes, and with no small victory ouercame the Emperour Domitian in a battell which they fought together: for as Nafica sayde, the pleasures that Rome had to see many victories were not so great: as the displeasure was which she tooke, to see her selfe once ouercome.
The good Vlpius Traianus gaue battell to king Cebalus, wherein Cebalus was not onely ouercome, but also taken, and afterwardes brought before the Emperor Traianus, which sayde vnto him these words. Speake Cebalus, Why diddest thou rebell against the Romaines, since thou knowest that the Romanes are inuincible: King Cebalus answered him, If the Romans could not bee ouercome, how then did I ouercome the Emperour Domitian?
Traian the Emperour sayde vnto him againe: Thou art greatly deceyued (King Cebalus) to thinke that when thou ouercamest the Emperor, thou hadst ouercome the Romanes: For when that Romulus founded Rome, the Gods ordained, that though their Emperour dyed in any battell, yet notwithstanding it is not to bee thought, that the Empire is ouercome.
The Historiographers made a great matter of the words that this Vlpius Traianus spake: for therin he shewed, that the Rom: Empire was invincible.
After that this King Cebalus was dead, and that (for his deserts) hee was depriued: as the Emperour Traian was a mercifull Prince, so hee prouided that a little child that Cebalus had, should bee brought vp in his Palace, with intention, that if the Child became good, they would giue him the Realme which his Father, [Page 345] (through treason) had lost.
For in Rome there was an auncient Law, that all which the Father lost, by reason the sonne should recouer by his faithfull acts An ancient Law in Rome..
It chaunced that the good Traian taking his pleasure in the garden of Vulcan, saw the sonne of King Cebalus and many other young children of Rome, stealing fruit foorth of an Orchard; and it is no wonder, for the Locustes did not so much harme to the corne, as the children do to the fruites, when they enter into the Orchards.
When the Emperour afterwardes demaunded him from whence hee came? hee answered, from his study hearing Rethorike, but indeed hee came from stealing of fruit. The Emperour Traian was so angry and displeased that the child was a lyer, that he commanded he should vtterly be depriued and made voide of all hope, to recouer the Realme of his Father.
The Emperour Traian was greatly importuned, as wel of strange Ambassadours, as of his owne countrimen that he would change that cruell sentence, For Princes in a fury doe commaund that, which when they are patient they doe vndo. The A cruell sentence vpon a lyer. Emperour Traian answered them, if the Father of this child which was King Cebalus had been a true Prince, he had not lost his life, neyther his Realme, nor had not put mee, and the Empire so many times in daunger: but since the Father was a lyer, and the sonne is not true, it were too vniust a thing to render him the Realme. For to me it should be great reproach, and to our mother Rome, as much dishonour, that shee being the mother of truth, should giue Realmes to children beeing lyers,
This was it that Vlpius Traian spake vnto the sonne of King Cebalus. Marcus Aurelius the 17. Emperour of Rome had two sonnes, as before we haue rehearsed, the eldest of the which was called Comodus, and his father procured greatly to dishen herite him of the Empire: for hee would that the second sonne named Verissimus should haue enherited it: and hee did not onely determine it, but also spake it oft times openly: For that thing is with great difficulty dissembled, that excessiuely is beloued.
By chance an olde Senator, and friend of Marcus Aurelius the Emperour one day, both going out of the Senate house, sayde vnto him: I maruell at thee, most Excellent Prince Why thou doest dishenherite thy sonne The speech of a Senator to the Emperour. which is eldest, to make thine Heyre the youngest, knowing that they are both thy sonnes, and that the gods haue giuen thee no other but them: For the good Fathers are bound to chasten their children but they haue not licence to dishenherite them.
The Emperour Marcus Aurelius answered him, If thou wert a Greeke Philosopher, as thou ort a Romane Citizen, and if thou knowest tke fathers The Emperours answere. loue towards the child, thou wouldest not take pitty on my sonne which vndoeth the Empire: but thou shouldest haue compassion on me his Father, which doth dishenherite him: For the child scarcely knoweth what hee looseth, but I that am his Father doe bewayle the dammage which I doe vnto him. For in the end, there is not in the world so cruell a Father, but if his sonne should bee hurt with the pomell of the sword in the hand, the Father would feele (incontinently) the dent of his blade at his heart.
In this case I sweare vnto thee by the immortall Gods, that I do that which I would not doe: and I take that from him which I would not take, For Anthonius my Lord, and Father in law, [Page 346] gaue mee the Empire for no other cause, but because hee neuer found in mee any lye: and for this occasion I doe depriue my sonne from it, for that I neuer found in him any truth. For it is not meete that the Empire beeing giuen vnto me for that I was true: should bee left in heritage to him that is a lyer: For in the ende it is better that the sonne doe loose the heritage, then the father should loose his renowne.
By these two examples, those How carefull masters ought to be to refraine their schollers from lying and gaming. which are the tutors and masters of Princes and great Lordes may see, how to bee diligent to keepe them from lyes, whilest they are yong, and it ought to be in such sort, that neyther in pastime, neyther in earnest answering they should bee suffered to tell a lye: For those that for their pleasures were accustomed to lye in their youth, will not fayle for their profite to lye in their age.
Secondarily, the Tutours and Masters ought to keepe their Disciples, that they bee no gamesters, & that they doe not accustome themselues in their youth to bee vnthrifts: for it is a great token of the decay of the Empire, when the Prince in his youth is affectionated to play.
Experience sheweth vs, that to play is a vice, as Seneca saieth, which hath the property of a raging dogge: with whom if a man bee once bitten, (vnlesse hee hath present remedie) forthwith he runneth mad, and the disease also continueth with him vncurable vntill the houre of his death:
Players not without a cause are compared to madde dogges: for al those that vse it, hurt their conscience, loose their honour, and consume their substance.
It chaunceth oft that in that wherein Masters should bee most circumspect, they for the most part, are most negligent: that is to say, that vnder the colour of some honest recreation, they agree to their Schollers to vse some pastime, which if therein bee contained no commendable exercise, the children ought not to vse it, nor yet the tutors to suffer it: for vice is of such a propertie, that if a childe in his youth dare play a point, it is to bee feared when he commeth to yeares, hee will play his coate.
Waying the matter more deeply, and aggrauating this vice, I say further, and affirme, that when the children of Princes and great Lords play, a man ought not to make account of that which they may winne or loose: for that of all miseries were most miserie, if therefore my penne should forbidde them play. For play ought not to be forbidden to young children, for the money that they lose; but for the vices which they winne thereby, and for the corrupt manners which therein they doe learne.
Octauian, who was the second Emperour of Rome, and one of the fortunatest Emperours that euer was, among all his vertues was noted of one thing onely, which is, that from his youth he was much giuen to play at tennis. Of the which vice hee was not onely admonished secretly, but also was forbidden it openly. For as Cicero sayeth in his booke of Lawes, when the Emperour was noted of any open vice, they might boldly reproue him in the open Senate.
When Octauian was for this vice reproued by the Senate, they sayde hee spake these wordes: You haue reason (O Fathers conscript) in taking from me my pastime: for it is The speech of the Emperour Octauian. necessary that the vertues of Princes should be so many, that al men might prayse them, and their vices so fewe, that no man might reproue them.
These wordes were notable, & worthy of such a rare and excellent [Page 147] Prince. For in the end, considering their delicate and wanton bringing vp, together with the liberty that they haue: Wee ought to thanke and commend them for the good workes which they doe, and most of all to reioyce for the vices which they want.
To our matter therefore, amongst the other wicked vices that children gette in their youth, when they are players: This is one: that they learne to bee theeues and lyers: For the money that they playe, to demaund it their Fathers they are afrayde and ashamed: and of theyr owne proper goods, as yet they haue none in their hands.
Wherefore a man may easily conclude, tha [...] if children play, of necessitie they must steale.
The sixe and thirtieth Emperor of Rome, was Claudius Luganus, a man very temperate in eating, moderate in apparrell, vpright in iustice, and very fortunate in chiualry: for he did not onely repulse the Gothes from Illyria, but also vanquished in a batrell the Germaines, wherin were slaine aboue a hundred thousand.
This battell was neere vnto the Lake Verucus, in a place called Luganus, and for a memory of that great battell and victory, they called him Claudius Luganus.
For it was a custome among the Romaines, that according to the good or euill workes that Princes did, so they were iudged, and know by such surnames, whether it were good or euill.
This Emperour had but one onely sonne, which was a prince of comely personage, and liuely of vnderstanding: but aboue all things giuen to play; so that these good gifts which nature gaue him to work in vertue, he misused alwayes in play. And amongst young men he desired rather to haunt vice, then among the Philosophers to learne vertue.
And hereat a man ought not to maruell, for all men of great courage (vnlesse they be compelled to do vertuous acts) doe exercise of themselues many detestable vices.
It chaunced when this young prince had no more to play nor gage, he robbed out of his Fathers chamber a rich Iewell of golde, whereof also his Master was priuie. And when the knowledge thereof came to the Emperours eates, hee immediately dishenherited his sonne of the Empire, and caused the head of the Master The sentence of the Emperour vpon the Prince and his master. to bee cut off his body, and all those likewise that played with him to be banished the Countrey. This act made euery man afrayde, for correction executed after a good sorte, hath this property, that it encourageth the good to be good, and feareth the wicked from their wickednesse.
Merula in the tenth booke of Caesars (whereas at large hee mentioneth this matter) sayeth, that the Romaines esteemed more the banishment of those players from Rome, then to haue drouen out the Gothes from Illyria, and to say the trueth, they had reason: For a prince deserueth a greater growne of glory to banish the vitious from his palace, then hee doeth for chasing the enemies out of his dominion.
CHAP. XL. ¶ Of two other vices, perillous in Youth, which the Maisters ought to keepe them from: and that is to bee shamelesse in countenance, and addicted to wickednesse, and the lusts of the Flesh.
THirdlie; Tutours ought to trauel, that that the Children which they haue in charge, be not light & worldly: nor that they do consent that they be bolde or shamelesse. And I say, that they doe not suffer them to be light or vnconstant: For of young men vnconstant and light, commeth oftentimes an olde man, fonde, and vnthriftie. I say, that they doe not suffer them to be too rashe: For of too hardie young men, commeth rebellious and seditious persons. I say that they doe not consent they bee shameles: For, of the vnshamefastnes, commeth slaunderous persons.
Princes and great Lords ought to haue much care and circumspection, that their Children bee brought vp in shamefastnes with honestie. For, the What is required in great mens Children crowne doth not giue so much glorie to a King, nor the head doth more set forth the man, nor the precious jewell more adorne the breast, nor yet the regal Scepter more become the hand, then shamefastnes with honesty, beautifieth a young man. For, a man of what estate soeuer hee be, the honesty which hee sheweth outwardly, doeth most commonly hyde many secret vices, wherewith he is indued inwardly.
In the time of the reigne of the Emperour Helyus Pertinax, (the nineteenth Emperour of Rome) two Consulls gouerned the Common-wealth: the one was named Verut, and the other Mamillus.
One day they came vnto the Emperour, and were humble suiters to his Highnesse: beseeching him, that it would please him to accept, and receyue their two children into his seruice, the eldest of the which passed not as yet twelue yeares of age: the which request, after the Emperour had graunted, the Fathers were not negligent to bring them vnto him; and beeing come before his presence, eache of them made an oration, the one in Latine, and the other in Greeke. Wherewith the Emperour was greatly pleased, and all the residue amazed: For at that time none serued the Romaine Princes, but hee that was very apte to Chiualrie, or very toward in Sciences.
As these two Children in the presence of the Emperour made their orations, the one of them behelde the Emperour in such sorte, that his eyes neuer went off him, neither once mouing his head, to looke downe to the earth: and the other contrarie, behelde the earth alwayes, and neuer lift vp his head during his oration.
Wherewith the Emperour (beeing a graue man) was so highly pleased with the demeanours of this Childe, that hee did not onely admit him for to serue him at his Table, but also hee suffered him to enter into his Chamber; and this was a preferment of great estimation: For Princes did not The reward of shamefastnes. vse to be serued at their Tables, nor in their chambers with any, vnlesse they were of his owne Kinred, or auncient Seruants.
And concerning the other childe, which was his companion, the Emperour returned againe to his father, saying: That when hereafter hee should bee more shamefaste, hee would receyue him into his seruice. And certainely, the Emperour had great reason: for good & graue Princes ought [Page 349] not to be serued with light & shamelesse children.
I would now demaund Fathers which loue their children very well, and would they should bee worthy: what it auayleth their children to be faire of countenance, wel disposed of body, liuely of spirit, white of skinne, to haue yellow hayres, to bee eloquent in speech, profound in science: if with all these graces that nature giueth them, they bee too bolde in that they doe, and shameles in that they say: The Author hereof is Patritius Senensis, in the first booke De Rege et regno.
One of the most fortunate princes was the great Theodosius, the which amongst all other vertues, had one most singular, the which was, that Commendation of the Empeperour The odosius. hee was neuer serued in his pallace with any young man that was vnshamefast, or seditious nor with any olde man which was dishonest: for he sayde oft times that Princes shall neuer bee well beloued, if they haue about them lyers or slaunderers.
This good Emperour spake as a man of experience, and very sage: for if the Councellers and familiars of Princes bee euill taught and vnpatient, they offend many: and if they bee lyers, they deceyue al, and if they be dishonest they slaunder the people. And these offences bee not so great vnto them that commit them, as they bee vnto the Prince which suffereth them.
The Emperour Theodose had in his palace two Knights, the one called Ruffinus, and the other Stelliconus, by whose prudence and wisedome the Common wealth was ruled and gouerned. And as Ignatius Baptista sayeth, they two were the Tutours and Gouernours of the children of Theodose, whose names were Archadius and Honorius: for as Seneca saith, When good Princes doe die, they ought to bee more carefull to procure Masters and Tutours which shall teach their children, then to procure realmes or kingdomes for to enrich them.
The two Masters Stelliconus and Ruffinus had in the palace of Theodose each of them a sonne, the which were maruellous well taught, and very shamefast: and for the contrary, the two Princes Honorius and Arcadius were euill mannered, and not very honest. And therefore the good A memorable thing of the Emperour Theodosius. Emperour Theodose tooke these children oft times, and set them at his Table: and contrary, hee would not once behold his owne.
Let no man maruel though a Prince of such a grauity, did a thing of so small importance: for to say the truth, the shamefast children, and well taught are but robbers of the hearts of other men.
Fourthly, the Tutors and Masters of Princes ought to take good heed, that when the young princes their Schollers waxe great, that they giue not themselues ouer to the wicked vice of the flesh, so that the sensuality and euill inclination of the wanton child, ought to bee remoued by the wisedome of the chaste Master. For this cursed flesh is of such condition, that if once by wantonnes the wicket be opened, death shall sooner approch, then the gate shall be shut againe.
The trees which budde and cast leaues before the time, our hope is neuer to eate of their fruit in season. I meane, that when children haunt the vice of the flesh, whiles they be yong: there is small hope of goodnesse to bee looked for in them when they be olde.
And the elder we see them waxe, the more wee may be assured of their vices. And where wee see that vice encreaseth, there wee may affirme [Page 350] that vertue diminisheth.
Plato in his second booke of laws ordayneth and commaundeth, that young men should not marry before they were 25. yeares of age, and the The ordinances of Plato. young maydens at 20. becaust at that age their fathers abide lesse dangers in begetting them, & giuing of them life, and the children also which are borne, haue more strength against the assaults of death. Therefore if it bee true (as it is true indeed) I aske now, if to bee married and get children (which is the end of marriage) the Philosophers doe not suffer vntill such time as they bee men: then I say, that Masters ought not to suffer their schollers to haunt the vices of the flesh when they bee children. In this case, the good fathers ought not alone to commit this matter to their Tutors, but also thereunto to haue an eye themselus. For oft times they will say, they haue been at their deuotions in the Temples, when in deed they haue offered veneriall sacrifice to the Curtezan.
The vice of the flesh is of such condition, that a man cannot giue Young mē ought to abstaine from the vice of the flesh. himselfe vnto it, without grudge of Conscience, without hurt of his renowne, without losse of his goods, without shortning of his life, and also without offence to the Commonwealth: for oft times, men enclined to such vice, doe rebell, trouble and slaunder the people. Seneca satisfied me greatly, in the which he writeth in the second booke De Clementia to Nero, where hee sayeth these words: If I knew the Gods would pardon me, and also that men would not hate mee: yet I ensure thee for the vilenes therof, I would not sinne in the flesh.
And truly Seneca had reason, for Aristotle sayeth, That all Beastes after the act of Venerie are sorry, but the Cocke alone.
O Gouernours, and Masters of great Princes and Lords, by the immortal Gods I sweare, which created vs, I coniure you, and for that you owe to the Nobility I desire you that you will bridle with a sharpe snafle your charge, and giue them not the reine to follow vices: for if these young children liue, they will haue time ynough to search, to follow, to attaine, and also to cast off those yokes: for through our frailety, this wicked vice of the flesh, in euery place, in all ages, in euery estate, and at all times (bee it by reason, or not) is neuer out of season. What shall I say to you in this case? if the children passe the furiousnes of their youth without the bridle, then they bee voyde of the loue of God, they follow the trumpet of sensuality, after the sound whereof they runne headlong into the yoake, and loose that that profiteth, to win that which hurteth? For in the carnall vices he that hath the least of that which sensuality desireth, hath much more therof then reason willeth. Considering that the Masters are negligent, the children bolde, their vnderstandings blinded, and seeing that their appetites do accomplish beastly motions, I aske now what remayneth to the childe, and what contentation hath hee of such filth and naughtinesse? Truly, since the fleshly and vicious man is ouercome with his appetite, of those that What inconueniēce followeth the fleshly minded man. escape best, I see none other fruit, but that their bodies remaine diseased, and their vnderstanding blinded, their memory dulled, their sense corrupted, their will hurted, their reason subuerted, and their good fame lost, and worst of all, the flesh remaineth alwayes flesh.
O how many young men are deceyued, thinking that for to satisfie and by once engaging themselues to vices, that from that time forwarde they shall cease to bee vicious, the [Page 351] which thing not onely doth not profite them, but also is very hurtfull vnto them: For fire is not quenched with drye wood, but with cold water.
But O God, what shall wee doe, since that now a dayes, the Fathers doe as much esteeme their children for being fine, and bolde minions among women, as if they were verie profound in science, or hardie in feates of Armes? and that which is worst, they oft times make more of their bastards gotten in adulterie, then of their legitimate childe conceiued in matrimony.
What shall wee say then of mothers? Truely I am ashamed for to A good lesson for Parents. speake it, but they should bee more ashamed to doe it, which is, because they would not displease their husbands, they hide the wickednesse of their children; they put the children of their harlots to the Nurse, they redeeme their gages, they giue them money to play at dice, they reconcile them to their fathers when they haue offended, they borrow them money to redeeme them when they are indebted.
Finally, they are makers of their bodies, and vndoers of their soules. I speake this insidently, for that the masters would correct the children, but the Fathers and mothers forbid them. For it little auayleth for one to pricke the horse with the spurre, when hee that sitteth vpon him holdeth him back with the bridle. Therfore to our matter, what shall we do to remedy this ill in the young man: which in his flesh is vicious? Truely I see no other remedie, but with the moist earth to quench the flaming fire, and to keepe him from the occasions of vice.
For in the warre, honour, by tarrying is obtained: but in the vice of the flesh, the victory by flying is obtayned.
THE THIRD BOOKE OF THE DIALL OF PRINCES, WITH THE FAMOVS BOOKE OF MARCVS AVRELIVS, WHERE HEE entreateth of the vertues which Princes ought to haue, as Iustice, Peace, and Magnificence.
CHAP. I. How Princes and great Lordes ought to trauell to administer to all equall iustice.
EGidius Frigulus, one of the most famous and renowmed Philosophers of Rome, sayde, that that betweene two of the Zodaicall signes (Leo and Libra) is a Virgine named Iustice: the which in times past dwelled among men in earth, and after that shee was of them neglected, shee ascended vp to Heauen.
This Philosopher would let vs vnderstand, that Iustice is so excellent a vertue, that she passeth al mens capacitie: since shee made heauen her mansion place, and could finde no man in the whole earth that wold entertaine her in his house.
During the time they were chaste, gentle, pittifull, patient, embracers The excellency of vertue. of vertue, honest and true: Iustice remayning in the earth with them: but since they are conuerted vnto adulterers, tyrants, giuen to be proud, vnpatient, lyers, and blasphemers, shee determined to forsake them, and to ascend vp into heauen. So that this Philosopher concluded, that for the wickednesse that men commit on earth, Iustice hath leapt from them into Heauen.
Though this seeme to bee a Poeticall fiction, yet it comprehendeth in it high and profound doctrine, the which seemeth to be very cleare, for where wee see iustice, there are few theeues, few murderers, few tirants, and few blasphemers.
Finally, I say, that in the house or Common wealth where Iustice [Page 354] remaineth, a man can not committe vice, and much lesse, dissemble with the vicious.
Homer desirous to exalt justice, could not tell what to say more, but to call Kings, the children of the great God Iupiter: and that not for that naturalty they haue, but for the office of iustice, which they minister. So that Homer concludeth, that a man ought not to call iust Princes other, but the children of God.
The diuiue Plato, in the fourth booke of his common-wealth, saieth: that the chiefest gift God gaue to men is, that they being (as they be) of such vile clay, should bee gouerned by justice.
I would to GOD, all those which reade this wryting, vnderstoode right well that which Plato said: For, if men were not indued with reason, and gouerned by iustice: amongst all beasts none were so vnprofitable.
Let reason be taken from man, wherwith he is indued, and iustice whereby he is gouerned: then shall men easily perceyue in what sort he will leade his life. He cannot fight as the Elephant, nor defend himselfe as the Tygre, nor he can hunte as the Lyon, neither labour as the Oxe: and that wherby he should profite (as I thinke) is, that he should eate Beares and Lyons, in his life, as now he shall be eaten of worms after his death.
All the Poets that inuented fictions, all the Oratours which made Orations, How vile man were if Iustice were wanting. all the Philosophers which wrote books, all the Sages which left vs their doctrines, and all the Princes which instituted Lawes, meant nothing else, but to perswade vs to think how briefe and vnprofitable this life is, and how necessary a thing iustice is therin. For the filth and corruption which the bodie hath without the soule: the selfe same hath the common-wealth without iustice.
Wee cannot denye but that the Romaines haue been prowde, enuious, adulterers, shamelesse, and ambicious: but yet with all these faultes, they haue beene great obseruers of iustice. So that if God gaue them so manie Triumphs, beeing loaden and enuironed with so many vices: it was not for the vertues they had, but for the great iustice which they did administer.
Plinie in his second booke saith, that Democrites affirmed, there were two gods, which gouerned the vniuersall world: that is to say: Reward, and Punishment. Whereby wee may gather, that nothing is more necessarie, then true and right iustice. For, the one rewardeth the good, and the other, leaueth not vnpunished the euill.
Saint Austine, in the first Booke De Ciuitate Dei, saieth these words: Iustice taken away, what are Realmes, but dennes of Theeues? Truely hee had great reason. For, if there were no Nothing mor profitable to the Common-wealth then true lustice. whips for vagabonds: gags for blasphemers: fines for periurie: fires for heretiques: sword for murderers: galowes for theeues: nor prisons for Rebells: we may boldly say, there would not bee so many Beasts on the mountains, as there would be thieues in the Common-wealth.
In many things, or in the greatest parte of the commonwealth, wee see that Bread, Wine, Corn, Fish, Wool, and other things necessary for the life of the people wanteth: but we neuer saw but malicious men in euery place did abound. Therefore I sweare vnto you, that it were a good bargaine to chaunge all the wicked men in the commonwealth, for one onely poore sheepe in the fielde.
In the Common-wealth wee see nought else but whipping daylie, beheading, slaying, drowning, & hanging: but notwithstanding this, the wicked which remaine still, are so manie in number, that if all those should be hanged that deserue it by Iustice; [Page 155] a man could hardly finde hang-men sufficient, nor gallowes to hang them vpon.
Admit according to the varietie of realmes and prouinces, that diuers lawes and customes haue beene instituted therein: yet for a truth there was neuer, nor shall bee found any nation or Common wealth in the No nation so barbarous, but it founded of instice. world so barbarous, but hath beene founded of iustice: For to affirme that men can bee preserued without iustice, is as much as to say, the fish can liue without water. How is it possible that a Common Wealth may liue without iustice, sith without her cannot bee ruled one onely person?
Plinie in an Epistle sayeth, that he himselffe hauing the charge of a prouince in Affricke, demaunded an old man, and in gouernement expert, what he might doe to administer iustice? the aged man answered: Doe iustice of thy selfe, if thou wilt be a minister thereof: For the good iudge, with the right yeard of his owne life, ought to measure the whole state of the common-wealth. And hee sayde further, If thou wilt be right with men, and cleane before God, beware of presumption in thine office: For the proud and presumptuous Iudges oftentimes doe contrarie to their wordes, and also exceede in their deedes.
Plinie also sayeth, that hee profited more with the counsell this olde man gaue him, then with all that euer he had read in his bookes. O to how much is hee bound that hath taken vpon him to administer Iustice? For if such a one be an vpright man, hee accomplisheth that where vnto hee is bound: but if such a one of himself be vniust, iustly of God hee ought to be punished, and likewise of men to bee accused.
When great Princes commaund their seruants or Subiects any thing, & that they cannot accomplish them in such sort as they had charge to do: then he ought to haue them excused, those excepted, which gouern realms and prouinces: for no man leaueth to administer iustice, but for want of knowledge or experience: or else through aboundance of affection or malice If a Captaine lose a battel he may excuse himselfe saying, his men were fled when they should haue assaulted their enemies. A poast may excuse himselfe for that the waters were so high. A hunter may say that beast is escaped another way, and others such like: but a gouernour of a Common wealth, what excuse can he haue that he doth not iustice? Cō science ought to burden him, and also he ought to bee ashamed to take vpon him the charge of any thing, if hee doubt to bring it to effect: for shamefast faces and haughty courages, either ought to put that in execution which they take vpon them, or else they ought to shew a lawful cause why it tooke no effect. Let vs knowe what iustice is, & then we shall know what is meete for the administration thereof? The office of a good Iudge is to defend the cōmon wealth, to helpe the innocent, to aide the simple, to The office of euery Magistrate. correct the offender, to helpe the orphanes, to doe for the poore, to bridle the ambitious: finally, by iustice he ought to giue each one his owne, and to dispossesse those which holde any thing wrongfully of others.
When a prince commandeth any man to take the charge of iustice, and such one doth not seek it of himselfe, if perchance he did not in all pointes vprightly in the administration therof, he might haue some excuse saying that though hee hath accepted it, it was not with intent to erre, but because he would obey: what shal we say of many, which without shame, without knowledge, experiēce, & without [Page 356] conscience do procure the office of iustice? O if Princes knew what they giue, when they giue the charge to any to gouern the Common-welth, I sweare vnto you, that they were better to giue them goods to find them for twenty yeares, then for to trust them with the charge of iustice twenty daies.
What a thing is it to see some men shamelesse, dishonest great talkers, gluttons, ambitious, and couetous, What a great thing it is to doe iustice vprightly. the which without any reasonable cause, authority or knowledge, demaund of Princes an office of iustice, as if by iustice they did demaund their owne? Would to God the giuer would haue an eye to those which in this case do demaund. But what shall wee say of those that doe solicite them, procure them, importune them, beseech them, and more then that, euen as without shame they doe demaund it, so without conscience likewise they buy it? There remaineth in this case more as yet, that is, that if those cursed men doe not attaine to that which they demaund, and if those, (hauing no conscience) do not giue it them, then they blaspheme and complain of those which are in fauour with princes, as if they had done them great iniurie.
O what trouble is it to good men to accomplish the desires of the euill: For the couetous & ambitious persons doe but desire that the good mē had the like paine in giuing that they haue in demaunding. Many times I haue thought with my selfe, wherein so many damages of the Commonwealth should consist, such disobedience, such contrarieties, and so many thefts: and in the end I finde, that all or the most part proceed in that, that they prouide for ministers of iustice, not for conscience sake, but for couetousnesse onely.
Admit that it appertaine to all to desire and procure iustice: yet to none it appertaineth so much to procure and defend it, as to the royall person, which the subiects ought sometime to feare, but princes are bound to minister it equally to all. It is a great matter that princes be pure in life, and that their houses bee well ordered, to the end that their iustice be of credite and authoritie: For he which of himselfe is vniust, giueth no hope that another at his hands shold Hee that in his life is vn iust, cannot doe iustice to another. haue iustice. He which cannot gouerne his owne house, can euill gouerne the common-wealth. Those princes which are true in their words, cleane in their liues, and iust in their works, though sometime they erre in the administration of the Common wealth, all excuse them, saying, that they erre not thorough the malice of themselues, but rather thorow the euill counsell of others. So that all which the good prince doth, they commend, and all the euill that chanceth, they excuse.
Plutarch in the second Booke of his Common wealth, sayeth, That herein some Princes differ from others: For the euill Prince is onely obeyed, but the good Prince is obeyed, feared and loued. And moreouer, hee that is good, maketh heauy things light with his goodnesse: and the Tyrant that is euill, maketh things which are light to be very heauy through his naugh tinesse.
Happie is the prince which is obeyed: but much more happy is he which is obeyed, feared and loued: for the body is weary oftentimes to obey: but the heart is neuer constrained to loue.
Titus the Emperour was once demanded of these two things, that is to say, Whether to reward the good, or to punish the euill, were for a Prince more naturall? Hee aunswered, As naturall as both the right and left arme is in [Page 157] a man: so necessarie is reward and punishment in a Prince. But as wee helpe our selus more with the right arm then with the left: so the Prince ought more to endeauour himselfe to reward then to punish. For punishment ought to bee by the handes of a stranger, but reward ought to bee with his owne proper hands.
When wee perswade Princes to bee iust, and that they doe iustice, it is not to bee vnderstood, that they should be head murderers, banish rebels, and seditious persons, hang theeues, and burie felons aliue: For such or other like things, rather appertaine to bloudy Hangmen, then to pittifull Kings. All the profit of iustice is, in that the Prince be honest of person, carefull for his householde, zealous of the Commonwealth, and not large of his Conscience: For Princes ought not to bee commended for murdering many cruelly: but for reforming the common wealth louingly.
Plutarch in the comfortable Oration that hee wrote to Appoloni, speaking of the Lawes which Promotheus gaue to the Egyptians, amongst the residue he recited these three that follow.
Wee ordaine and commaund that Lawes giuē to the Egyptians. Princes lay not hands on others for any crimes or offences done vnto himselfe: For Princes ought not to vse their hāds to reuenge their owne iniuries: but rather by iustice to defend other that bee iniuried.
Wee ordaine and commaund, that all times when they shall bee in their Common wealth, and not in wars, they shall not weare weapons defensiue, and much lesse offensiue: For good Princes neyther ought to bee hastie, to the ende they may kill: nor yet to haue vices, whereby they may be killed.
We ordaine and commaund, that the Prince doe not onely not kill with his handes, but also that doe not see them doe iustice with his eyes.
For how much noble and worthy a thing it is before the presence of a Prince, that al should receyue honor: so slaunderous a thing it is that any in his presence should lose their liues.
CHAP. II. The way that Princes ought to vse in choosing their Iudges and Officers in their Countries.
SParthianus in the liues that he wrote of thirty tyrants sayde, that Ciriacus the Tirant, had a memoriall made of certaine of the Senatours, whom he would haue killed: and when the thing was discouered they slew him, They found in the hands of another tyrant named Regilius, after hee was dead, a memoriall of those which with his own hands he had depriued of their liues, wherfore they afterward depriued him of his buriall. O how many Iudges are there in this world, that doe as much aduance themselues of those, whom they haue caused to be whipt, to bee slaine, to be beheaded, to be hanged, quartered, and slaine, as others doe, which haue redeemed many captiues, or haue married Orphanes.
Those Iudges which according to the order of Lawes, customes, and iurisdictions to punish the euill. I do wel allow, but to reioice and aduance themselues of them whom they haue condemned, I vtterly abhor: for the What is required in a vertuous Iudge. vertuous and Christian Iudge ought rather to shed teares in the Churches, then by affection to shed bloud of men in the seate of iudgement.
[Page 358] And for the confirmation of that which I haue sayde, I affirme, that the good iudge and gouernor of the common-wealth, ought not to beare in minde, the murthers and slaughters done by others: but to record the iniuryes which they haue done themselues. For in other mens offences, we ought to be silent, and for our owne iniquities wee ought to be penitent.
Iudges execute some punishments, which men disallow, and God doeth aproue: an other time God condemneth them, though the world do allow them: Therefore the surest thing for Iudges is, not to reioyce of their brethren whom they haue corrected, but what they themselues for theyr owne offences haue deserued. In iudging others, by false witnes, the Iudges many times against theyr wills doe erre: but in their owne matters they can neuer erre (vnlesse they will) since the offences which wee commit are alwayes certaine.
Therefore it grieueth mee much, that there be some so euill: which being accused before GOD: would excuse themselues before men: yet their owne breethren with false witnesses, they dare condemne, How circū spect Princes ought to be in chusing Iudges
Great care ought Princes to haue, to examin them whom they wil make Iudges, and gouernors. For the iudge which daylie maketh not an account with his Conscience in secrete, shall commit euery houre a thousand euills in the Common-wealth.
Oh poore and miserable commonwealth; where the gouernours and iudges thereof doe not cast their eyes but vnto them whome they ought to chastise, where they doe not thinke in their hearts, but how they may enrich their Coffers, where they doe not occupie their handes but to take bribes: and doe not passe the time, but in feastings and Bankettes.
And I sayd not without a cause bankets. For there are too many iudges, which employ their studyes more to get them Friendes, to maintaine their state proudly, then for to reade good bookes, and to iudge mens causes vprightly.
The iudge which neuer readeth: the iudge which neuer studyeth: the iudge which neuer openeth booke: the iudge which is neuer in his house: the iudge which day and night robbeth; How is it possible that hee should execute one true iustice?
There can bee no greater feare in a man, nor slaunder more great in the commonwealth, then when the iudge (who ought to iudge and chastise the offences of others,) is alwayes ouerwhelmed with vices. How Iudge, ought to bestowe their time.
The iudge which presumeth to bee good, and wil be good, and which desireth to be good: a man should finde him no where, vnlesse hee be studying in his house, or else sitting in the place of Iustice, &c.
Let not Noble Princes trust vppon this, when they prouide Iudges, and Gouernours, saying: That if they finde any euill, they wil soone cut him off: For such are so euill, that if they want no meanes to get to those Offices, they shal want no cautils, nor corrupt Friends, to suborne them therin.
When Noble Princes, and great lords shall find any iudge euill, I counsell them to auoyde him immediately, or that they shew themselues not contēted with his doings: For such a one shall forthwith enforce himselfe to do iustice; with intention, that those of the commonwealth might desire him to be their iudge. Although my pen doth reproue these iudges which are extreame and cruell, yet my intention is not to cōmend the others which are negligent and carelesse, the which neyther by knowledge can iudge, nor with stoutnesse punish. The Iudges which iudge and gouerne, they ought [Page 159] not to bee with all so familiar, that all dare take vpon them to aske him: for in this case, if some commend his gentle conuersation, others will blame his partiall Iustice.
I counsell, admonish, and require Princes, that they content themselus not onely to be true, pittifull, honest, and vertuous, nor yet to be iust: but that it is as well necessarie they bee obseruers of iustice: For let them know, that there is great difference, between him that is iust, and another Difference betweene him that is iust, and him that administreth iustice that doth minister iustice: for to the Prince that is good, commeth honor to his person: but from him that ministreth iustice, commeth profite to the Common-wealth.
Peraduenture, it is no wonder to see the Prince that will tell no lye, and to see his Ministers not to speake one truth? Peraduenture I do not thinke my selfe slaundered, to see the Prince temperate in eating, and to see all his seruants distempred both with eating and drinking? peraduenture, and it is no cause to muse vpon, to see the Princes chast and honest, and to see their seruants in flesh, filthy and dissolute? peraduenture it is no cause to maruell to see the Prince iust, and to loue iustice, and that very few of his ministers do minister it.
The end why all these thinges are spoken, is to aduertise Princes that they be not so carefull to be chast, sober, true and iust, but that they know, whether their Gouernours and Iudges are corrupted, couetous, greedy, vnshamefast, lyers or bribers: for if it toucheth vs much that our Princes be good, so much more it toucheth vs that the Ministers be not euill. One of the things wherein Princes ought to prouide with their Iudges and gouernours is, that by no meanes they suffer their lawes and and ancient customes to be broken in their commō welth, and that in their steads strange customs be not introduced: for the Comminalty is so variable in that Ancient Lawes and customes ought nor to be broken. they say, and so light in that they aske that they would dayly see a new king, and hourely change a new law. Plinie in an Epistle that he writeth to Escario sayeth, Optime apud Persius capitalem per legem fuit prohibitum, nouos aut perigrinos mores inducere. As if hee spake more plainely. Amongst the Persians it was a Law inuiolable, that no man should bring into the Common-wealth any strange custome: & for such an offence they should pay none other ransome but the losse of their heads.
As men dayly doe diminish in vertue (vnlesse by force they be withholden) and augment in vanity: so they would inuent new deuises and strange customes, wherewith men should bee decayed, and the Common wealth destroied: for straunge meates doe alter mens stomackes. When those of Creta were vngently vsed of the Rhodians, they did not pray to their gods to send them pestilence, warre, famine, or sedition among their enemies: but that they would suffer som euil maners to be brought in amongst the people. Let not those thinke that shall reade this, that it was a small curse that those of Creta desired, and that it was a small reuenge which God gaue them of their enemies, if he gaue them that which they did require, for from war famin and pestilence, som may escape but with deuises we see all perish. Of many things the historiās do reproue the Emperor Sergius Galba, & for one alone they praise him, That he neuer cōsented that in Rome any new law shold be made, nor any old custom broken. And he commanded that those should be grieuously punished which brought in any new law, & he rewarded those which put him in mind of any olde custome, the which bee commaunded to bee obserued.
[Page 360] It is a mockery, yea (better to say) a slaunder, to see that some young Iudges will doe that of the Commonwealth, which a Taylour doeth of a gowne: (that is to say) to turne him, within and without, before & behind, which they ought not to doe, nor the people to consent therevnto. For the Prince doeth not sende them to make lawes, nor to bring in new orders, but to the ende that they do only preserue the commonwealth in their good customes.
Princes ought also to take great care that vnto litle and great, rich & poor, they minister equall iustice: sith there Princes ought not to be partiall in iudgement. is no diuine nor humaine law, that giueth them power and aucthoritie to corrupt it: For, if a Prince cannot without reason d pose of his owne goods, much lesse he can make lawes, and sell Iustice.
Wee doe not denye a Prince, but that hee is lorde of Beastes, of Fysh, of Byrds, of Mynes, of Mountains, of seruants, and of fields. Finally, that hee is lord of the sea and land: but therefore we will not graunt him that he is lord of iustice. For there is none other true Lorde of Iustice, but GOD: which is the selfe same Iustice.
When a Prince dyeth, and maketh his will, he sayeth: I bequeath all my Realms and Seigniories to the Prince my sonne and legitimate heyre, and doe leaue vnto my second sonne, such an Estate and dowrey, and to my daughter such Lands, and to all I recommend Iustice, to the end they do obserue it, and cause it to be obserued, euery one in his owne Countrey.
It is much to note, that the Father doth not say, that hee leaueth vnto his Sonne Iustice, but that hee doeth recommend it vnto him: so that the good Princes ought not to think that they haue inherited Iustice of theyr predecessors, in form of a patrimony, but that God gaue it vnto thē of trust
Princes of all things may be called Lords, saue onely of Iustice, whereof they are but onely ministers. Wee dare boldely say, that the Prince, or Princes the ministers of God, for Iustice. great Lord, which iudgeth causes not according to the Diuine will, but according to their owne affection: wee will not call him a iust iudge, but a rouing Theefe. For the Prince is much worse, which robbeth God of Iustice: then the Theefe which stealeth the goods from men.
Suetonius Tranquillus reciteth much wickednes of Domitian: and the greatest of al was, the poore, the Orphans, and those which could doe little, hee alwayes punished: and the other that were rich, and of authoritie he pardoned. He compounded with some for money, and with others hee dissembled for fauour.
Lampridius sayde of Alexander Seuerus, the 25. Emperour of Rome, that An excellēt saying of Alexander Seuerus. hee neuer kept in his Court any euill man, or suffered any of his parents to be vicious. And when he was demanded on a time, why hee banished one of his cousines: since he was young, and a Childe? Hee aunswered them, which intreated for him, and alleadged. That though he was young and his Cousin: yet Charior est mihi Respub: as if more plainely he had saide, I haue none other neerer of kinne to mee in my Pallace, then the Commonwealth.
O high, & much more higher words, worthy for a truth to be writtē in princes hearts; whereby they ought to be aduertised, that hee said not, I take for my kinne one part of the Commonwealth:
For, the Prince which feareth GOD, and desireth to be found iust, as he wil indifferently be obeyed of al, so ought he equally to administer iustice to all. If they wil not credit me nor my pen, let them credit Plato in the books of his commonwealth: who giueth libertie and licence to all the Plebeyans, to the end [Page 361] that euery one doe loue his wife, his children, and his Parents. And this sorte of loue hee will not that Princes haue, to whome hee perswadeth that first aboue all things, they loue theyr cōmon-wealth: For if the prince doe loue anie thing aboue his Commonwealth, it is vnpossible but that one day, for the loue of that he will wring Iustice.
When Plato gaue not licence vnto Princes not to enlarge theyr loue on The Lawes of Plato, concerning princes. diuers things, peraduenture he would counsell them, least they should doe some wrongs. It chaunceth oft times that Princes doe omit iustice: not for that they will not administer it, but because they will not bee informed of things, which they ought to remedie, and looke vnto. And this is vnexcusable, where hee hurteth his honour, burdeneth his conscience. For, at the day of iudgement (though hee be not accused for malice, yet hee shall be condemned for negligence.)
The Prince which is carefull to see, and to enquire the dammages of his Realmes: we may say that if he doeth not prouide for them, it is because he can do no more: but he which is negligent to see them, and know them, we cannot say but if he leaue to prouide, it is for that hee will not.
The Prince or great Lorde, which dare take vpon him such things; what name or renowme may we giue him? I would not we should call such a one father of the commonwealth: but destroyer of his countrey. For there can be no tyrannie greater, nor more vnequall, then for the physitian to aske his duety for his cure, before hee hath begunne to minister the medicine.
That Princes and great Lords desire to know their reuenues, I allow them: but in that they care not to knowe the dāmages of their commonwealths, I do discommend them. For the people pay tribute to their Princes, to the ende they should deliuer them from their enemies, and defend them from tyraunts. For the Iudges which wilbe euill, though I say much, it will profite little: but vnto those which desire to bee good, that which is spoken (as I thinke) sufficeth: Notwithstanding that which is spoken I say, that Iudges and gouernors ought to consider wel with themselues, and see if they wil be counted for iust ministers or cruell tirants. For, the office of a Tyrant is, to robbe the Common-wealth: and the Office of the good Prince is, to reforme the people.
Noble Princes and great Lordes, haue more businesse then they thinke they haue: to see all those which will see them, and to heare all those which will complaine vnto them. And the cause hereof is, admitte that which the Subiect demaundeth, hee presently cannot giue: nor that whereof hee The difference betweene a tyrant and a good prince complaineth, he cannot remedie; yet notwithstanding they remaine after a sort contented: saying, that they haue now shewed all their complaynts and iniuries vnto their princes. For, the wounded harts oftentimes vtter their inward paines which they feele, without anie hope to receyue comforte of that which they desire.
Plutarche in his Apothegmes sayeth: that a poore and aged woman, desired king Philippe of Macedonie, (which was father of king Alexander the great) that hee would heare her with iustice: and sith shee was very importunate vpon him, K: Philip saide on a day vnto her. I pray thee woman bee contented: I sweare by the gods, I haue no leysure to heare thy complaint. The old woman answered the king: Beholde, K: Philippe, if thou hast not time to heare mee with iustice, resigne thy Kingdome, and another shall gouerne thy Commonwealth.
CHAP. III. Of an oration which a villaine dwelling neere to the riuer of Danuby, maae before the Senatours of Rome, concerning the tyrannies and oppressions which their officers vsed in his countrey, And the Oration is diuided into three Chapters.
IN the tenth yeare of the raigne of the good Emperour Marcus Aurelius, A great pestilence in Rome in the time of M: Aurelius there happened in Rome a generall pestilence: the which being so outragious, the good Emperour went into Campaigne, which at time was very healthfull, & without diseases, though it was very drie, and wanted much of that which was necessarie: yet notwithstanding the good Emperor was there with all the principall Senatours of Rome: for in the time of pestilence men doe not seeke where they should reioice their persōs, but where they may saue their liues.
Marcus Aurelius being there in Campagnia was sore vexed with a Fener: and as his condition was alwaies to bee amongst sages: so at that time his sicknesse required to be visited by Physitians. The resort that he had in his Pallace was very great, as well of Philosophers for to teach, as of Physitians for to dispute: For this prince ordered his life in such sorte, that in his absence things touching the warre were well prouided: and in his presence was nothing but matters of knowledge argued.
It chaunced one day as Marcus Aurelius was enuironed with Senators, philosophers, physitians, and other Sage men, a question was moued among them, how greatly Rome was changed, not onely in buildings which almost were vtterly decayed: but also in maners, which were wholly corrupted: the cause of this euill grew, for that Rome was full of flatterers and destitute of those which durst say the truth.
These, and such other like wordes heard, the Emperour tooke vp his hand and blessed him, and declared vnto them a notable example, saying: In the first yeare that I was Consull, there came a poore villaine from the riuer of Danuby, to aske iustice of the Senate against a Censor which did sore oppresse the people, and in deed hee did so well propound his complaint, and declare the folly and iniuries, which the Iudges did in his Country, that I doubt whether Marcus Cicero could vtter it better with his tongue, or the renowmed Homer haue writen it more eloquently with his pen.
This villaine had a small face, great The description of the villaine. lips, hollow eyes, his colour burnt, curled hayre, bare-headed, his shoes of Porpyge skinne, his coat of goates skinne, his girdle of bul-rushes, a long beard and thicke, his eye brows couered his eyes, the stomacke and the necke couered with skinnes, heared as a Beare, and a clubbe in his hand.
Without doubt, when I saw him enter into the Senate, I imagined it had beene a beast in forme of a man: and after I heard that which he sayd, I iudged him to bee a God (if there be Gods among men.) For it was a fearefull thing to behold his person, it was no lesse monstrous to heare his words.
At that time there was great prease at the dore of the Senate, of many & diuers persons, for to solicite the affayres of their Prouinces: yet notwithstanding [Page 363] this villaine spake before the others for two causes. The one, for the men were desirous to heare what so monstrous a man would say: The other, because the Senators had this custome, that the complaints of the poore should bee heard before the requests of the rich. Wherefore this villaine afterwards in the middest of the Senate, beganne to tell his tale, and the cause of his comming thither, in the which hee shewed himselfe no lesse bolde in wordes, then hee was in his attire strange, and sayd vnto them in this sort. The oration of the villaine to the Senators of Rome.
O Fathers Conscript, and happy people, I Mileno a Ploughman, dwelling neere vnto the riuer of Danube, doe salute you worthy Senators of Rome, which are conuented here in this Senate; and I beseech the Immortall Gods my tongue this day so to gouerne, that I may say that which it conuenient for my Country, and that they helpe you others to gouerne well the Common-wealth: for without the helpe of God, wee can neyther learne the good, nor auoyde the euill. The fatal Destenies permitting it, and our wrathfull Gods forsaking vs, our mishappe was such, & to you others fortune shewed herselfe so fauourable, that the proude Captaines of Rome, by force of armes tooke our Country of Germany. And I say not without a cause, that at that time the Gods were displeased with vs: for if wee Germaines had appeased our Gods, yee Romaines might well haue excused your selues for ouercomming of vs.
Great is your glory, O Romanes, for the victories you haue had, and triumphes which of many Realmes you haue conquered: but notwithstanding greater shall your infamie bee in the world to come, for the cruelties which you haue committed: for I let you know, if you doe not know it, that when the wicked went before the triumphant chariots saying, Liue, liue, inuincible Rome: On the other side, the poore Captiues went saying in their hearts, Iustice, iustice. My predecessors enhabited by the riuer of Danuby, for when the drie earth annoyed them, they came to recreat themselues in the fresh water, and if perchance the vnconstant water did annoy them, then they would return againe to the maine land. And as the appetites and conditions of men are variable, so there is a time to flye from the land, to refresh our selues by the water.
And time also when we are annoyed with the water to returne againe to the land. But how shall I speake Romaines, that which I would speake? your couetousnesse of taking other mens goods hath beene so extreame, and your pride of commaunding strange Counties hath beene so disordinate, that neyther the sea can suffice you in the deepenesse thereof, neither the land assure vs in the fields of the same.
Oh how great comfort it is for the troubled men to thinke and bee assured that there are iust Gods, the which will doe iustice on the vniust: For if the oppressed men thought themselues not assured, that the gods would wreake their iniury of their enemies, they with their owne handes would destroy themselues. The end why I speake this is, for so much as I hope in the iust Gods, that as you others without reason haue cast vs out of ourhouses, so by reason shall others come after vs, and cast you others out of Italy, & Rome both. There in my Countrey of Germany, we take it for a rule vnfallible, that he which by force taketh the good of another, by reason ought to lose his own proper right.
[Page 364] And I hope in the Gods that that which wee haue for a prouerbe in Germany, you shall haue for experience here in Rome. By the grosse wordes I speake, and by the strange apparrell which I weare, you may wel imagine that I am some rude villaine or barbarian borne: but yet notwithstanding, I want not reason to know, who is iust and righteous in holding his owne: and who is a tyrant in possessing of others. For the rude men of my profession, though in good stile they cannot declare that which they would vtter: yet notwithstanding, Wee are not ignorant of that which ought to be allowed for good; nor which ought to bee condemned for euill.
I would say therefore in this case, that that which the euill with all their tyranie haue gathered in many daies, the Gods shall take from them in one howre: and contrariwise, all that which the good shall loose in manie yeares, the Gods will restore it them in one minute: For speaking the truth, the euill to prosper in riches, is not for that the gods will it, but that they doe suffer it, and though at this houre wee complaine, dissembling wee suffer much, but the time shall come that will pay for all.
Beleeue mee in one thing, O Romanes, and doubt not therein, That of the vnlawfull gaines of the Father, followeth after the iust vndoing of their children.
Many oftentimes doe maruell in my Countrey, what the cause is, that the gods doe not take from the wicked that which they winne, immediately as soone as they winne it, and as I thinke the reason hereof is, for the dissembling with them by little and little they gather together diuers things, and afterwardes when they thinke least thereon, it is taken from them all at once: for the iust iudgement of the Gods is, that since without reason they haue done euill to others, others by reason should come in like manner which doe euill vnto them. It is vpossible that the valiant and Sage man, who in his deeds presumeth to bee wise, should take any taste in in any other mans good: for if hee did, hee would neuer content himselfe with any thing, sith hee hath not a conscience in that which is euil gotten. I know not Romanes, whether you vnderstand me, but because you shall vnderstand mee better, I say, that I maruell, and I should rather wonder, how the man keeping another mans goods, can sleepe, or rest one houre, sith hee knoweth hee hath done iniury to the gods, slaundered his neighbours, pleased his enemies, lost his friends, and endamaged those that hee robbed; and worst of all, that hee hath put his person in perill.
And I say that hee hath put his person in perill: for the day that any man determineth to take my goods, hee will also the same day (if Hee that taketh away another mans goods, putteth his life also in peril. hee can) take my life. It is an odious thing to the Gods, and very slaunderous among men, that men should haue so much (through their fleshly desires) vertue bound, and the reine of their euill works so much at liberty, that another mans misery seemeth to him riches, and that his own riches seemeth to himselfe pouerty. I care not whether he be Greeke, Barbarian Romaine, present or absent, I say, and affirme that he is, and shall bee cursed of the Gods, and hated of men; which without consideration will chaunge his good fame into shame, iustice into wrong, right into tyranny, truth into lyes, the certaine for the doubtfull, hating his owne proper, and sighing for that of other mens. Hee that hath his chiefe intention to gather goodes for [Page 165] his children, and seeketh not a good name among the renowmed: it is iust that such a one doe not only loose the goods which hee hath gathered, but also that without good name hee remaine shamefull among the wicked.
Since you other Romaines naturally are proude, and pride doth blinde you, you thinke your selues happy, that for hauing so much as you haue more then others, that therfore you should bee more honoured then all, the which truly is not so: For if presently you will not open your eyes, and confesse your owne errors, you shall see, that wheras you auant your selues to be Lords of strange Countries, you shall find yourselus made slaues with your own proper goods.
Gather as much as you will, let them doe all you doe commaund them: yet as I thinke, it little auaileth to haue Plebeians houses with goods, and contrariwise the hearts to bee possessed with couetousnesse: for the riches which are gotten with couetousnesse, and are kept with. Auarice, do take away the good name from the possessor, and do nothing auaile to maintaine his life.
It cannot bee suffered many dayes, and much lesse hidde many yeares, that one man should be counted both for rich among the rich, & for honoured among the honorable: for it is vnpossible that hee which is a great louer of temporall goods, should be a friend of his good name. O if the couetous men were of their owne honour as greedy, as they are of the goods of another desirous: I sweare vnto you by the immortall Gods, that the little worme or moth of couetousnes would not gnaw the rest of their life, nor the canker of infamie should destroy their good name after their death.
Hearken yee Romanes, hearken what I wil say, and I beseech the gods that you may vnderstand it: for other wise I should loose my labour, and yee others should take no fruit of my wordes. I see that all the World hateth pride, and yet there is none that will follow humanity. Euery man Euery man giuen to one sinne or other. condemneth adultery, and yet I see no man that liueth chaste. Euerie man curseth excesse, & I see no man liue temperately. Euery man prayseth patience, and I see no man that will suffer. Euery man blameth sloth, and I see no man but those that are idle. Euery man blameth auarice, and yet euery man robbeth.
One thing, I say, and not without teares in this Senate, openly I do declare it, which is, that with the tongue euery man prayseth vertue, and yet they themselues with al their lims are seruants vnto vices.
Doe not thinke that I say this onely for the Romanes which bee in Illyria, but for the Senators which I see here in the Senate.
All you Romanes in your deuises about your Armes, haue this for your word, Romanorum est debellare superbos, et parcere subiectos. Truely you should better haue sayde, Romanorum est spoliare innocentes, et reddere subiectos: For you Romanes are but destroyers of the people that bee peaceable, and robbers of the swette and labours of strangers.
CHAP. IIII. The villaine argueth against the Romaines, which without cause or reason conquered their Countrey, and proued manifestly that they thorow offending of their Gods, were vanquished of the Romanes.
I Aske ye Romanes, what occasion yee The villain continueth his Oration wherein hee layeth open the tyranny and oppression of the Romanes against the Germanes. haue, that are brought vp nigh to the riuer of Tiber, against vs that liue in peace, nigh to the riuer of Danuby. Peraduenture you haue seene vs friends to your foes, or else wee haue shewed our selues your enemies? peraduenture you haue heard say, that forsaking our owne land, wee should goe conquere forraine realmes? peraduenture you haue beene aduertised, that wee rebelling against our own Lords shold become obedient to the cruell Barbarians? peraduenture yee haue sent vs some Ambassadour to desire vs to be your friends, or else there came some from vs to Rome, to defie you as our enemies? peraduenture some King dyed in our realme, which by his Testament made you heyres vnto our Realme? whereby you clayme your Title, and seeke to make vs your subiects? peraduenture by some ancient law or custome yee haue found that the noble and worthy Germany, of necessity is subiect to the proude people of Rome? peraduenture wee haue destroyed your Armies, wee haue wasted your fields, sacked your Cities, spoyled your subiects, or fauoured your enemies? so that to reuenge these iniuries yee should destroy our land: If wee had bin your neighbours, or you ours, it had been no maruell though one should haue destroyed the other. For it chaunceth oftentimes, that through controuersie of a little peece of ground, tedious warres betweene people arise.
Of a truth none of these thinges which I haue named, hath chaunced betweene ye Romains and vs Germains. For in Germany wee felte your tyranny, as soone as wee heard of your renowne.
If yee bee grieued with that I haue sayde, I pray you bee not offended with that I will say, which is, that the name of Romanes, and the cruelty of tyrants arriued together in one day vpon our people. And what more to say, I know not Romanes, of the litle care the Gods doe take, and of the great audacitie that men haue: For I see that hee which possesseth much, doth oppresse him which hath but little, and he that hath but little, wayeth not him that hath much.
So disordered couetousnesse striueth with secret malice, and secret malice giueth place to open theft & open robbery no man resisteth, and thereof commeth, that the couetousnesse of a malitious man is accomplished, to the preiudice of a whole state.
Hearken yee Romanes, hearken, by the Immortall Gods I doe coniure you, giue care to that I will say, which is, consider well what you haue done: for the good wordes bee in vaine, or else men must haue an end, the world in time must needes fall, or else the world shall be no world. Fortune must needs make sure the pinne of the wheele, or else that shall bee seene which neuer was seene, which is, that which in eight yeares ye haue wonne, yee shall within eight dayes lose: For nothing can bee more iust, [Page 367] since yee by force haue made your selues tyrants: then the Gods by iustice should make you slaues. And doe not thinke you Romanes though you haue subdued Germany, and bee Lords thereof, that it was by any warlike industry: for ye are no more warlike, no more couragious, nor more hardy, ne yet more valiant then wee Germaines: but since through our offences wee haue prouoked the Gods to wrath, they for the punishment of our disordinate vices ordained, that ye should be a cruel plague and scourge to our persons, Do not take your selues to be strong, neither repute vs to bee so weake, that if the Gods at that time had fauoured the one part, as much as the other: it might perchance haue happened, yee should not haue enioyed the spoyle. For to say the truth, yee wanne not the victory through the force of weapons that you brought from Rome, but through the infinite vices which yee found in Germany.
Therefore since wee were not ouercome for being cowards, neyther for being weake, nor yet for beeing fearefull, but onely for being wicked, and not hauing the Gods fauourable vnto vs: what hope yee Romanes to become of you, beeing as you are vicious, and hauing the Gods angrie with you?
Doe nor thinke Romanes to be the more victorious, for that ye assemble great Armies, or that yee abound in treasures, neither for that you haue greater Gods in your ayd, or that yee build greater temples, nor yet for that yee offer such great sacrifices: For I let you know, if you doe not know it, that no man is in more fauour with the Gods, then he which is at peace with vertue.
If the triumphes of the Conquerours consisteth in nothing else but in subtill wittes, politique captains, valiant Souldiers, and great Armies, without doubt, it would little auayle to carry all this to the Warre, since afterwardes wee see by experience, Man may giue the battell, but God must giue the victorie. that men can doe no more but giue the battels, and the Gods themselues must giue the victories.
If I be not deceyued, I thinke that for our offences we haue sufficiently satisfied the Gods wrath. But truely I beleeue that the cruelties which yee haue done vnto vs, and the vnthankfulnesse which you haue shewed the Gods (though as yet yee haue not payed it) yet once yee shall pay it.
And hereafter it may chance, that as presently yee count vs for slaues: so in time to come yee shall acknowledge vs for Lords. Since the trauelling by the way, I haue seene the high mountaines, diuers Prouinces, sundry Nations, Countries so sauage, people so barbarous, such and so many miles as Germany is distant from Rome.
I muse what fond toye came into the Romanes heads, to send to conquer Germany? If couetousnesse of treasures caused it, I am sure they spent more money to conquer it, and at this present doe spende to keepe it, then the whole reuenues of Germany amounteth, or may amount in many yeares: and perchaunce they may lose it, before they recouer that they spent to conquer it.
And if yee say vnto me Romanes, that Germany is not conquered of Rome for euer, but that onely Rome should haue the glory to be Mistresse of Germany: This also, I say is vanitie and folly: For little auayleth it haue the Forts and Castles of the people, when the hearts of the Inhabitants are absent.
If yee say, that therefore yee conquered Germany, to amplifie and enlarge the limits and bounds of Rome: also mee thinketh this is a foolish enterprise. [Page 363] For it is not the point of wise and valiaunt men to enlarge their dominions, and diminish their honours. If ye say ye sent to conquere vs, to the end wee should not be barbarous, nor liue like Tyrants, but that you would wee should liue after your good lawes and customes: if it bee so, I am well content. But how is it possible yee should giue lawes to straungers, when yee breake the Lawes of your owne predecessours? Great shame ought they to haue which take vpon them to correct others, when they haue more neede to bee corrected themselues: For the blinde man ought not to take vpon him to leade the lame. If this be true, (as presently it is) what reason, or occasion had prowde Rome, to take and conquer the innocent Germanes? Let vs all go therfore to robbe, to kill, to conquer, and to spoyle, since we see the world so corrupt, & so farre from the loue of God, that euery man (as we may perceyue) taketh what he can, killeth whom hee will, and that which worste of all is, that neyther those which gouerne will remedie so manie euills as are committed, neyther those which are offended dare complaine.
Ye chiefe iudges at this day are so harde to be intreated, yee take so little Iniury done wher iustice is neglected regard vnto the poore oppressed: that they thinke it more quiet, to remaine in trouble at home, then to come and put vp their complaintes before you, here at Rome.
And the cause hereof is, that there in theyr Countrey they haue but one which pursueth them: and heere in this Senate they are euill willed of all, and that is; because hee which complaineth is poor, and the other which is complained on is rich.
Therefore since Fortune would it, and the fatall Destinies permit it, that the proud Rome should be mistresse of our Germanie, it is but reason ye should keepe vs in iustice, and maintaine vs in peace. But you doe not so, but rather those which come thither, doe take from vs our goods: and yee that are heere, doe robbe vs of our good name, saying: That since we are a people without law: without reason: and without a king, (as vnknowne barbarous) yee may take vs for slaues.
In this case ye Romaines are greatly deceyued: For me thinketh with reason, ye cannot call vs without reason: since wee being such as we are, and as the Gods created vs, remaine in our proper countreys, without desiring to seeke or invade forreine Realmes. For with more reason wee might say, that yee were men without reason: being not contented with the sweet and fertile Italie; but through shedding of bloud, you should desire to conquer all the earth. In that yee say wee deserue to be slaues, because we haue no Prince to command vs, nor Senate to: gouerne vs, nor Armey to defende vs to this I will answere:
That since wee had no enemies, we needed no Armeys: and sith euery man is contented with his lotte and Fortune, wee had no necessitie of a proude Senate to gouerne vs, and we being as we are all equall, it neede not An Apologie of the viilaine. wee should consent to haue any Princes amongst vs. For the office of princes is, to suppresse tyrants, & to maintaine their people in peace.
If yee say further, that wee haue not in our Countrey a Common-wealth, nor pollicie, but that wee liue as the beasts in the Mountaines: in this also you haue but small reason. For we in our Countrey did suffer no lyers, neyther rebells, nor seditious persons: nor men that broght vs (from strange Countreys) any apparell for to be vicious: so that sith in apparell we were honest, and in meate very temperate, wee needed no better behauiour. For though in our countrey there are no merchaunts of Carthage, oyles of [Page 369] Mauritania, marchants of Tyre, steele of Cantabria, Odours of Asia, Gold of Spaine, Siluer of Britaine, Amber of Sidonie, Silke of Damasco, Corne of Scicill, Wine of Candie, Purple of Arabia: yet for all this we are not brutish, neyther cease for to haue a Common-Wealth.
For these and such other the like things, giue more occasion to stirre vp many vices, then for vertuous men to liue according vnto vertue. Blessed and happy is the Common-Wealth, not where great riches aboundeth, but where vertues are highly commended: not where many light and angry men resort, but where the patient are resident: therefore it followeth, that of the Common wealth of Rome for beeing rich, wee should haue pitty: and of the Common-Wealth of Germany for being poore, yee ought not to haue enuye.
Would to God that the contentation wee haue with our pouerty, yee others had the same with your riches. For then neyther ye had robbed vs of our Countries, nor we had not come hither now to complaine in Rome of your tyranny.
I see Romanes, that the one differeth much from the other: For ye others, though yee heare our oppressions, yet thereby you lose not your pastime: but wee others can neuer drye the teares of our eyes, nor ceale to bewayle our infinit misfortunes.
CHAP. V. The Villaine concludeth his Oration against the Iudges, which minister not iustice, and declareth how preiudiciall such wicked men are vnto the publike weale.
YEe would thinke I haue sayde that I Conclusion of the villains speech wherein he reproueth the Roman Magistrates. can say, but certainly it is not so: For there remaineth many thinges to speake, which to heare yee will bee astonied, yet be ye assured that to speake them I will not bee afrayde, sith you others in doing them are not ashamed. For open offence deserueth not secret correction. I maruell much at yee Romaines, what yee meant to send vs (as you did) such ignorant Iudges, the which, by the immortall God I swear, can neyther declare vs your Lawes, and much lesse they can vnderstand ours. And the cause of all this euill is, that yee sent not those which be best able to minister to vs iustice in Germany, but those which haue best friendes with you in Rome, presuppose that to those of the Senate, yee giue the office of Censor-ship, more for importunity then for ability. It is little that I can say heere, in respect they dare do there: That which yee commaund them here, I know not: but of the which they doe there: I am not ignorant, which is; Your Iudges take al bribes that are brought vnto them openly: and they powle and shaue as much as they can secretly. They grieuously punish the offences of the poore, and dissemble with the faults of the rich: they consent to many euils, to haue occasion to commit [Page 370] greater thefts, they forget the gouernment of the people to take theyr pleasure in vice. And beeing there to mittigate sclaunders, they are those which are moste sclaunderous: and without goods, it auayleth to man to aske iustice. And finally, vnder the colour that they be Iudges of Rome, they feare not to rob all the land of Germanie: What meaneth this yee Romanes: shall your pride neuer haue end in cō māding, nor your couetise in robbing Say vnto vs what ye will in words, but oppresse vs not so in deeds. If you do it for our children, loade them with yrons, & make them slaues. For ye cannot charge them with more then they are able to carry: but of commandements and tributs ye giue vs more thē wee are eyther able to carrie or suffer. If you do it for our goods, go thither and take them all. For in our countrey we doe not vse as ye Romanes doe, nor haue such conditions as ye haue here in Rome, For yee desire to liue poore, that ye may die rich. If ye say that we will rebell, I maruell what yee should meane to thinke so, sith yee haue spoyled vs, robbed vs, and handled vs yll. Assure me ye Romaines, that ye wil not vnpeople vs, and I will assure you we will not rebell. If our seruice doe not content yee, strike off our heads, as to the euil men. For (to tell ye the truth) the knife shall not be so fearfull to our neckes, as your tyrannies be abhorred The tyrannie of the Romanes to the Germanes. in our hearts.
Doe ye know what you haue done ye Romains, yee haue caused vs of that miserable realme to sweare, neither to dwell with our wiues, and to sley our owne children, rather then to leaue them in the handes of so wicked and cruell tirants as yee be. As desperate men we haue determined to suffer, & endure the beastly motiōs of the flesh during the time we haue to liue, to the ende wee will not get our wiues with child. For we had rather liue chast 20 or 30. yeares, then to leaue our childrē perpetuall slaues. If it be true that the children must endure, that which the miserable fathers doe suffer? It is not onely good to sley them, but also it should bee better, not to agree they shold be borne. Ye ought not to doe this Romanes, for the lād taken by force ought the better to bee gouerned: to the intent that the miserable captiues seing iustice duly administred presently, should thereby forget the tyrannie passed, & content themselues with per petuall seruitude. And sith it is true, that we are come to complaine of the oppressions which your Officers doe, here vpon the riuer of Danuby, peradnenture yee which are of the Senate, will heare vs: and thogh you are now determined to heare vs, yet you are slow to remedy vs: so that before ye began to reforme an euil custome, the whole common-wealth is already vndone. I will tell you of some things therof, to thintent you may know thē, and then to reforme them. If there come a right poore man to demaund Iustice, hauing no money to giue, nor wine to present, nor Oyle to promise, not friends to helpe him, nor reuenues to succour him, and maintaine him in expences: after he hath complayned, they satisfie him with words, saying vnto him, that speedily hee shall haue Iustice.
What will you I should say, but that in the meane time, they make him spend that little which he hath, and giue him nothing though hee demaund much, they giue him vaine hope, and they make him waste the best of his life, euery one of them doth promise him fauour, and afterwards they all lay hands vpon him to oppresse him. The most of them say his right is good, and afterwards they giue sentence against him, so that the miserable person that came to complaine of one, returneth [Page 371] home complaining of all, cursing his cruell destinies, and crying out to the iust and mercifull Gods for reuengement. It chanceth also that oft times there commeth to complaine heere in the Senate, some flattering man more for malice, then by reason of right or iustice: and yee Senatours crediting his double wordes and his fained teares, immediately ordaine a Censor, to goe, and giue audience on their complaints who being gone and returned, yee seeke more to remedie, and giue eare to the complaints of the iudge, then to the slanders which were among the people. I will declare vnto you my selfe, O ye Romanes, and thereby you shall see how they passe their life in my country. I liue by gathering akorns in the winter, and reaping corn in the sommer, sometime I fish as well of necessity, as of pleasure, so that I passe almost all my life alone in the fields or mountaines. And if you know not why, heare me, and I will shew you. I see such tiranny in your iudges, and such robberies as they commit amōg the poore people, and there are such dissentions in the realme, such iniuries committed therein, the poor cō mon wealth is so spoyled, there are so few that haue desire to do good, and also there are so few that hope for remedy in the Senate, that I am determined (as most vnhappy) to banish my selfe out of mine own house, and to separate my selfe from my sweete company, to the end my eyes should not behold so miserable a change: for I had rather wander solitary in the fields, then to see my neighbours hourely to lament in the streets. For there the cruell beastes do not offend me, vnlesse I do assault them: but the cursed men though I do serue them, yet dayly they vexe mee: without doubt it is a maruellous paine to suffer an ouerthrow of fortune: but it is a greater torment when one feeleth it without remedy. And yet my greatest griefe is, when my losse may bee remedied, and he which may, wil not: and he that wil, cannot by any means remedy it. O cruell Romanes, yee feele nothing that we feele, specially I that speake it, ye shal see how I feele it, only to reduce it to memory, my tongue wil waxe weary, my ioints shiuer, my hart trembles, and my flesh consumeth. What a woful thing is it, in my country to see it, with my eies, to hear Here the villaine layeth open the miserable estate of his Country. with my eares, & to feele it with my hands? Truly the griefes which woful Germany suffers are such, & so many: that I beleeue yet the mercifull gods will haue pitty vpon vs. I desire you not to think slander of my words: but I desire you that you would vnderstād wel what I say: for you imagining (as you presume to be discreet) shall see right well the troubles that come to vs from men, & among men, with mē and by the hands of men: it is a small matter that we as men do feele them speaking: for according to truth, and also with liberty, if I should declare euery other iust aduertisement which came from the Senate, & the tirannie which your iudges commit in the miserable Realme: one of these two things must ensue, eyther the punishment of men, or the depriuation of your Officers, if I say true.
One thing onely comforteth me, wherof I with other infortunate people haue had experience, in that I doe thinke my selfe happy, to know, that the iust plagues proceede not from the iust Gods, but through the iust deserts of wicked men: And that our secret fault doeth waken those to the end that they of vs may execute open iustice. Of one thing only I am sore troubled, because the Gods cannot be contented, but for a small fault they punish a good man much: and for many faultes they [Page 372] punish euill men nothing at al, so that the Gods doe beare with the one, and forgiue nothing vnto the other.
O secret iudgements of God, that as I am bound to prayse your workes, so likewise if I had licence to condemne them, I durst say, that ye cause vs to suffer grieuous paines, for that yee punish and persecute vs by the hands of such Iudges, the which (if iustice take place in the World) when they chastice vs with their hands, they doe not deserue for to haue their heades on their shoulders,
The cause why now againe, I doe exclaime on the immortall Gods, is to see, that in these 15. dayes I haue beene at Rome, I haue seene such deedes done in your Senate, that if the least of them had beene done at Danuby, the Gallowes and gibbets had beene hanged thicker of theeues, then the vineyard is with grapes. I am determined to see your doings, to speake of your dishonesty in apparrel your little temperance in eating, and your disorder in affayres, and your pleasures in liuing: and on the other side, I see, that when your prouision arriueth in our Country, wee carry into the temples, and offer it to the Gods, wee put it on their heads: so that the one meeting with the other, wee accomplish that which is commaunded, and accurse those that commaunded, And sith therefore my heart hath now seen that which it desireth, my mind is at rest, in spitting out the poyson which in it abideth: If I haue in any thing heere offended with my tong, I am ready to make recompēce with my head. For in good faith, I had rather winne honour, in offering my selfe to death, then you should haue it in taking from me my life.
And heere the villaine ended his talke, immediately after Marcus Aurelius sayde to those which were aboute him: How thinke yee my friendes, what kernell of a nut, what The commendation that the Emperour gaue of the Oration of the villaint. golde of the mine, what corne of straw, what rose of bryers, what mary of bones, and how noble and valiant a man hath he shewed himselfe? What reasons so hie, what words so well couched, what truth so true, what sentences so well pronounced, and also what open malice hath hee discored? By the faith of a good man I sweare, as I may bee deliuered from this feuer which I haue, I saw this villaine standing boldly a whole houre on his feet, and all we beholding the earth as amazed, could not answere him one word: For indeede the villaine confuted vs with his purpose, & astonyed vs; to see the little regarde he bad of his life.
The Senate afterwardes beeing all agreede, the next day following, wee prouided new Iudges for the riuer of Danuby, and commaunded the villaine to deliuer vs by writing, all that he sayde by mouth, to the end it might bee registred in the booke of good saying of strangers, which were in the Senate.
And further, it was agreede, that the saide villaine (for the wise words hee spake) should be chosen Senator, and of the Free men of Rome he shold bee one: and that for euer he should bee sustained with the common treasure. For our mother Rome hath alwayes beene praysed and esteemed not onely to acquite the seruices' which haue beene done vnto her, but' also the good words which were spoken in the Senate.
CHAP.. VI. That Princes and Noble men ought to be very circumspect in choosing Iudges and Officers, for therein consisteth the profite of the publike weale.
ALexander the great (as the Historiographers say) in his youth vsed hunting very much specially of the mountaines, & that which is to be marueled at, he would not hunt Deare, Goates, Hares, nor Partridges; but Tygers, Leopardes, Elephants, Crocodils, and Lions. So that this mighty Prince, did not onely shew the excellency of his courage in conquering proud Princes, but also in chasing of cruell & sauage beasts.
Plutarch in his Apothegmes sayeth, that the great Alexander had a familiar seruant, named Crotherus, to whome oftentimes hee spake these wordes:
I let thee to vnderstand Crotherus, That the valiant Princes ought not onely to be vpright in their realm which they gouerne: but also to bee The speech of King Alexander the great. circumspect in pastimes which they vse, that the authoritie which in the one they haue woune, in the other they doe not lose.
When Alexander spake these words, truely hee was of more authority then of yeares: But in the ende he gaue this example, more to bee followed, and commaunded, then to bee reproued or blamed, I say to be followed, not in the hunting that he exercised, but in the great courage which hee shewed. To the Plebeians and men of discretion, it is a little thing, that in one matter they shew their might, and in other things their small power is known: but to princes and great Lords, it is a discommendable thing, that in earnest matters any man should accuse them of pride, and in things of sport, they should count them for light. For the Noble and valiant Prince, in thinges of importance, ought to shew great wisdome, and in meane things great stoutenes.
The case was such, that Alexander the Great, hunting on the wilde mountaines, by chance met with a cruell Lyon, and as the good Prince The greate courage of Alexner would winne his honor with the Lyon, and also the Lyon preserue his owne life, they were in griepes the one of the other so fast, that both fell to the earth, where they striued almost halfe an houre, but in the ende the Lyon remayned there dead, and the hardy Alexander escaped all bloudy.
This hunting of Alexander and the Lyon through all Greece was greatly renowmed: I say greatly renowned, because the Grauers and Painters drew a portrait forthwith in stoneworke, of this hunting, and the grauers hereof were Lisippus and Leocarcus maruellous grauers of anticke workes, which they made of mettall, where they liuely set forth Alexander and the Lyon fighting, and also a familiar seruant of his named Crotherus, being among the dogges beholding them. So that the worke seemed not onely to represent an ancient thing: but that the Lyon, Alexander, Crotherus, and the dogges, seemed also to bee aliue in the same chase.
When Alexander fought with the Lyon, there came an Ambassadour from Sparthes to Macedonie, who spake to Alexander these Wordes.
Would to God, (Immortall prince) [Page 374] That the force you haue vsed with the lyon, in the mountain, you had employed against some Pr: for to be lord of the earth.
By the words of the Embassadour, and the deedes of Alexander, may easily bee gathered: That as it is comely for Princes to bee honest, valiant, and stout: so to the contrary, it is vnseemly for them to be bolde and rash: For though Princes of theyr goods be liberall, yet of their life they ought not to be prodigall.
The diuine Plato in the tenth booke of his laws, saith: that the two renowmed Phylosophers of Thebes, whose names were Adon and Clinias, fell at variance with themselues, to knowe in what thing the Prince is bound to aduenture his life?
Clinias saide, that hee ought to The phylosophers speech concerning the honour of Princes. die, for any thing touching his honor, Adon saide the contrarie. That hee should not hazard his life, vnlesse it were for matters touching the affaires of the cōmonwealth. Plato saith, those two philosophers had reason, in that they said: but admit that occasion to dye should be offered the Prince: for the one, or the other:: he ought rather to die for that thing touching iustice, then for the thing touching his honor: For there is no great differēce, to die more for the one, then for the other.
Applying that wee haue spoken, to that we will speake: I say, that we doe not desire, nor we will not, that Princes and great lords doe destroy themselues with Lions in the chace, neither aduenture their persons in the warres, nor that they put theyr liues in perill, for the cōmon-weale: But wee onely require of them, that they take some paines and care to prouide for thinges belonging to iustice. For it is a more naturall hunting for Princes, to hunt out the vices of their commonweales, then to hunt the wilde boares, in the thicke woods. To the end Princes accomplish this which we haue spoken we will not aske them time when they ought to eate sleepe, hunt, sporte, and recreate themselues: but that of the 24 houres that bee in the day and night, they take it for a pleasure and commodity one houre to talke of iustice. The gouernment of the comonweale consisteth not, in that they should trauell vntill they sweate and molest their bodyes, shead their bloud, shorten theyr liues, and loose their pastimes: but all consisteth, in that they should be diligent to foresee the dammages of their common-wealth, and likewise to prouide for good mimisters of iustice.
Wee doe not demaund Princes and great Lordes to giue vs their goods; Nor wee forbidde them not to eate, to forsake sleepe, or sport, to hunt, or put their liues in daunger: but we desire and beseeche them, that they would prouide good ministers of iustice for the common-weale.
First, they ought to be very diligent to search them out, and afterwards, to be more circūspect to examin them: For if wee sigh with teares, to haue good Princes, we ought much more to pray that we haue not euil officers.
What profiteth it the knight to be nimble, and if the horse be not ready? What auayleth it the owner of the ship to be sage and expert, if the Pilot be a foole and ignorant? What profiteth the king to be valiant and stout, & the captain of the warre to be a coward? I meane by this I haue spoken, what profiteth it a prince to be honest if those which minister iustice bee dissolute? What profiteth it vs that the Prince be true, if his Officers be lyers. what profiteth it vs that the Pr: be sober, if his ministers be drūkards? what profiteth it that the P: be gentle, & louing, if his officers be cruell & malicious? what profiteth it vs, that the Pr: be a giuer, liberall, and an almes-man, if the iudge which ministreth justice, be a briber, and an open Theefe?
[Page 375] What profiteth it the prince to bee carefull and vertuous, if the Iudge bee negligent and vicious? Finally, I say, that it little auayleth, that the prince in his house be secretly iust, if adioyning to that hee trust a tirant & open theefe with the gouernment of the Common-weale.
Princes and great Lords, when they are within their pallaces at pleasure, their mindes occupied in high things, doe not receyue into theyr secret company but their entire friends.
Another time they will not, but occupie themselues in pastimes and pleasure: so that they know not what they haue to amend in their persons, and much lesse that which they ought to remedy in their common-weales: I will not bee so eager in reprouing, neyther so Satyricall in writing, that it should seeme I would perswade princes, that they liue not according to the highnesse of their estates, but according to the life of the religious: for if they wil keepe themselues from being tyrants, or being outragiously vitious, we cannot deny them sometimes to take their pleasures. But my intention is not, so straightly to commaund Princes to be iust, but only to shew them how they are bound to doe iustice. Common-wealthes are not lost, for that their princes liue in pleasure: but because they haue little care of iustice. In the end, people doe not murmur when the Prince doth recreate his person, but when he is too slacke to cause iustice to be executed.
I would to God, that Princes took an account with God in the things of their conscience, touching the common wealth, as they doe with men The saying of Plutarch to Traian the Emperour. touching their rents and reuenues. Plutarch in an Epistle hee wrote to Traian the Emperor saith. It pleaseth mee very well, most: puissant prince, that the Prince be such one, as al may say that in him there is nothing worthy of reprehension: but adding therunto, It displeaseth me much more, that he should haue so euill Iudges, that all should say, in them were nothing worthy of commendation: For the faults of Princes very well may be excused: but the offences of the officers can by no meanes bee endured. Many princes and great Lords deceiue themselus, in thinking that they do their duety in that they be vertuous in their persons, but it is not so: for it sufficeth not a prince to draw vnto him all vertues, but also hee is bound to root all vices out of the cō mon wealth. Admit that princes will not, or of themselues cannot govern the common-wealth; yet let vs desire and admonish them to seeke good Officers to doe it for them: For the poore Plebeian hath no account to render but of his good or euil life: but the prince shall render account of his vitious life which he hath led, and of the little care that he hath had of his common wealth. Seneca in an Epistle he wrote to Lucilla, sayth. My deare friend Lucilla, I would gladly thou Good admonitions of Seneca to his friend Lucilla. wouldest come and see me heere in Rome,: but I pray thee recommend to good Iudges the Isle of Scicile; for I would not desire to enioy thy sight, if through my occasion thou shouldest leaue the Common-wealth out of order. And to the entent thou mayest know what conditions they ought to haue, whom thou shouldest choose for Gouernors or Iudges: I will let thee vnderstand, that they ought to be graue in their sentences, iust in their wordes, honest in their workes, mercifull in their iustice; and aboue all, not corrupted with bribes. And if I do aduertise thee of this, it is because if thou diddest take care to gouerne thy Commonwealth well, thou shouldest now bee [Page 376] circumspect to examine them, vnto whom presently thou must recommend the gouernement thereof. I would say afterwardes, that all that which the ancient philosophers haue written in many books, and haue left by diuers sentences.
Seneca did rehearse in these few wordes: the which are so graue and necessarie, that if Princes retayned them in their memory, to put them in execution, and Iudges had them Graue sentences of Seneca. before their eyes for to accomplish them, they would excuse the common wealth of diuers slaunders, and they should also deliuer themselues from a great burthen of their conscience.
It is not a thing voluntary, but necessary, that the ministers of iustice be vertuous, well established, and very honest: For to Iudges nothing can bee more slaunderous and hurtfull, then when they should reproue young men of their youth: others may iustly reprehend them of theyr lightnesse.
He which hath a publike Office in the Common wealth, and sitteth openly to iudge therein, ought to obserue a good order in his person, lest hee bee noted dissolute in his doing: For the Iudge which is without honesty, and consideration ought to consider with himselfe, that if hee alone haue authoritie to iudge of other mens goods, that there are a thousand which will iudge of his life.
It is not onely a burden of Conscience to princes, to committe the charge of gouernance of the people to dissolute persons: but also it is a great contempt, and disprayse of Iustice: For the sentence giuen of him who deserueth to bee iudged, is among the people little esteemed.
Plutarch in his Apothegmes sayeth, that Philip King of Macedonie, Father of the Great Alexander, created for Iudge of a prouince, a friend of his, who after hee saw himselfe in such office, occupyed himselfe more in kemming his head, then in working or studying his bookes,
King Philip being enformed of the vanitie and insolency of this Iudge, reuoked the power which he had giuen him, and when hee complayned to all of the wrong and griefe which was done vnto him, taking his office from him, K. Philip sayde vnto him: If I had giuen the office to thee for none other cause but being my friend; beleeue mee The speech of King Philip. that nothing in the world could haue sufficed to haue taken it from thee, because I louing thee so entirely as I did, reason would not I should haue depriued thee of this office, wherewith I honoured thee, I gaue thee this office, thinking that thou werte vertuous, sage, honest, and also a man well occupied, and me thinketh thou rather occupiest thy selfe in beholding thy person, thē in gouerning well my Common-wealth: which thou oughtest not to consent vnto and much lesse doe in deed: for the Iudge ought to bee so occupied, in the administration of the Common wealth, that hee should haue no leasure at any time for to combe his heade.
These wordes the good Philip spake vnto the Iudge, whom hee displaced of his office, for beeing too fine & diligent in combing his head, and trimming his person. It is not onely decent for ministers of Iustice to bee graue and honest, but also it behoueth them to bee true and faithfull: For to Iudge, whose office is to iudge the truth, there can bee no greater infamie, then to be counted a lyer.
When two Plebeyans bee at variance together for one thing, they [Page 377] come before the iudge for naught els, but that hee should iudge, who hath right and iustice therevnto. Therefore if such a Iustice bee not counted true, but a lyer, all take his iudgement for false: so that if the plaintife hath no more power, hee will obey iustice, yet at the least he will blaspheme him that gaue sentence.
There are some Iudges, that presently to get more money, to drawe vnto them more friends, and to continue also in their Offices, vse such shamefull shifts with the poore plaintifes, and take such large bribes of the defendant: that both partyes are by himselfe assured of the Sentence, in their fauour, before hee come vnto the Barre.
Many goe to the houses of Iudges, some to demaund, others to giue instructions, others to worke deceyte, others to win them, others to importune What ma [...] ter of men Iudges and Officers ought to be thē, but few to go to visite them: so that for those and such semblables, I doe aduise, and admonish Officers, that they be iust in their sentences, & vpright in their wordes.
The ministers of Iustice ought to be such, and so good, that in their life nothing be worthie of rebuke: neyther in their words any thing worthy of reproche. For, if heerein they be not very circumspect, oftentimes that shall happen, which the Gods vvould not, which is: that to the preiudice of the iustice of another, hee shall denie the words of himselfe.
It sufficeth not Iudges to be true in their words: but it is very necessarie that they bee vpright in their sentences. That is to say, that for loue they bee not too large, neyther for couetousnes they should be corrupted, nor for feare drawne backe, nor with prayers to bee flattered, nor with promises blinded: For otherwise, it were a great shame and inconuenience, that the Yarde which they carrie in theyr hands should bee streight, and the life which they lead should be very crooked. To the end Iustices be vpright, they ought much to trauell to bee liberall: I meane in things wherein they ought to giue sentence.
It is vnpossible that those which haue respect in theyr sentences to fauour their Friendes, should not accustomably vse to bee reuenged of theyr enemyes. Truely, such a Iudge ought not to bee called iust: but a priuate tyrant. Hee that with affection iudgeth, and passion punisheth, is greatly deceyued.
Those in like manner, which haue authority to gouerne, and doe thinke that for borrowing a little of Iustice, they should therby encrease and multiplie friends in the common wealth, are much abused: For this acte before men is so heynous, and before GOD so detestable, that though for a space he refraine his hands, yet in the ende hee will extend his power. For, the Redeemer of the world, onely Father of Trueth, will not permit that such doe take vppon them the title of Iustice, which in their Offices do shew so extreame wrong.
Helius Spartianus, in the life of Anthonius saith: that the good Emperour going to visite his Empire (as he was in Capua,) and there demaunding of the state of the Censours, whether they were vniust or rightfull? A man of Capua saide in this wise: By the immortall Gods, most noble Prince, I sweare, that this Iudge who presently gouerneth here, is neither iust, nor honest: and therefore mee thinks it necessarie that wee depriue him of his dignitie, and I will recount vnto thee, what befell betweene him and mee: I besought him that for my sake, hee would graunt me foure things, which were all vniust, and hee willingly condescended therevnto: wherof I had no lesse maruell in my hart, then vexation [Page 378] in my bodie. For, when I did desire him, I thought nothing lesse then to obtaine them, but only for the contentation of those which instantly desired me to doe it.
And further, this Capuan saide; By the God Genius, I sweare likewise, that I was not the more friendly vnto him, for that he sayde he did it for my sake, more then for another: For hee that to mee would graunt these foure, it is to bee beleeued, that vnto others hee would graunt them foure hundreth: What is requyred in an vpright iudge. For the which, thou oughtest to prouide most noble Prince, because good Iudges ought to be patient to heare, and iust to determine.
By this notable example, Iudges ought to haue a great respect, not to those which doe desire them: but to that which they demaund. For in doing their duty, their enemyes will proclaime them iust: and contrary wise, if they doe that they should not doe, their nearest friends wil account them as tyrants.
Iudges which pretend fauour vnto the common-wealth; and to bee carefull of their consciences, ought not to content themselues simply to doe Iustice: but that of themselues they should haue such an opinion, that none durste presume to come and require at their hands, any vile or dishonest thing. For otherwise, if we note the demaunder to bee vnshamefaste, we must needes somewhat suspect the Iudge in his iustice.
Princes ought also to bee very circumspect that the Iudges be not onelie contented to bee iust, honest, and true: but also in them there ought to remaine no auarice, nor couetousnes. For Iustice and Auarice can seldome dwell in one house.
Those that haue the charge of the gouernement of the people, and to iudge causes ought to take great heed, that with bribes and presentes they be not corrupted: For it is vnpossible, but that the same day that Riches and Treasures in the houses of Iudges begin to increase, that the same day, the true administration of Iustice, should not decay.
Lycurgus, Prometheus, and Numa Pompylius did prohibite nothing in their Law so much, neyther for any other cause they ordained so many punishments: but to the intent Iudges should not bee so couetous, nor yet thieues. And of truth they had great consideration, to foresee and forbid it: For the iudge that hath receyued parte of the Thefte, will not giue sentence against the stealers thereof.
Let not iudges be credited for saying they receyue no siluer nor golde, neyther silkes, nor iewells: but that they take onely small presentes, as fruites, fowles, and other trifles.
For oftentimes it chaunceth, that the iudges doe eate the fruite, and the poore Suter doeth feele the morsell: Cicero in the booke of lawes saith, that Cato the Censor beeing very aged, the Senators said vnto him one day in the Senate. Thou knowest now Cato, that presently wee are in the Calendes of Ianuary; wherein wee vse to deuide the Offices among the people. Wherefore wee haue determined to create Manlius and Calidanus Censors, for this yeare: wherefore tell vs (as thou thinkest) if they be able and sufficient to supplye the rowme? Cato the Censour answered them in this wise.
Fathers conscript, I let you knowe, The wise answere of Cato. that I do not receyue the one, nor admit the other: For, Manlius is very rich, and Calidanus the citizen extream poore, and truly in both there is great perill. For we see by experience, that the rich Officers are too much subiect to pleasures: and the poore Officers are too much giuen to auarice. And further, hee said in this case, me thinketh that your Iudges whom yee ought [Page 379] to chuse, should not bee so extreame poore, that they should want wherewith to care: neither so rich, that they should surmount in superfluity, to giue themselus too much to pleasurs: For men by great aboundance become vitious, and by great scarcitie become couetous.
The Censor Cato beeing of such authoritie, it is but reason that wee giue credite to his words, since hee gouerned the Romane Empire so long space, though in deed all the poore bee not couetous, nor all the rich vitious: yet hee spake it for this intent, because both those Romans were noted of these two vices: For the poore they desire to scrape, and scratch: and the rich to enioy and keepe.
Which of those two sortes of men Princes should chuse: I cannot, nor dare not rashly determine. And therefore I doe not counsell them, eyther to despise the poore, or to Cato his aduise in choosing Officers. chuse the rich: but that they giue the authoritie of iustice to those, whom they know to bee of good conscience, and not subiect to couetousnesse. For the iudge, whose Conscience is corrupted, it is vnpossible hee should minister equall iustice.
A man may giue a shrewde guesse of suspition in that iudge, whether hee bee of brittle conscience, or no, if hee see him procure the office of iustice for himselfe: For that man which willingly procureth the charge of conscience of another: commonly little regardeth the burthen of his owne.
CHAP. VII. Of a Letter which the Emperour Marcus Aurelius wrote to Antigonus his friend, answering another which hee sent him out of Scicile, wherein hee aduertised him of the cruelty of the Romane Iudges, and this Letter is diuided into v. Chapters.
MArcus Aurelius, companion in the Empire, Tribune of the people, presently A Letter of Marcus Aurelius to his friend Antigonus. being sicke wisheth vnto thee Antigonus health & comfort in the banishment. To flye the extreame heate of Rome, and to reade some bookes which are brought mee from the realme of Palestine; I am come hither to Capua: and for the haste I made to ride great iourneyes, the Ague hath ouertaken me, which is more troublesome then perillous: For it taketh me with cold, and plucketh my appetite from me.
The 20, day of Ianuary I receyued thy second letter, and it hapned that thy letter and my feuer tooke mee both at one instant: but the feuer grieeued me in such wise, that I could not long endure to reade thy letter: Mee thinketh wee haue no stay nor meane, thou beeing so briefe, and I so long: for my long letter hath taken thy grieuous sorrows from mee, but thy short letter could not take my feuer from me: now that my mind is beating of thy trauell, the desire that I haue to remedy it, is enflamed: I would tel thee one thing, & succor thee with som counsel, but I find that the consolation which thou wantest, I cannot giue thee, and that which I can giue thee, thou needest not.
[Page 380] In this letter shall not be written that which was in the first: but herein I will trauell the best I can to answer thee. I wil not occupie my self to comfort thee, because I am so out of course with this disease, that I haue neyther will to write, ne yet any fauour in any pleasant things. If perhaps this letter bee not sauoury, nor compendious, neither so comfortable as those which I was wōt to write vnto thee: attribute not the blame vnto my good will, which desireth to serue thee, but to the sicknes that giueth no place thereunto. For it sufficeth the sicke to be contented with medicines, without satisfying theyr friendes.
If thy comfort consisted in writing many letters, and offering thee many words: truely I would not sticke to doe that for my feuer: but it neither profiteth thee, nor satisfieth mee, since I haue little, to proffer thee much. Talking now of this matter, I doe remember, that the ancient lawes of the Rhodians sayd these words.
We desire and admonish all men, to visite the Captiues, the Pilgrimes, and the comfortlesse: and further we Ancient lawes obserued among the Rhodians. ordaine and commaund that none in the Common wealth be so hardy to giue counsell, vnlesse therewith hee giue remedy: For to the troubled heart words comforteth little, when in them there is no remedy. Of a truth, the Law of the Rhodians is good, and the Romane which shall obserue them much better. Assure thy self that I am very desirous to see thee: and also I know that thou wouldest as gladly speake vnto me, to recount mee all thy griefes.
Truely I doe not maruell, because the wounded heart quieteth himselfe more, declaring his owne griefes, thē hearing another mans consolations. Thou writest vnto me of sūdry things in thy letter, the effect whereof, that thou certifiest me is, that the Iudges and Officers in that Realme bee very rigorous and extreame: and that therefore the Cicilians are greatly displeased with the Senate.
Hitherto thou hast neuer tolde mee lye, the which moueth me to beleeue all that thou writest now in thy letter. Wherefore I take it for a thing most true, that forasmuch as all those of Cicill are malitious and enuious, they giue the Iudges fitte occasion to bee cruell, For it is a generall rule, where men are out of order, the Ministers of iustice ought to bee rigorous. And though in other realms, it chaunced not, it is to be beleeued, that it is true in this Realme: whereof the ancient Prouerbe sayth, All those which inhabite the Isles are euill: but the Cicilians are worst of all. At this day the wicked are so mighty in their malice, and the good are so much diminished in their vertues, that if by Iustice there were not a bridle, the wicked would surmount al the world, and the good should vanish immediately.
But returning to our matter, I say, that considering with what, & how many euils wee are enuironed, and to how many miseries wee are subiect: I doe not maruell at the vanities that men commit, but I am ashamed of the cruelty which our iudges execute, so that wee may rather call them tyrants which kill by violence, then Iudges which minister by iustice.
Of one thing I was greatly astonied, and almost past my sense, which is, that iustice of right pertayneth to God the onely true [...]udge. the Gods, and they being offended, will bee called pittifull: and wee others borrow iustice, and not beeing offended, doe glorifie our selues to be called cruell. I know not what man will hurt another, since wee see [Page 381] that the Gods forgiuing their proper iniuries, haue obtained the renowne of mercifull, and wee others punishing the iniuries done vnto another doe remaine with the name of the tirants.
If the punishment of the Gods were so seuere, as our sinnes are filthy, and that they should measure vs with this measure, the only desert of one offence is sufficient to take life from vs. With reason hee cannot be called a man amongst men, but a sauage amongst the sauages, that forgetting to be of feeble flesh, tormenteth the flesh of his brother. If a man he helde himselfe from toppe to toe, he shall finde not one thing in him to moue him to cruelty: but he What may moue one man to bee mercifull to another. shall see in him many instruments to exercise mercy. For hee hath his eyes wherewith hee ought to behold the needy and indigent: hee hath feete to goe to the Church and Setmons, he hath hands to helpe all: hee hath his tongue to fauour the Orphanes, he hath a heart to loue God: And to conclude, hee hath vnderstā ding to know the euill, and discretion to follow the good. If men owe much to the Gods, for giuing them these Instruments to be pittifull, truely, they are bound no lesse vnto them for taking from them all occasions to be cruell. For hee hath not giuen them hornes as to buls, neither nailes as to the cat, nor yet hee hath giuen them poyson, as to the Serpent. Finally, hee hath nor giuen them so perilous feet, as to a horse to strike, nor hee hath giuen them such bloudie teeth, as to the Lyons to bite, Then sith the Gods bee pittifull, and haue created vs pittifull, and commaunded vs to bee pittifull: why do our Iudges desire then to be cruell. O how many cruell and seuere Iudges are there at this day in the Romane Empire, which vnder the colour of good zeale to iustice, aduenture to vndo the common wealth: For not for the zeale of iustice, but for the desire to attaine to renowne: they haue beene ouercome with malice, and denyed their owne proper Nature.
I doe not maruell that a Romane Censor should enuie my house, will euill to my friends, fauour mine enemies, dispise my children, with euill eyes behold my daughters, couet my goods, speake euill of my person: but that which I am ashamed of is, that diuers Iudges are so greedy to teare mens flesh, as if they were Beares, & mans flesh were nointed with honey.
CHAP. VIII. The Emperour continueth still his letter speaking against cruell Iudges, and reciteth two examples the one of a pitifull king of Cypres, and the other of a cruell iudge of Rome,
BY the saith of a good man I sweare vnto thee friend The Emperour continueth still his letter concerning cruell Magistrates. Antigonus, that I being yong, knew a Iudg in Rome whose name was Licaronicus a man of high stature, his flesh neither too fat, nor too leane, his eyes were somewhat bloudy and red, he was of the linage of the Senators, and on his face hee had but a little bearde, and on his head he had many white hayres.
This Lycaronicus of long time was Iudge in Rome, in the Romane Lawes hee was very well learned, and in Customes and policies very skilfull and expert, of his owne Nature, hee spake little, and in the aunsweres hee gaue, hee was very resolute.
[Page 382] Amongst all those which were in Rome in his time, he had this excellencie, which was: That to all hee ministred equall iustice: and to suters with great speede hee gaue briefe expedition, and dispatched them immediatly. They could neuer withdrawe him by requests, neuer corrupt him with gifts, nor beguile him with words, nor feare him with threatnings: neither would hee receyue a bribe of any man, that would offer it him: And besides this, he was very seuere in condition, churlish in wordes, vnflectible in requests, cruell in punishments, suspitious in affaires, and aboue all, hee was hated of manie, and feared of all. How much this Lycaronicus was hated, it cannot bee reported: and of how manie hee was feared, no man can thinke. For in Rome when any man was iniuried, hee saide: I pray God that Lycaronicus may liue long. When the children did crie, the mothers said vnto them, Take heede of Lycaronicus, and streight way they helde theyr peace: so that with the only name of Lycarcnicus, people were The commendations of Lycaronicus for equal iustice. astonyed, and children kept silence.
Thou oughtest also to knowe Antigonus, that when any commotion did arise in a Cittie, or in anie other Prouince, or that any sclaunder arose and increased therein, they were assured, and they saide that none other should goe thither, but onely Lycaronicus: And to say the truth, when he was arriued at that Citie or prouince, the rebells were not onely fledde: but also diuers innocents were for feare of his crueltie hidde.
For Lycaronicus was so resolute a person, that some for euill factes: others for consenting: Some for that they fauoured not the good right: others, for that they kept them secrete: none escaped to be tormented of his person, or punished in goods.
Thinkest thou Antigonus, that they haue bin fewe whome this Iudge hath caused to bee whipt, and carted, cast into deepe wells, beheaded, taken, banished, and put in the stockes, during the time that the Romaines had him with them?
By the immortall Gods, I sweare vnto thee, and as god Genius the God of nature may helpe me, that the Gallowes and Gibbettes were so furnished with feete, handes, and heads of men: as the shambles were, with Oxen, Sheepe, and Kyddes.
This Lycaronicus was so fleshly, to shead humaine bloud, that he was neuer so conuersant, nor hee neuer had so merrie a countenance, as the same The cruelty of Lycaronicus. day when he should cause any man to be drowned in the riuer of Tyber, hanged in Mount Celio, beheadded in the streete Salario, tormented, or cast into the prison Marmortina.
Oh cruell: Oh fierce: and vnspeakeable condition, that this Iudge Lycaronicus had. For it was not possible that hee should be brought vppe betweene the delicate armes of the Romanes: but in the vile entrails of you venemous Serpents.
I returne once more to say: that it is vnpossible he should be nourished with the delicate milke of women, but with the cruell bloud of Tygres.
If this Lycaronicus were cruell, why did they giue him such aucthoritie? I curse such aucthoritie. If hee did for that hee had great zeale to Iustice: I curse such zeale of iustice.
If he did it to winne more honour, I curse that honour: For, that man shall be cursed of the Gods, and hated of men, which taketh life from others, although it bee by iustice, onely to increase his renowme.
The Gods are much offended, and the people greatly damaged, where the Senate of Rome called the Iudge gentle, which is corrupted: and him that is cruell, iust. So that nowe amongst the Romaine people, [Page 383] those which heale with oyle are not credited, but those onely which cure with fire. If any mā think it, at the least I doe not thinke it, that when Licaronicus dyed, all the cruell Iudges did end with him: For through all the Romane Empire there was no more but one Lycaronicus; and at this present there is aboue three or foure in euery Common wealth.
Not without teares I speake that which I will speake, which is, that in those dayes as all the Iudges that ministred were pittifull, so was this Licaronicus renowmed for cruell. But now since all are cruell, wee hope in a Iudge which is pittifull. In the The pitty & mercifulnes of Romulus. the first Romane King. 12. yeare of the foundation of our mother Rome, the first king thereof was Romulus, who sent a commaundement to all the neighbours and inhabitants therabouts, to the end that all banished men, al those which were afflicted, all those which were persecuted, and all those which were in necessity should come to Rome, for they should bee defended from their enemies, and succoured in their necessities.
The fame being spredde throughout Italy, of the pitty and clemency which Romulus shewed in Rome (if the Annalles of the Auncients do not deceiue vs:) Rome was more peopled with inhabitants in ten yeers then Babylon or Carthage in a hundred. O noble heart of Romulus, which such things inuented: blessed bee that tongue which commaundeth, that the famous Rome with clemency and pitty should bee founded, In the originall bookes, which were in the high Capitoll, once I found diuers letters written to the sacred Senate, and Romane people, & in the beginning of the letters, the words sayd thus.
Wee the King of Parthes in Asia, to the Fathers conscript of Rome, and to the happy Romane people of Italy, and to all those which with the Romane Senate are confederate, which haue the name of Romanes, and the renowne of clemency, health and tranquility to your persons, wee doe send you, and desire the same of the gods for our selues.
Behold therefore Antigonus, what titles of clemency had our first Romanes, and what example of clemency did the Emperour leaue for them to come: so that since the barbarous strangers called them pittifull: it is not to be beleeued, that to their subiects or naturall countreymen they were cruell.
And as the Auncients haue trauelled of all to be well beloued, so they at this present through their cruelties, seeke nothing but to bee feared. If the gods perhappes should reuiue the dead, and should compare the liuing before them in iudgement: I suppose they would say these are not their children but their enemies, not encreasers of the Common-wealth but destroyers of the people.
I beeing thirty seuen yeares of The vertue of an herbe called Ilabia. age, lay in Winter season in an Isle called Chetyn, which now is called Cypres, wherein is a little mountain as yet full of Wood, which is called the mount of Archadia, where groweth an hearbe called Ilabia, which the Auncients say, that if it bee cut, it droppeth bloud: and the nature of it is, that if one doe rubbe any man, with the bloud thereof hote, although hee would not) yet hee shall loue him, and if they doe annoint him with the bloude that is colde, hee shall hate him.
Of this hearbe wee neede not doubt any thing at all, for I did proue it, and anointed one with that bloud, who would sooner loose his life, then that loue which he bare mee. There was a Kingin that Isle of great example [Page 370] of life, and greatly renowned of clemency, though in deed, neyther by writing, nor by wordes I could neuer know his name: but that hee was buried vnder foure pillars in a Tombe of Marble, and about the Tombe were engrauen these Greeke and ancient letters, where amongst other things these wordes were engrauen.
[Page 385] HOw thinkest thou Antigonus, what Epitaph was this, and what prince ought he to be, of whom I should say, his life ought to bee glorious, and his memory eternall? I sweare vnto thee by the law of a good man: and as the Gods may prosper me, I tooke not so much pleasure in Pompey with his Hierusalem: in Semiremis with her India: in king Cyrus with his Babylon: in Caius Caesar, with his Gawles: in Scipio with his Affrike: as I haue in the king of Cypres in his graue. For more glorie hath that king there in that sharpe mountaine being deade: then others haue had, in prowde Rome, beeing aliue.
CHAP. IX. ¶ Marcus Aurelius continueth his Letter against cruell Iudges. Of the words which the Emperor Nero spake concerning Iustice: and of the instructions the Emperour Augustus gaue to a Iudge, which hee sent into Dacia.
NEITHER for that which I write in this Letter, nor yet for that king Cirus had in his Graue: my intention is not to defende the euil, to the ende that for their euill deedes, and outragiousnesse they should bee punished: for by this means it shold bee worse for mee to fauour them, then for them to bee euill: for they The Emperour continueth his letter against euil Iudges. through debility do offend, and I by malice doe erre. But in this case it seemeth vnto mee, and to all others which are of good iudgement, that since frailety in men is naturall, and the punishment which they giue is voluntary: Let Iudges therefore in ministring iustice shew, that they do it for the weale of the Commonwealth, and not with a mind for to reuenge. To the end the faulty may haue occasion to amned the faultes past, and not reuenge iniuries present, the diuine Plato in the books of his Common-wealth sayde, that Iudges ought to haue two things present before their eyes, that is to say, that in iudging things touching the good of others, they shew no couetousnes, and in punishing any man, they shew no reuenge: For Iudges haue licence to chastice the bodie: but therefore they haue no licence to hurt theyr hearts.
Nero the Emperour was greatly defamed in his life, and verie cruell in his iustice: And withall his cruelties it chanced, that as one in a day brought him a iudgement for to subscribe, to behead certain murtherers: Hee fetching a great sigh, sayd these The cruelty of Nero. with one of his pittiful sayings. words: O how happy were I, if I had neuer learned to write, onely to bee excused to subscribe this sentence.
Certainely, the Emperour Nero, for speaking such a pittifull word at that time, deserued immortal memory: but afterwardes his so cruell life peruerted so notable a sentence.
For speaking the truthe, one euil word sufficeth to deface manie good wordes. O how many realmes and countreyes haue bin lost, not so much for the euills which in those the wicked haue committed, as for the disordinate Iustices which the ministers of iustice therein haue executed.
For they thinking by rigour to correct the dammages past, haue raysed vppe present slaunders for euer. It is knowne to all men who and what the Emperour Augustus hath bin, who in all his doings was exceeding good: For, he was noble, valiant, stout, fierce and a louer of iustice, and aboue [Page 386] all, very pittifull. And for so much in other things hee shewed his pitie and clemencie, he ordained that no prince should subscribe iudgements of death with his owne hand: neyther that hee should see iustice done of any with his owne eyes. Truely the law was pittifully ordained, and for the cleannes & purenes of Emperors very necessary.
For, it seemeth better for Princes to defend theyr Landes with the sharpe sword, then to subscribe a sentence of death with the cruell penne.
This good Emperour Augustus was very diligent to chuse ministers of iustice, and very carefull to teach them The carefulnes of Augustus in choosing Iudges. how they should behaue themselues in the Common-wealth: admonishing them not onely of that they had to doe, but also of that they ought to flie. For the ministers of iustice, oftentimes faile of theyr duetie.
In Capua there was a gouernour named Escaurus, who was a iust iudge, though hee were somewhat seuere: whom the Emperour Augustus sent to the realme of Dace, to take charge of that prouince. And amongst diuers other things hee spake these wordes vnto him, to retaine them in his memorie.
Friend Escaurus, I haue determined to plucke thee from Capua: and to put into thy custodie the gouernment of the prouince of Dace: where thou shalt represente the Royall maiestie of my person: and thou oughtest also to consider well, that as I make thee better both in honour and goods: So thou in like case shouldest make thy selfe better in life, and more temperate in iustice, thou hast been a little too rigorous, and in thy life somewhat too rashe.
I counsell thee therefore, I doe desire thee, and furthermore, I doe strictly command thee, that thou chaunge thy trade, and course of life: and haue a great respect to myne honour and good name.
For thou knowest right well, that the onely profite and honour of the Common-wealth of Romaine Princes consisteth in hauing good or euill ministers of their iustice.
If thou wilt doe that I would wish thou shouldest: I let thee vnderstand, that I doe nor commit mine Honour in thy trust, neyther my iustice, to the intent thou shouldest become an enuyer of the innocent, and a scourge of transgressours: but that onely with the one hand thou helpe to sustaine the good, and with the other, thon endeuour to helpe to amend the euill.
And if thou wilt more particularly know my intention: I do send thee, to the end thou shouldest be graundfather What is required in an vpright iudge. to the Orphans, an aduocate for the widdowes, a playster for the grieued, a staffe for the blinde, and a father to all. Let therefore the resolution of all bee, to reioyce mine enemyes, to comfort my friendes, to lift vppe the weake, and to fauour the strong: So that thou bee indifferent to all, and partiall to none: to the ende, that thorough thy vpright dealing, mine may reioyce to dwell there, and strangers desire to come, & serue me here.
This was the instruction which the Emperour Augustus gaue to the Gonernour Escaurus: And if a man will consider and weigh his wordes well, hee shall finde them compendious enogh, that I would they were written in our Iudges hearts.
By thy letter thou declarest that the Iudges whom the Senate sent to that Isle, are not very honest, nor yet without some suspicion of couetousnesse: Oh wofull commonwealth, where the Iudges thereof are cruell, dishonest, and couetous? For the cruell Iudges seeke nought else, but the bloud of innocents, they couet the goods of the poore, and they slaunder the good, to [Page 387] such and so wicked a commonwealth. I would say that it were better to remaine in the mountaines among the bruit beasts, then by such vniust Iudges to bee gouerned in a Commonwealth: for the fierce Lions (which of all beasts are most cruell) if in his presence the hunter prostrate himselfe on the earth before him, the Lion will neyther touch him nor his garment. O my friend Antigonus, dost thou thinke, that if the Commonwealth bee vnhappy which hath such Iudges, that therefore Rome may reioyce which prouided them? By the faith of a good man I sweare vnto thee, that I count the Senators worse which sent them, then the Iudges which went thither. It is a great griefe to a noble and stout heart to demand Iustice of a man, which neyther is true, nor yet obserueth Iustice: but it is a greater griefe to see a Iudge, that to many hath executed tyranny, and to many poore men hath done sundry wrongs, afterwards not with the life hee leadeth, but with the authoritie hee hath, presumeth to correct diuers iudges.
Hee that hath the office to punish the vitious, ought himselfe to bee voyd of all vices: otherwise, he that hath that Office, by tyranny executeth iustice: and furthermore, he is a traytor to the Common-wealth. It is vnpossible that any Iudge should bee good, vnlesse hee hath the authority of his office for accessary, and his pure life for principall.
The end why a Iudge is sent in prouinces, is to define doubtfull causes, to reforme their manners, to fauour those that can little, and by violence The reason why Iudges are ordained. to enforce those that can doe much. And for the most part there is no Common-wealth so weake, but may well hang a thiefe vpon the gallouse, though there came no Iudge from Rome to giue sentence.
O how many Iudges are there now a dayes in Rome, which haue caused diuers to bee hanged, regarding nothing but the first thiefe: and they remaine free, hauing robbed all the people. Which ought to thinke themselues assured; that though punishment be deferred, yet in the end the fault shall not be pardoned: for the offences which men in their life time doe dissemble, the Gods after their death doe punish.
It is much good for the Common wealth, and no lesse honour for the Prince, which hath the charge thereof, that the Iudge bee honest of person, and diligent in iustice, and that in no vice (for the which he punisheth other) he be noted or defamed himselfe. For much is the office of iustice peruerted, when one theefe hangeth another on the gallowes.
CHAP. X. The Emperour followeth his purpose in his letter against cruell Iudges, and declareth a notable Ambassage which came from Iudea to the Senate of Rome, to complaine of the Iudges that gouerned that Realme.
IN the third yeare The Emperour continueth still his letter concerning cruell Magistrates. after Pompeius took the City of Helya, which now is called Hierusalem: Valerius Gracchus a Romane borne, was sent at that time into that Region for the Romans, This Gracchus was very stout of courage, subtil in affayres, and honest in life: but notwithstanding all this, in conuersation he was vnbrideled, and in the administration of iustice exceeding rigorous: when the Iewes saw themselues not onely subiect to the Romanes, [Page 388] but besides that euill handeled: they determined to send their Embassador to Rome, to the intent to informe the Senate of the tyrannies and oppressions which were cōmitted in the land: And for to accomplish the same, they sent a very aged man (as by the haires of his head did appeare) who was learned in the Hebrewe, Greeke, and Latine letters. For the Hebrews are very apt to all Sciences, but in weapons great Cowardes. This Hebrewe came to What the ancient Hebrewes were and their conditions. Rome, and spake to the Senate in this wise.
O Fathers conscript, O happy people, your good Fortune and fatall destenyes permitting it, or to say better: We forsaking our GOD, Hierusalem which of all the Cities was Ladie and mistresse: and of all the Hebrewes in Palestine mother, wee see it now presently seruant and Tributarie to Rome: whereof wee Iewes ought not to maruell, neyther yee Romaines to be prowde. For the highest Trees by vehement windes are soonest blowne downe.
Great were the Armies which Pompeyus had, whereby we were vanquished: but the greater hath our offences bin, since by them wee doe deserue to be forsaken of our God. For wee Hebrewes haue a GOD, which doth not put vs vnder the good or euil fortune: but doeth gouerne vs with his mercie and iustice.
I will that yee heare one thing by mouth, but I had rather ye should see it by experience: which is, That we haue so mercifull GOD, that though among fiftie thousand euill, there was of vs but ten thousand good: yet he shewed such effectuall tokens of great mercie, that both the Aegyptians and the Romaines might haue seene howe our GOD can accomplish and performe more alone, then all your gods together.
So it is, we Hebrewes (agreeing in one Faith and vnitie) haue one onely God: and in one God onely we put our whole trust and beliefe; and him we desire to serue, though we doe not serue him, neyther should serue him, on such condicion to offend him. He is so mercifull, that hee would not let vs proue what his powerfull hand can doe, neyther would hee put our woefull people in Captiuity, as hee hath, nor also our GOD can deceyue vs, neither can our wrytings lye.
But the greater offenders wee bee, the greater Lords shall yee be ouer vs. And as long as the wrath of God shal hang ouer vs, so long shall the power How vn. happie that Realme is, that is forsakē of God. of yee Romaines endure.
For our vnhappy chaunce hath not giuen ye our Realme for your deserts: nor yet for that yee were the rightfull heyres therevnto: but to the ende ye should bee the scourgers of our offences, &c.
After the will of our God shal be fulfilled: after that he hath appeased his wrath and indignation against vs, and that wee shall be purged of our offences, and that hee shall behold vs with the eyes of his clemencie: Then we others shall recouer that which wee haue lost, and you others shall loose that which ye haue euill wonne. And it may so chaunce, that as presently of ye Romaines we are commaunded: so the time shall come that of yee others we shall be obeyed.
And for as much as in this case the Hebrewes feele one, and yee Romaines feele another: neyther yee can cause me to worship many Gods, and much lesse should I be sufficient to draw ye to the faith of one onely God: I referre all to GOD, the creatour of all things, by whose might we are created and gouerned.
Therefore touching the effect and matter of my Embassage, knowe yee now, that in all former times past, vntill this present, Rome hath had peace with [Page 389] Iudea, and Iudea hath had friendship with Rome: so that wee did fauour you in the warres, and you others preserued vs in peace. Generally, nothing is more desired then peace, and nothing more hated then warre. And further, all this presupposed, we see see it with our eyes, and also do read of our predecessors: that the world hath beene alwayes in contention, and rest hath alwayes been banished: For indeed, if wee see many sigh for peace, wee see many more employe themselues to warre. If yee others would banish those from you, which doe moue you to beare vs euill will, and wee others knew those which prouoke vs to rebell, neyther Rome should be so cruell to Iudea, nor yet Iudea should so much hate Rome.
The greatest token and signe of peace, is to dispatch out of the way, the disturberbers thereof: for friendshippe oft times is lost, not so much for the interest of the one, or of the other, A token of peace if the disturbers thereof bee taken away as for the vndiscreetnes of the Mediators.
When one common-wealth striueth against another, it is vnpossible that their controuersies endure long: if those come betweene them (as indifferent Mediators) be wise. But if such a one which taketh vpon him those affayres, be more earnestly bent then the enemie wherewith the other fighteth; wee will say, that hee more subtilly casteth wood on the fire, then hee draweth water to quench the heate.
All that which I say (Romanes) is because that since the banishment of Archelaus from Iudea (sonne of the great King Herode) in his place you sent vs Pomponius, Marcus Rufus, & Valerius to bee our Iudges, who haue beene foure plagues, the least whereof sufficeth to poyson all Rome.
What greater calamity could happen to our poore Realme of Palestine, then Iudges to bee sent from Rome to take euill customes from the euill, and they themselues to be inuentors of new vices? What greater Where Iudges are vniust, there the commō wealth goeth to ruine. inconuenience, can chance to Iustice, then when the Iudges which ought to punish the lightnesse of youth, doe glorifie themselues to be Captaines of the light in their age? What greater infamie can bee vnto Rome, then when those which ought to bee iust in all iustice, and to giue example of all vertues: bee euill in all euils, and inuentors of all vices? Wherein appeareth your little care, and much tyrannie.
For all sayde openly in Asia, that the theeues of Rome doe hang the theeues of Iewrie. What will yee I shall say more, Romanes, but that wee little esteeme the theeues which keepe the woods, in comparison of the iudges which rob vs in our owne houses.
O how wofull were our fatall Destinies, the day that we became subiect to the Romanes? we feare no thieues, which should robbe in the high way, wee feare no fire, which should burne our goods, nor wee feare no Tyrants, which should make warre against vs, neyther any Assyrians, which should spoyle our countrey: wee feare not the corrupt ayre, that should infect vs, neither the plague, that shold take our liues from vs: but we feare your cruell iudges, which oppresse vs in the commonwealth, and robbe vs of our good name.
I say not without a cause they trouble the Common wealth: for that layde a part which they say, that laid a part which they meane, and that layde apart which they robbe, immediately they write to the Senate to consent vnto them, not of the good which they finde in the Ancients, but of the lightnesse which they see in the young. And as the Senatours do [Page 390] heare them here, and doe not see them there: so you giue more credite to one that hath beene but three monethes in the Prouince, then to those which haue gouerned them common wealth thirty yeares.
Consider Senatours, that you haue made and appointed Senators, in this place, for that you were the wisest, the honestest, the best experimented, and the most moderate and vertuous.
Therefore in this aboue all, shall be seen if yee be vertuous, in that you doe not beleeue all: For if those bee many, and of diuers Nations, which haue to doe with you: much more diuers and variable are their ententions and ends, for the which they entreate. I lye if your Iudges haue not done so many wrongs in iustice and forsaken their discipline, that they haue taught the youth of Iudea inuentions of vices, which neyther haue beene heard of our Fathers, neither reade in our books, nor yet seen in our time. You other Romanes, The counsell of the poore ought not to bee despised. since you are noble and mighty, you disdaine to take counsell of men that be poore, the which yee ought not to doe, neyther counsell your friendes to doe it: For to know, and to haue little, seldome times goeth together: As many counsels as Iudea hath taken of Rome, so many let now Rome take of Iudea. You ought to know, though our Captaines haue wonne many Realms by shedding bloud, yet notwithstanding your Iudges ought to keepe them, not with rigorous shedding of bloud, but with clemency and winning their heats.
O Romanes, admonish, command, pray and aduertise your Iudges, whom you send to gouerne strange Prouinces, that they employ themselues more to the Common-wealth of the Realme, then their hands to number their fines and forfeites.
For otherwise they shal slaunder those which send them: and shal hurt those whom they gouern. Your Iudges in iust things are not obeyed for any other cause, but for as much as first they haue commaunded marrie vniust things.
The iust commaundements make the humble hearts, and the vniust commandements doe turne and conuert the meeke and humble men, to seuere and cruell persons. Humane malice is so giuen to commaund, & is troublesome to be commaunded, that though they commaund vs to do good, wee doe obey euill: the more they commaund vs euill, the worse they bee obeyed in the good.
Beleeue me Romanes, one thing: and doubt nothing therein, that of the great lightnesse of the Iudges, is sprung the little feare & great shame of the people. Each Prince which The [...] that Princes ought to haue in [...] Magistrates. shall giue to any Iudge the charge of Iustice, whom he knoweth not to be able, doth it not so much for that hee knoweth wel how to minister Iustice: but because hee is very craftie to augment his goods. Let him be well assured, that when he least thinketh on it, his honour shalbe in most infamy, his credit lost, his goods diminished, and some notable punishment light vpon his house. And because I haue other things to speake in secret, I will heere conclude that is open: and finally, I say, that if yee will preserue vs and our Realme, for the which you haue hazarded your selues in many perills, keepe vs in Iustice, and wee will haue you in reuerence: command vs Romans, and we will obey as Hebrewes; giue a pittifull president, and yee shall haue all the Realme in safegard.
What will yee, I say, more, but that if you be not cruel to punish our weaknesse, we will bee very obedient to your ordinances, before yee prouide [Page 391] for to commaund vs, thinke it well to entreat vs: for by praying with all meekenesse, and not commaunding with presumption, ye shall finde in vs the loue which the fathers are wont to finde in their children: and not the treason which the Lords haue accustomed to finde in their seruants.
CHAP. XI. The Emperour concludeth his letter against the cruell Iudges, and declareth what the Grandfather of King Boco spake in the Senate.
AL that which aboue I haue spoken, the Hebrewes sayde, and not without greate admiration The conclusion of the Emperours letter concerning cruell Iudges. hee was heard of all the Senate. O Rome without Rome, which now hast ought but the walles, and art made a common Stewes of vices. What did dest thou tell mee, when a stranger did rebuke and taunt thee in the middest of thy Senate? It is a generall rule, where there is corruption of custom, liberties are alwayes lost, which seemeth most true here in Rome. For the Romanes, which in times past went to reuenge their iniuries into strange Countries: now others come out of strange Countries to assault them in their owne houses. Therefore since the iustice of Rome is condemned, what thinkest thou that I beleeue of that Isle of Cicile?
Tell mee (I pray thee, Antigonus,) from whence commeth thinkest thou so great offence to the people, and such corrupton to iustice in the Common wealth? If peraduenture thou knowest it not, harken, and I will tell thee.
It is an order whereby all goeth without order, Thou oughtest for to know that the Counsellors of Princes being importunate, and the Prince not resisting them, but suffering them they deceyue him, some with couetousnesse, other with ignorance, giue from whome they ought to take, and take from whom they ought to giue, they honour them who do dishonor them, they withhold the iust, and deliuer the couetous, they despise the wise, and trust the light. Finally, they prouide not for the offences of persons, but for the persons of offices.
Hearke Antigonus, and I will tell thee more. These miserable Iudges after they are prouided and inuested in the authority of their Offices (wher of they were vnworthy) seeing themselues of power to commaund, and that the dignity of their offices is much more, then the desert of their persons: immediately they make themselues to be feared, ministring extreame iustice.
They take vpon them the estates of great Lords, they liue of the sweat of the poore, they supply with malice The property of euil Iudges and Officers. that which they want in discretion: and that which is worst of all, they mingle another mans iustice with their owne proper profit. Therefore heare more what I will say vnto thee, that these cursed Iudges, seeing them selues pestered with sundry affayres, & that they want the eares of knowledge, the sayles of vertue, and the ancors of experience, not knowing how to remedy such small euills, they inuent others more greater, they distribute the common peace, onely for to augment their owne particular profite.
And finally, they bewayle their owne damage, and are displeased [Page 392] with the prosperity of another. Nothing can bee more iust, that since they haue fallen into offices not profitable for them, they doe suffer (although they would not) great damages, so that the one for taking gifts remaine slaundered, and the other, for giuing them remaine vndone. Hearken yet, and I will tell thee more.
Thou oughtest to know, that the beginning of these Iudges are pride and ambition, their meanes enuy & malice, and their endings are death and destruction: for the leaues shal neuer be greene where the roots are A Caue at for Iudges and all other Magistrates. drie: If my counsell should take place in this case, such Iudges should not bee of counsell with Princes, neyther yet should they be defended of the priuate, but as suspect men they should not only be cast from the cō mon wealth, but also they should suffer death.
It is a great shame to those which demaund offices of the Senate, but greater is the rashnesse and boldnes of the Counsellers, which doe procure them: and wee may say both to the one, and to the other, that neyther the feare of God doth with draw them, nor the power of Princes doth bridle them, nor shame doth trouble them, neyther the Common wealth doth accuse them: and finally, neyther reason commaundeth them, nor the Law subdueth them. But hearke and I will tell thee more. Thou oughtest alwayes to know, what the forme and manner is, that the Senatours Offices giuen more for friendshippe then for desert. haue to diuide the offices: for sometimes they giue them to their friends in recompence of their friendship, & other times they giue them to theyr seruants, to acquite their seruices, and sometimes also they giue them to soliciters, to the end they should not importune them, so that few offices remaine for the vertuous, the which onely for beeing vertuous are prouided.
O my friend Antigonus, I let you to vnderstand, that since Rome did keepe her renowne, and the Comwealth was well gouerned, the diligence which the Iudges vsed towards the Senat, to the end they might giue them offices, the selfe same ought the Senate to haue to seeke vertuous men, to commit such charge into their hands. For the office of iustice ought to be giuen not to him which procureth it, but to him that best deserueth it.
In the yeare of the foundation of Rome, 642. yeares the Romane people had many warres throughout all the world: That is to say, Caius Celius against those of Thrace, Gneus Gardon his brother against the Sardes, Iunius Scilla against the Cimbres; Minutius Rufus against the Daces, Seruilius Scipio against the Macedonians, and Marius Consull against Iugurtha King of the Numedians: and amongst all these, the warre of the Numidians was the most renowmed, and also perillous. For if Rome had many Armies against Iugurtha to conquer him: Iugurtha had in Rome good friends, which did fauour him. King Boco at that time was king of the Mauritans, who was Iugurthas friend: in the end, hee was afterwards the occasion that Iugurtha was ouerthrowne, and that Marius tooke him.
These two Kings Marius the Consull brought to Rome, and triumphed The triumph of Marius the Romane Consull. of them, leading them before his triumphant chariot, their neckes loaden. with yrons, & their eyes full of teares The which vnlucky fortune al the Romaines which behelde lamented, and tooke great pitie of the strangers whō they heard. The night after the triumph was ended, it was decreede in the Senate, that Iugurtha should bee beheaded, leauing king Boco aliue, [Page 393] depriued of his Country. And the occasion thereof was this: The Romaines had a custom of long time to put no man to execution before that first with great diligēce they had looked the ancient bookes, to see if any of their predecessors had done any notable seruice to Rome, whereby the poore prisoner might deserue his pardon.
It was found written in a booke, which was in the high Capitoll, that the Grandfather of King Boco was very sage, and a speciall friend to the Romane people, and that once hee came to Rome, and made diuers orations to the Senate, and amongst other notable sentences, there was found in that book, that he had spoken these words: Woe be to that realme where all are such, that neyther the good amongst the euill, The speech of the Grandfather of K. Boco. nor the euil amongst the good are known. Woe vpon that realme, which is the entertainer of all fooles, and a destroyer of all Sages. Woe is that Realme where the good are fearefull, and the euill too bold: Wo on that realme where the patient are despised, and the seditious commended. Wo on that Realm which destroyeth those which watch for the good, and crowneth those that watch to doe euill. Woe to that realme, where the poore are suffered to bee proud: and the rich tirants. Wo to that realme, where all know the euil, and no man doth follow the good. woe to that realme where so many euill vices are openly committed, which in another countrie dare not secrrtly bee mentioned. Wo to that realm, where all procure that they desire, where all attaine to that they procure, where all thinke that this is euill, where al speake that they thinke, and finally, where all may doe that which they will. In such and so vnfortunate a realm where the people are too wicked, let euery man beware hee bee not inhabitant: For in short time they shall see vpon him, eyther the yre of the Gods, the fury of the men, the depoputation of the good, or the desolation of the Tirants.
Diuers other notable thinges were contained in those Orations, the which are not (at this present touching my letter, But forasmuch as we thought it was a very iust thing, that they should pardon the folly of the The Nephew pardoned for the good desert of the Grandfather. Nephew for the deserts of the wise grandfather.
Thou shalt reade this my letter openly to the Pretours and Iudges, which are resident there, and the case shall bee, that when thou shalt reade it, thou shalt admonish them, that if they will not amend secretly, wee will punish them openly.
I wrote vnto thee the last day, that as touching thy banishment, I would be thy friend: and be thou assured, that for to enioy thy old friendshipp, and to performe my word, I will not let to danger my person.
I write vnto Panutius my Secretary to succour thee with two thousand Sesterses, wherewith thou mayest releeue thy pouerty: and from hence I send thee my letter, wherewith thou mayest comfort thy sorrowfull hear. I say no more to thee in this case, but that thorough the Gods thou mayest haue contentation of all that thou enioyest, health of thy person, and comfort of thy friends: the bodily euils, the cruell enemies, the perillous destenies, bee farre from me.
Marke, In the behalfe of thy Wife Rufa, I haue saluted my wise Faustine: shee and I both haue receyued with ioy thy salutations, and with thankes wee sent them you againe, I desire to see thy person here in Italy, and wish my feuer quartens there with thee in Scicilie.
CHAP. XII. An exhortation of the Author to Princes and Noble men, to embrace peace, and to eschew the occasions of warre.
OCtauian Augustus, second Emperour of Rome, is commended of all, for that The vertous life of Augustus second Emperour of Rome described. hee was so good of his person, and so wel beloued of all the Romane Empire. Suetonius Tranquillus sayth, that when any man dyed in Rome in his time, they gaue great thanks to the Gods for that they tooke their life from them, before their Prince knew what death meant. And not contented onelie with this, but in their Testaments they commaunded their heires and children, that yearely they should offer great sacrifices of their proper goods in all the Temples of Rome, to the end the Gods shold prolong the dayes of their Prince. That time indeed might bee called the golden age, and the blessed land, where the Prince loued so well his subiects, and the subiects so much obeyed their prince: for seldome times it hapneth that one will be content with the seruices of all, neyther that all will bee satisfied with the gouernement of one.
The Romans for none other cause wished for the good Prince (more then for themselues) life, out because he kept the commonwealth in peace. The vertue of this Prince deserued much prayse, and the good will of the people merited no lesse commendation: he for deseruing it to them, & they for giuing it to him: for to say the truth, there are few in number that so heartily loue others, that for theyr sakes will hate themselues.
There is no man so humble, but in things of honour wil be content to goe before, saue only in death, where he can be content to come behinde. And this seemeth to bee very cleare, in that that now dyeth the father, now the mother, now the husband, now the wife, now the sonne, & now his neighbour, in the end euery man is content with the death of an other, so that he with his owne life may escape himselfe.
A Prince which is gentle, patient, stout, sober, honest and true, truly hee of right ought to be commended: but The vertues of a godly prince described. aboue all, & more then all, the Prince which keepeth his Common wealth in peace, hath great wrong if hee not of all beloued? What good can the Common wealth haue, wherin there is warre and dissention? Let euerie man say what he will, without peace no man can enioy his owne, no man can eate without feare, no man sleepeth in good rest, no man goeth safe by the way, no mā trusteth his neighbour. Finally, I say, that where there is no peace, there wee are threatened dayly with death, and euery houre in feare of our life. It is good the Prince do scoure the realme of theeues, for there is nothing more vniust, thē that which the poor with toile and labour get, should with vagabonds in idlenes be wasted. It is good the Prince doe weed the realme of blasphemers, for it is an euident token that those that dare blaspheme the king of heauen, will not let to speake euill of the princes of the earth. It is good the prince do cleare the common wealth of vagabonds & players: for play is so euill a mothe, that it eateth the new gown and consumeth the drie wood. It is good that the Prince doe forbidde his subiects of prodigall banquets, & superfluous apparrell: for where men spend much in things superfluous, [Page 395] it chanceth afterwards that they want of their necessaries. But I aske now, What auayleth it a Prince to banish all vices from his Common-wealth, if otherwise he keepeth it in warre. The only ende why Princes are Princes; is to follow the good, and to eschew the euill. What shall you say therefore, since that in the time of warres, Princes cannot reforme vices, nor correct the vicious.
Oh, if Princes and Noble men knew what damage they doe to their countreyes, the day that they take vppon them warre: I thinke and also affirme, that they would not onely not begin it, nor yet anie priuate person durste Warre ought to be eschewed, & peace entertained. scarely remember it. And hee that doth counsell the Prince the contrary, ought by reason to bee iudged to the Common-wealth an enemie. Those which counsel Princes to seeke peace, and to keepe peace, without all doubt they haue wrong if they be not heard: if they be loued: and if they be not credited, For the counsellour which for a light ocasion counselleth his Prince to beginne warre: I say vnto him eyther choler surmounteth, or else good Conscience wanteth.
It chaunceth often times that the prince is vexed and troubled, because one certifieth him, that a prouince is rebelled, or some other prince hath inuaded his countrey, and as the matter requireth, the Councell is assembled.
There are some too rashe counsellours, which immediately iudge peace to bee broken as lightly, as others doe desire that Warres should neuer beginne.
When a Prince in such a case asketh counsell: they ought forthwith not to aunswere him suddenly. For things concerning the Warres, ought with great wisedome first to be considered, and then with as much aduisement to be determined.
King Dauid neuer tooke any warre in hand, though he were very wise, but first hee counselled with GOD; The good Iudas Machabeus, neuer entred into Battell, but first hee made his K, Dauid a patterne for Princes, how to stain warre. prayer vnto Almightie GOD.
The Greekes and Romanes durst neuer make warre against their enemies, but first they would do sacrifice to the Gods, and consulte also with their Oracles.
The matters of Iustice, the recreations of his person, the reward of the good, the punishment of the euill; and the diuiding of rewards, a Prince may communicate with any priuate man: but all matters of Warre, hee ought first to counsell with GOD: For, the Prince shall neuer haue perfect victorie ouer his Enemyes, vnlesse hee first committe the quarrell thereof vnto GOD.
Those which counsell Princes, (whether it be in matters of warre, or in the affaires of peace) ought alwaies to remember this Sentence: That they giue him such counsells alwayes when hee is alone in his Chamber, as they would doe if they saw him at the poynt of death very sicke. For, at that instant, no man dare speake with Flattery, nor burden his conscience with bryberie.
When they entreate of warre, they which moue it ought first to consider, that if it came not well to passe, all the blame will be imputed to their counsell. And if that his substaunce bee not presently able to recompence the losse, let him assure himselfe, that here after his soule shall suffer the paine.
Men ought so much to loue peace, and so much to abhorre warre, that I belieue that the same preparation that a Priest hath in his Conscience with GOD before hee presume to receiue the holy Communion: euen the same ought a counsellour to haue, before that vnto his Prince hee giueth counsell concerning warre. Since princes [Page 396] are men, it is no maruell though they feele iniuties as men, and that they desire Howmuch euery ought to preferre peace before warre. to reuenge as men. Therefore, for this cause they ought to haue wise men of their counsell, whereby they should mittigate and asswage theyr griefes and troubles. For, the Counsellours of Princes, ought neuer to counsell thing, they beeing angrie, wherwith after they may iustly be displeased, when they be pacified.
Following our matter, in counting the goods which are lost, in loosing peace: and the euils which increase in winning warres: I say, that amongst other things the greatest euill is, that in time of Warre they locke vp closely all vertues, and set at libertie all vices,
During the time that Princes and great Lords maintaine warre, though they bee Lordes of their Realmes and dominions by right, yet for a trueth they are not to indeede.
For, at that time the Lordes desire more to content their Souldiours and subiects, then the Souldyers and subiects seeke to content the Lords. And this they doe, because they through power might vanquish their enemies, and further, through the loue of their money, relieue their necessities.
Eyther Princes are gouerned by that wherevnto by sensualitie they are moued, or else by that wherewith reason is contented. If they will follow reason, they haue too much of that How vnsat [...]able a couetous man is. they possesse: but if they desire to follow the sensuall appetite, there is nothing that will content them For, as it is vnpossible to drie vp all the water in the Sea: so it is harde to satisfie the heart of man that is giuen to couetousnes.
If Princes take vpon them warres, saying: that their right is taken from them: and that therefore they haue a conscience: Let them beware that such conscience bee not corrupted. For, in the worlde there is no Warre iustified: but for the beginning thereof, the Princes at one time or an other, haue their Consciences burdened.
If Princes take vpon them Warre, for none other cause, but to augment their state and dignitie. I say that this is a vaine hope: For, they consume and lose (for the moste part,) more in one or two yeares warres, then euer they get againe during their life.
If Princes take vpon them Warre, to reuenge an iniurie: as well for this also it is a thing superfluous: For, manie goe to the warres being wronged onely with one thing, and afterwards they returne iniuried with manie.
If Princes take vpon them Warres for none other cause but to winne honour: me thinketh also that that is an vnprofitable conquest: For, me thinketh that Fortune is not a person so famous, What incō ueniences are incident to Warres. that into her hands a man may commit his honour, his goods, and his life.
If Princes take vpon them warre to leaue of them in the worlde to come some memorie: this no lesse them the other seemeth to me vaine. For without doubt, if we examine the hystories that be past, we shall finde those to be more in number which haue bin defamed: then those which for vanquishing of their enemyes, haue bin renowmed.
It Princes take vpon them warres, supposing that there are in an other countrey more pleasures and delights then in their owne; I say, that to thinke this, proceedeth of little experience, and of lesse conscience. For, to a Prince there can bee no greater shame, nor conscience, then to beginne warres in straunge Realmes, to maintaine his owne pleasures and vices at home.
Let no Princes deceyue themselues, in thinking that there are in straunge [Page 397] Countries more things then in their owne: For in the end, there is no Land nor nation in the world, where there is not Winter, and Summer, night and day, sicknesse and health, riches and pouerty, mirth and sadnesse, friends and enemies, vitious, and vertuous, aliue and dead. Finally, I say, that in all parts all things What may moue Princes to lo [...] peace, and [...]ate warre. agree in one, saue onely the dispositions of men, which are diuers. I would aske Princes and great Lords, the which doe and will liue at theyr pleasure, what they want in theyr Realmes, yea though they bee little? If they will hunt, they haue mountaines and Parkes: if they will fish they haue pondes: if they will walke, they haue riuers, if they will refresh themselues they haue baynes: if they will bee merry, they haue Musitians: if they delight in apparrelling them selues, they haue rich clothes: if they will giue, they haue money: if they desire women, they haue wiues: if they will take their rest, they haue their Gardens: if Winter annoye them, they haue hote Countries: & if they will eate, they want no meats. Hee that with peace hath all these things in his owne Dominion, why then with warre doe hee seeke them in a strange Country?
Men oftentimes flye from one Countrey to another, not to be more deuoute, nor more vertuous, but to haue greater liberty and oportunitie to haunt vices. And afterwards when they see the endes of their deeds, they cannot refrayne their hearts from sighes, since they might haue enioyed that at home with peace, which in straunge Countries, they sought with troubles.
There are so few thinges wherewith we are contented in the world, that if perchaunce a man finde in any one place, any one thing, wherewith to content him, Let him beware that the Diuell doe not deceiue him, saying: That in such another place he may receate himselfe better: For whether soeuer wee goe, wee shall finde such penurie, and want of true pleasures, and comforts, and such plenty and copious aboundance of troubles and torments that for to comfort vs, in an hundred yeares wee scarcely finde one, and to torment vs, wee finde at euery foot a thousand.
CHAP. XIII. The Author reciteth the commodities which come of peace, declaring how diuers Princes vpon light occasions, haue made cruell warres.
Dimo an ancient king of Ponto, sayd vnto Questions demaunded by King Dimo, and answered. a Philosopher that was withhim: Tel me Philosopher, I haue health, I haue honour, and I haue riches, Is there any thing more to bee desired amongst men, or to bee giuen of the Gods in this life?
The Philosopher aunswered him: I see that I neuer saw, and I heare that I neuer heard: For health riches, and honour, the Gods seldome times doe thrust in one person, his time is so short that dooth possesse them, that they haue more reason for to pray that they might bee quieted of them, then for to bee proude for that they possesse them.
And I tell thee further King Dimo, It little profiteth that the Gods haue giuen thee all these thinges, if thou dooest not content thy selfe therewith, the which I thinke they haue not giuen thee, nor neuer will [Page 398] giuen thee: For the Gods are so iust in diuiding their gifts, that to them, to whom they giue contentation, they take from them their riches, and those whom they giue riches, they take their contentation. Plutarch in the first of his pollitikes putteth this example, and hee declareth not the name of this Philosopher.
O how great a benefit is that which the Gods giue to Princes and great Lords, in giuing them their health, in giuing them riches, and in giuing them honour: but if besides those hee giueth them not contentation, I say that in giuing them the goods, he giueth them trauell and danger: for if the trauell of the poore be greater then the trauell of the rich: without comparison, the discontentation of the rich is greater then the discontentation of the poore.
Men little regarding their health become sicke, little esteeming theyr riches become poore, and because they know not what honour is; they become dishonoured. I meane, that the rash Princes vntill such time as Commodities that follow peace. they haue bin well beaten in the wars, will alwayes little regard peace. The day that you Princes proclaime wars against your enemies, you set at liberty all vices to your subiects: Yet you say your meaning is not they should bee euill. I say it is true. Yet all this ioyned together, ye giue them occasiō that they be not good. Let vs know what thing warre is, and then wee shall see, whether it bee good or euill to follow it.
In warres they doe nought else but kill men, robbe the Temples, spoyle the people, destroy the Innocents, giue liberty to theeues, separate friends, and rayse strife: all the which things cannot bee done without great hurt of iustice, and scrupulosity of conscience.
The seditious man himselfe cannot denie vs, that if two Princes take vpon them warres betweene them, & that both of them seeme for to haue right, yet the one of them onely hath Warres vniustly taken in hand, neuer come to good end. reason: So that the Prince which shall fight against Iustice, or defende the vniust cause, shall not escape out of that warre iustified: Not issuing out-iustified, hee shall remaine condemned: and the condemnation shall bee, that all the losses, murthers, burnings, hangings, and robberies, which were done in the one, or other common-wealth, shal remaine vpon the account of him, which took vpon him the vniust warre, Although he doth not find another Prince that will demand an account of him heere in this life, yet hee shall haue a iust Iudge that will in another place lay it to his charge.
The Prince which is vertuous, & presumeth to bee a Christian, before he beginne the warre, ought for to consider what losse or profite will ensue thereof. Wherein if the end be not prosperous, he loseth his goodes and honour: and if he perchauce attaine to that he desired, peraduenture his desire was to the damage of the Common-Wealth, and then hee ought not to desire it. For the desire of one should not hurt the profite of all.
When God our Lord did create Princes for Princes, and people accepted them for their Lordes, It is to beleeue that the Gods did neuer commaund such things, nor the men would euer haue excepted such if they had thought that Princes wold not haue done that they were bound: but rather that whereunto they were inclined. For if men follow that wherunto their sensuality enclineth them, they alwayes erre: therfore if they suffer themselus to be gouerned by reasō they are alwayes sure. And besides that, Princes shold not take vpon thē [Page 399] warres, for the burdening of their consciences, the mis-spending of theyr goods, and the losse of their honour: they ought also to remember the duties that they owe to the Commonwealth, the which they are bound to For what reason wars ought not to be taken in hand. keepe in peace and iustice. For wee others need not gouernours to search vs enemyes, but good Princes, which may defend vs from the wicked.
The diuine Plato in his 4. booke De Legibus sayth: that one demaunded him why hee did exalt the Lydians so much, and so much dispraise the Lacedemonians, &c?
Plato aunswered: If I commend the Lydians, it is for that they neuer were occupyed but in tylling the Fielde: and if I doe reproue here the Lacedemonians, it is because they neuer knew nothing else but to conquere realmes. And therfore I say, that more happy is that realme, where men haue their hands with labouring full of blysters: then where their arms in fighting, are wounded with Swordes. These words which Plato spake are very true, and would to GOD that in the gates & harts of Princes they were written.
Plinius in an Epistle sayeth: that it was a Prouerbe, much vsed amongst the Greekes: That hee was king, which neuer saw king. The like may we say, that he onely may enioy peace, which neuer knewe what warres meant.
For, simple and innocent though a man bee, there is none but will iudge him more happy, which occupieth his hand kerchiefe to drye the sweate off his browes: then he that breaketh it to wipe the bloud off his head.
The Princes and great Lords which are louers of warres, ought to consider, that they doe not only hurt in generall all men, but also especially the good: and the reason is, that although they of their owne wills doe abstaine from Battell, doe not spoyle, doe not rebell, nor slay: yet it is necessary for them to endure the iniuryes, and to suffer their owne losse and damages: For none are meete for the warre, but those which little esteeme theyr life; and much lesse their consciences.
If the warre were only with the euill against the euill, and to the hurte and hinderance of the euill, little should they feele, which presume to be good. But I am sorrie the good are persecuted: the good are robbed: and the good are slaine. For, if it were otherwise (as I haue saide,) the euill against the euill, we would take little thought both for the vanquishing of the one, and much lesse for the destruction of The warre, destruction, of the good and godly men. the other. I aske nowe, what fame, what honour, what glorie, what victorie, or what Riches in that warre can be wonne, wherin so many good, vertuous, and wise men are lost?
There is such penurie of the good in the world, and such neede of them in the common-wealth: that if it were in our power, we with our tears ought to plucke them out of their graues, and giue them life: and not to leade them into the Warres, as to a shambles to be put to death.
Plinie in one Epistle, and Seneca in another, say: that when they desired a Romaine Captaine that with his armey he should enter into a great danger, whereof great honour should ensue vnto him, and little profite to the Commonwealth. He made answere.
For nothing would I enter into that daunger, if it were not to giue life to a Romane Citizen: For I desire rather to goe enuironned with the good in Rome, then to goe loaden with treasures into my Countrey.
Comparing Prince to Prince, and law to law, and the Christan with the Pagan: without comparison the soule of a Christian ought more to be esteemed thē the life of a Romane; For the good Romane obserueth it as a law, to dye in the warre, but the good christian hath the precept, to liue in peace.
[Page 400] Snetonius Tranquillus in the second Booke of Caesars sayeth, That among all the Romane Princes there was no Prince so well beloued, nor yet in the warres so fortunate as Augustus was.
And the reason hereof is, because that Prince neuer beganne any war, The reason why the Emperozr Augustus was o fortunate. vnles by great occasion he was thereunto prouoked. O, of how manie princes (not Ethnicks, but Christians) we haue heard and read all contrary to this, which is, that were of such large conscience, that they neuer took vpon them any warre that was iust, to whom I swear and promise, that since the warre which they in this worlde beganne, was vniust: the punishment which in another they shall haue is most righteous.
Xerxes King of the Persians being one day at dinner, one brought vnto him verie faire and sauourie figges of the prouince of Athens: the which beeing set at the table, hee sware, by the immortall Gods, and by the bones of his predecessors, that hee would neuer eate figges of his Countrey, but of Athens, which were the best of all Greece. And that which by words of mouth king Xerxes sweare, by valiant deedes, with force and shield hee accomplished, and went forthwith to conquer Grecia, for no other cause but for to fill himselfe with the figges of that Countrey, so that hee beganne that warre not only as a light prince, but also as a vitious man.
Titus Liuius sayeth, that when the French men did taste of the wine of Italy, immediately they put them selues in Armes, and went to conquer the Country, without hauing any other occasion to make warre against them: So that the Frenchmen for the licoriousnesse of the pleasant wines, lost the deare bloud of their owne hearts.
King Antigonus dreamed one night, that hee saw King Methridates with a Sithe in his hand, who like a Mower did cut all Italy, And there fell such feare to Antigonus, that hee A dreame of King Antigonus. determined to kill King Methridates: so that this wicked prince for crediting a light dreame, set all the world in an vprore.
The Lumbardes being in Pannonia, heard say that there was in Italy sweet fruits, sauourie flesh, odorifetous Wines, faire Women, good Fish, little colde, and temperate heate: the which newes moued them not onely to desire them, but also they tooke weapons to goe conquer Italie: So that the Lumbardes came not into Italy to reuenge them of their enemies, but to bee there more vicious and riotous.
The Romanes and the Carthagenians were friendes of long time, but after they knew that there was in Spaine great mynes of gold and siluer, immediately arose betweene them exceeding cruell warres, so that those two puissant Realmes, for to take from each other their goods, destroied their owne proper Dominions.
The Authors of the aboue saide, were Plutarchus, Paulus Diaconus, Berosus, and Titus Liutus. O secrete iudgements of God, which sufferest such things! O mercifull goodnes of thee my Lord, that permitteth such things, that through the dreame of one prince in his chamber, another for to robbe the treasures of Spaine, another to flye the colde of Hungarie, another to drinke the Wines of Italy, another to eate figs of Greece, should put all the Countrey to fire and bloud.
Let not my penne bee cruell against all Princes which haue vniust warres: For as Traianus sayd, Iust warre is more worth then fained peace. [Page 401] I commend, approue, and exalt princes which are carefull and stout, to defend and keepe that which their predecessors left them: For admitte that for dispossessing them, hereof commeth all the breach with other princes.
Looke how much his enemy offendeth his conscience for taking it: so much offendeth he his Commonwealth for not defending it. The wordes which the diuine Plato spake in the first booke of his Lawes, did satisfie me greatly, which were these: It is not meete we should be too extream in commending those which haue peace: nor let vs bee too vehement in reproouing A true saying of Plato. those which haue warre: For it may bee now, that if one haue warre, it is to the end to attaine peace, And for the contrary, if one haue peace, it shall be to the end to make warre. Indeed Plato sayd very true For it is more worth to desire short warre for long peace, then short peace for long warre.
The Philosopher Chilo being demanded whereby a good or euill Gouernour might be knowne, he answered. There is nothing whereby a good and euill man may bee better known then in that for which bey striue. For the tyrannous Prince offereth himselfe to aye to take from another, but the vertuous Prince trauelleth to defend his owne.
When the Redeemer of this world departed from this world, hee sayde not, I giue yee my warre, or leaue yee my warre: but I leaue you my peace, Our Sauiour Christ the true patterne of peace. and giue you my peace. Thereof ensueth, that the good Christian is bound to keepe the peace, which Christ so much commaunded, then to inuent warre to reuenge his proper iniurie, which God so much hated.
If Princes did that they ought for to doe, and in this case would beleeue mee: for no temporall thing they should condiscend to shedde mans bloud, if nothing else, yet at the least the loue of him which on the Crosse shedd his precious bloud for vs, should from that cleane disswade vs. For the good Christians are commaunded to bewayle their owne sinnes: but they haue no licence to shed the bloud of their enemies.
Finally, I desire, exhort, and further admonish all princes and great Good coū sell, and worthy to be followed. Lords, that for his sake that is prince of peace, they loue peace, procure peace, keepe peace, and liue in peace. For in peace they shall bee rich, and their people happie.
CHAP. XIIII. The Emperour Marcus Aurelius writeth to his friend Cornelius, wherein hee describeth the discommodities of warre, and the vanitie of Triumph.
MArcus Aurelius wisheth to thee Cornelius his faithfull friend, health to thy person, and good lucke against all euil fortune. Within fifteene dayes after I came from the warre of Asia, whereof I haue triumphed here in Rome, remembring that in times past thou wert a companion of my trauell: I sent immediately to certifie thee of my triumphes: For the noble hearts doe more reioyce of their friends ioy, then they do of their owne proper delights.
If thou wilt take paines to come when I send to call thee, bee thou assured, that on the one part, thou shalt haue much pleasure to see the [Page 402] great abundance of riches that I haue brought out of Asia, and to beholde my receiuing into Rome: and on the other, thou canst not keepe thy selfe from weeping to see such a sorte of Captiues (the which entred in before the triumphant chariots) bound and naked, to augment the conquerours most glory: and also to them vanquished to be a greater ignomie. Seldome times we see the Sun shine bright all the day long, but first in the Summer there hath beene a mist, or if it be in the winter, there hath beene a frost.
By this Parable, I meane, that one of the miseries of this world is, that wee shall see few in this world which now bee prosperous: but before haue had fortune, in some cases, very malitious: For wee see by experience, some come to bee very poore, and other chaunce to attaine to great riches: so that through the empouerishing of those, the other become rich and prosperous.
The weapon of the one causeth the other to laugh: so that if the bucket that is empty aboue, doth not goe downe, the other which is ful beneath cannot come vp.
Speaking therefore according to sensuality, thou wouldest haue beene glad that day to haue seene our triumph, with the abundance of riches, the great number of Captiues, the diuersity of beasts, the valiantnes of the Captaines, the sharpenesse of wittes Dangers incident to warres. which wee brought from Asia, and entred into Rome, wherby thou mightest well know the daungers that wee escaped in the ware.
Wherefore speaking the truth the matter betweene vs and our enemies was so debated, that those of vs that escaped best, had their bodies sore wounded, and their veins also almost without bloud.
I let thee know my Cornelius, that the Parthians are warlike men, & in dangerous enterprises very hardie and bold. And when they are at home in their Country, euery one with a stout hart defendeth his house: and surely they doe it like good men, and valiant Captaines: For if we other Romanes, without reason, and through ambition, doe goe to take an other mans, it is meete and iust, that they by force doe defend their owne.
Let no man through the aboundance of malice, or want of wisedom enuie the Romane Captaine; for any triumph that is giuen him by his mother Rome: for surely to get this onely one dayes honour, he aduentureth his life a thousand times in the field: I will not speake all that I might say of them that wee ledde foorth to the warres, nor of them which wee leaue here at home in Rome, which bee all cruell Iudges of our fame: for theyr iudgement is not vpright according to equity, but rather proceedeth of malice and enuie. Though they take mee for a patient men, and not farre out of order, yet I let thee know my Cornelius, that there is no patience can suffer, nor heart dissemble to see many Romanes to haue such great enuie, (which through their malitious tongues) passe not to backebite other mens triumphes. For it is an olde disease of euill men, through malice to backebite that with theyr tongue, which through their cowardnesse, they neuer durst enterprise with their hands.
Notwithstanding all this, you you must know, that in the warre you must first often hazard your life, and Enuie and malice a deadly foe to true honour. afterwards to the discretion of such tongues commit your honour. Our folly is so foolish, and the desires of men so vaine, that more for one vaine word, then for any profite, wee desire rather to get vaine glory with traue), [Page 403] then to seeke a good life, with rest. And therefore willingly wee offer our liues now, to great trauell and paine: onely that among vaine men hereafter we may haue a name.
I sweare by the immortall Gods, vnto thee my Cornelius, that the day of my triumph, whereas to the seeming of all those of this world, I went triumphing in the chariot openly: yet I ensure thee my heart wept secretly: Such is the vanitie of men, that thogh of reason wee be admonished, called, Mā putteth his life in danger only to winne honour. and compelled, yet if we flie from her, and contrarie: though wee be rebuked, euill handeled, and dispised of the world, yet we will serue it.
If I bee not deceyued, it is the prosperitie of Foolish men, and want of good iudgements, that cause the men to enter into others Houses by force, rather then to be desirous to be quiet in their owne, with a good will. I meane that wee should in following vertue sooner bee vertuous, then in haunting vices, be vicious: for speaking the truth, men which in all, and for all desire to please the world, must needes offer themselues to great trauell and care.
Oh Rome, Rome, cursed be thy folly, and cursed be he that in thee brought vp so much pride, and be he cursed of men, and hated of Gods, which in thee hath inuented such pompe. For, very fewe are they, that worthily vnto it haue attained: but infinite are they, which through it haue perished.
What greater vanitie, or what equall lightnes can bee, then that a Romaine captaine, because hee hath conquered Kingdomes, troubled quyet men, destroyed citties, beaten downe castles, robbed the poore, enriched tyrants, caried away treasors, shed much bloud, made infinite widowes, and taken many Noble mens liues, should be afterwardes (with great triumph of Rome,) receyued in recompence of all this damage?
Wilt thou now that I tell thee a greater follie, which aboue al other is greatest? I let thee know, infinite are they that dye in the wars, and one only carieth away the glorie thereof: So that these wofull and miserable men, thogh for their carkas they haue not a graue, yet one captaine goeth triumphing alone through Rome. By the immortall Gods I sweare vnto thee, and let this passe secretly, as between friends, that the day of my triumph, when I was in my triumphant chariot, beholding the miserable captiues, loden with yrons, and other men carrying infinite treasours, which wee had euill gotten: and to see the carefull widowes weepe for the death of theyr Husbandes, and remembred so many noble Romans that lost their liues in Affrike: thogh I seemed to reioice outwardly, yet I ensure How little the Emperour Marc: Aurelius esteemed vaine honours. thee I did weepe drops of bloud inwardly. For he is no man borne in the worlde, but rather a Furie, bred vp in hell among the Furies: that can at the sorrowes of another take any pleasure.
I know not in this case what reputation the Prince, or Captaine should make of himselfe, that commeth from the Warres, and desireth to enter into Rome? For, if hee thinke (as it is reason) on the wounds he hath in his bodie, or the Treasors which he hath wasted, on the places that he hath burnt, on the perills that he hath escaped, on the iniuryes which hee hath receiued, the multitudes of men which vniustly are slaine, the Friends which hee hath lost, the enemies which he hath goten, the litle rest that he hath enjoyed, and the great trauels that he hath suffered: in such case I say, that such a one with sorowful sighs ought to lamēt, & with bitter teares ought to be receiued. In this case of triumphing. I neither commend the Assyrians, nor enuie the Persians, nor am content with the Macedonians, nor allowe the Caldeans, nor content me with the Greekes.
[Page 404] I curse the Troians, and condemne the Cathagenians, because that they proceeded not acording to the zeale of iustice, but rather of the rage of pride, to set vp triumphes, endamaged their countries, and left an occasion to vndoe vs.
O cursed Rome, cursed thou hast beene, cursed thou art, and cursed thou shalt be: For if the fatall destenies Wherefore the Emperour cursed Rome. doe not lye vnto mee, and my iudgement deceiue me not, and fortune fasten not the naile: they shall see of thee Rome in time to come, that which we others presently see of the Realmes past. Thou oughtest for to know, that as thou by tyranny hast made thy selfe Lady of Lords: so by iustice thou shalt returne to bee the seruant of seruants.
O vnhappy Rome, and vnhappy againe, I returne to call thee. Tell mee I pray thee, why art thou at this day so dear of Marchandize, & so cheape of folly? where are the ancient fathers which builded thee, and with their vertues honored thee? in whose stead presently thou magnifyest so manie tirants, which with their vices deface thee. Where are all those noble and vertuous Batons, which thou hast nourished, in whose stead thou hast now so many vicious and vagabonds? Where are those, which for thy liberty did shed their bloud, in whose stead now thou hast those, that to bring thee into subiection, haue lost their life? Where are thy valiant Captaines, which with such great trauell did endeauour themselues to defend the walls from enemies, in whose stead haue succeeded those that haue plucked them down, and peopled them with vices and vicious? where are thy great priests, they which did alwayes pray in the temples, in whose stead haue succeeded those, that know not but to defile the churches, and with their wickednesse to moue the gods to wrath? where are those so many Philosophers and Oratours which with their counsell gouernd thee? in whose stead haue now succeeded so many simple and ignorant, which with their malice doe vndoe thee? O Rome, all those Auncients haue forsaken thee, and wee succeeded those which now are new, & if thou knewest truely the vertue of them, and diddest consider the lightnesse of vs: the day that they ended their life, the selfe same day not one stone in thee should haue beene lefte vpon another. And so those fields should haue sauoured of the bones of the vertuous, which now stinke of the bodies of the vicious.
Peraduenture, thou art more auncient then Babylon, more beautifull then Hierusalem, more rich then Carthage, more strōg then Troy, more in circuite then Corinth, more pleasāt Rome in ancient time the most flourishing City of the world. then Tirus, more fertile then Constantinople, more high then Camena, more inuincible then Aquileta, more priuiledged then Gādes, more enuironed with Towers then Capua, and more flourishing then Cantabria.
We see that all those notable Cities perished, for all their vertuous defenders: and thinkest thou for to remaine, being replenished with so much vice, and peopled with so many vitious?
O my mother Rome, take one thing for a warning, that the glory which now is of thee, was first of them, and the same destructiō that was of them shall hereafter light vpon thee for such is the world.
For thus goeth the world, euen as we presently see the troubles of them that be past: so shall those that be to come, see ours that be present.
CHAP. XV. Marcus Aurelius goeth on with his Letter, and declareth the order that the Romanes vsed in setting foorth their men of warre, and of the outragious villanies which Captaines and Souldiers vse in the warre.
I Will now declare vnto thee, my frend Cernelius, the order which wee haue to The Emperour goeth on with his letter, touching the order of warre. set foorth men of Warre and thereby thou shalt see the great disorder that is in Rome: For in the olde time there was nothing more looked vnto, nor more corrected then was the discipline of Warre: And for the contrary, now a dayes there is nothing so dissolute, as are our wen of warre.
Newes once spred abroad throgh the Empire, how the Prince doeth take vpon him any warre, immediately diuers opinions engender amongst the people, and euery one iudgeth diuersly vpon the warre: For as much as one sayeth it is iust, and the Prince that taketh it vpon him is iust. Others say, that it is vniust, and that the Prince which beganne it is a tyrant: The poore and sedtious persons doe allow it, to the end they might goe, and take other mens goods by force. The rich and patient doe condemne it, because they would enioy theyr owne in quiet: So that they doe not iustifie or condemne warre, according to the zeale of iustice: but according to the little or much profite, that shall follow them of that enterprise: I commād which am a Romane Emperor, warre to be proclamed, because a City or prouince hath rebelled, and that according to their Custome they doe not obserue the ceremonies of Rome. First you must vnderstand, the Priests must be called to go immediately to pray to the immortal Customes which the Romanes vsed before they went to the war. Gods: for the Romane people neuer went to shead the bloud of theyr Enemies in warres: but first the Priests did shed the tears of their eyes in the Temples.
Secondly, all the sacred Senate doth goe to the Temple of the God Iupiter, and there they sware all with a solemne oath, that if the enemies, (against whom they goe) do require a new confederation with Rome, or demaund pardon of their faults committed: that (all reuengement laid aside) they shal not deny to giue them mercy.
Thirdly, the Consull which is appointed for to bee the Captaine of the warre, went to the High Capitoll, and there hee maketh a solemn vow to one of the Gods, which liketh him best, that hee will offer him a certaine Iewell, if hee returne victorious of the same Warre: and though the Iewell which hee doth promise, bee of great value, yet all the people are bound for to pay it.
The fourth is, that they set vp in the Temple of Mars the Ensigne of the Eagle, which is the auncient Romane Ensigne, and that is, that all the Romanes take it for commandement, that no spectacle nor feast bee celebrated in Rome, during the time that their brethren be in the warres.
The fift, A Pretour mounteth vppe to the roppe of the gate of Salaria: and there hee bloweth the Trumpet for to muster men of Warre, and they bring foorth the Standers and Ensignes, to diuide them among the Captaines.
[Page 406] How fearefull a thing it is to see, that so soone as the Captaine is enuironed with the ensigne, so soone hath he licence to commit all euills and villanies. So that hee taketh it for a brauery to robbe the Countries whereby hee passeth, and to deceyue those with whom hee practiseth. What liberty Captaines and Gouernours of warre haue to doe euill, and to be euill, it is very manifest in those whom they lead in their company: For the sonnes leaue their fathers, the seruants their Lords, the Schollers their Masters, the Officers, their offices, the Priests their Temples, the amorous their loues: and this for none other cause, but that vnder the colour of the warre, their vices should not bee punished by iustice.
O my friend Cornelius, I know not how I should begin to say that which I will tell thee. Thou oughtest to know, that after our men of war are gone out of Rome, they neyther feare the Gods, neyther honour the Temples, they reuerence not the Priests, they haue no obedience to their Fathers, nor shame to the people, dread of iustice, neyther compassion of their Country, nor remember that they are children of Rome: and yet very few of them thinke to end theyr life, but that all shame layde aside, they loue the condemned idlenesse, and hate the iust trauell. Therefore hearke, I will tell thee more, & thogh it seemeth much that I speake, I ensure thee it is but little in respect of that they do, for so much as some rob temples, others spread rumors: these breake the dores, and those robbe the Gods. Sometimes they take the free, The great outrages that the Romane souldiers did. sometimes they loose the bond. The nights they passe in playes, the dayes in blasphemies, to day they fight like Lions, to morrow they flye like cowards. Some rebell against the Captaines, and others flie to the enemies. Finally, for all good they are vnable: and for all euill they are meet. Therefore to tell thee of their filthinesse, I am ashamed to describe them.
They leaue their owne wiues, and take the wiues of others, they dishonour the daughters of the good, and they beguile the innocent Virgines: there is no neighbout but they doe couet, neyther hostesse but that they doe force, they breake their old wedlocke, and yeerely seeke a new marriage: so that they do all things what they list, and nothing what they ought.
Doest thou thinke presently, my friend Cornelius, that there are few euils in Rome, fith so many euill women do goe to the warre? Heere for their sake, men offend the Gods: they are traytors to their Countrey, they deny their patentage, they doe come to extreame pouerty, they liue in infamie, they robbe the goods of others, they waste their owne, they neuer haue quiet life, neyther remayneth any truth in their mouthes: Finally, Lewde women oftentimes the cause of warre. for the loue of them, oftentimes war is moued again, and many good men lose their liues. Let vs leaue the reasons, and come to Histories.
Thou knowest right well, that the greatest part of Asia, was conquered and gouerned, more with the Women Amazones, then with any barbarous people.
That young, noble and valiant Porro, King of Iudea, for want of men and abundance of women, was ouercome of the great Alexander. Hannibal the terrible Captaine of the Carthagenians was alwayes Lord of Italy, vntill hee did permit women to goe to the warre. And when he fell in loue with a maden of Capua, they saw him immediately turne his shoulders vnto Rome. If Scipio the Affricane had not scoured the Romane Armyes [Page 407] of Leacherie, the invincible Numantia had neuer bin wonne.
The captaine Sylla in the warres of Mithridates, and the couragious Marius, in the warres of the Zimbres, had ouer their enemies so many victories, because in theyr Camps they suffered no women.
In the time of Claudius the Emperour, the Tharentines and Capuanes were very mortal enemres: insomuch as the one against the other, pitched their Campes; and by chaunce one day in the campe of the Capuanes, two captaines fell at variance, because they both loued one Woman: and when the Tharentines perceyued theyr dissension, immediately with their power they gaue them the onset.
Whereof ensued, that through the What mischiefe followed, by the [...]dnes of a strumpet. naughtinesse of one euill woman, was lost the Libertie of that goodly Cittie.
I had in this warre of Parthes sixteen thousand Horsemen, and twenty foure thousand footmen, and 35. thousand women, and the disorder in this case was so great, that from the Host I sent my wife Faustine, and the wiues of diuers other Senatours home to their houses, that they should keepe the olde, and nourish the young.
Our Fathers led women in the olde time to the warres, to dresse meare for the whole, and to cure the wounded: but now we lead them to the ende cowardes should haue occasion to bee Effeminate, and the valiaunt to be vicious. And in the ende, theyr Enemies doe breake their heads, but the women do wound their hearts.
I will that thou know manie other things (my Cornellus,) and they are, that the Gawles, the Vulcanes, the Flaminii, the Regii, the which are Priestes of the Mother Sybilla, of the God Vulcane, of the God Mars, and of the God Iupiter: the feare of the Gods set aside, leauing theyr Temples desart, laying off their honest garments, nor remembring their holie Ceremonies, breaking their streight vowes, an infinite number of them goe to the Campe, where they loue more dishonestly then others: For, it is a common thing, that those which once presume to be solicity and shamefaste after they are once fleshed, exceede all others in shame and vice.
It is a most dishonest thing to carrie Priests to the Warres, for their office is to pacifie the Gods with teares, and not to threatten men with Weapons.
If perchaunce Princes would say, It is good to carrie Priests to the warres to offer Sacrifices to the Gods: To Priestes exempt from warre. this I aunswere, that the Temples are buylt to pray, and the Fields ordained for to fight: So that in one place the Gods would bee feared, and in an other honoured and sacrificed.
In the yeare of the Foundation of Rome. 315. the Consul Vietro passed in to Asia, and went against the Palestines the which were rebelled against the Romanes, and by the way hee passed by the temple of Apollo, in the ysle of Delphos: and as there hee made a prayer vnto the God Apollo, very long, to the ende he would reueale vnto him whether he should return victorious from Asia, or not?
The Oracle answered.
Oh Consull Victro, if thou wilt returne victorious from thine Enemyes, restore The answer of the Oracle of Apollo. our Priestes, which thou hast taken from our Temples: For wee other Gods will not, that the man whome wee choose for our diuine seruice, yee others should lea [...]e, to all the vices of the World.
I [...] this be true (as it is true indeed) that the God Apollo saide vnto the Consull Vietro, mee thinketh it is no iust thing to condescend that the consecrated Priestes should goe, and endaunger to loose themselues, in the Warres,
[Page 408] For as thou knowest Cornelius, without doubt, greater is the offence which they doe commit in going for to vndoe themselues, then they doe in the seruice which they doe to Princes, beeing desirous to fight.
Let vs haue the Priests in the Temples to pray, and let vs see how the Captaines are wont to gouerne themselues, and in this case thou shalt finde that the day that the Senate How the Rumanes were wonte to make trial of their Captaines. doe appoint a Senatour for Captaine, they proue him if hee can play at the Weapons in the Theater.
The Consull leadeth him to the high Capitoll with him, the Eagle is hanged at his breast, they cast the purple vpon his shoulders, they giue him money of the common treasure, immediately hee groweth into such pride, that forgetting the pouerty past which hee suffered in his Country, he thinketh one day to make him Emperour of Rome.
It is a common thing that when fortune exalteth men of low estate, to high degree, they presume much, and know little, and much lesse what they are worth. So that if their feeble force were coequall to their high minde, one alone should suffice to ouercome their enemies, and also to winne many realmes.
The Captaines haue taken a custome now in Rome, and they tell mee that it is an inuention of Manritane, that is, that they doe tease their beardes, they crule their haires they clippe their wordes, they doe change their garments, they accompany with murderers, they goe the most part armed, they goe very fast to seeme fierce, and to conclude they little esteeme to be beloued and take it a great glory to be feared.
And to the entent thou shouldest know, my Cornelius, how much they would bee feared, I will recite thee an history, which is, That I standing one day in Penthapolin, a Captaine of mine, I hearing him, and he not seeing me, for so much as they would not let him doe all that hee would haue don in the house, he said vnto an hostice of his.
Yee other villaines did neuer know Captaines of Armes, therefore know it, if thou doest not know it mother, that the earth can neuer tremble but when it is threatned with a Romane Captaine, and the Gods doe neuer suffer the Sunne to shine, but where we others are obeyed.
Since thou hast now heard that he sayed, heare also the valiantnesse that he hath done. Within a short space after, the Captaine went vnto a battell in Arabia, where he was the first that fledde, and left the Standard alone in the field, the which had A reward giuen by the Emperour to a cowardly Captaine. almost made me to lose the battell: But I to recompence his valiant deed commanded his head to be cut off: For in giuing the onset vpon the enemies, the flying of one man doth more hurt, then the fighting of two thousand doth profite. I haue oftentimes heard the Emperour Traian my Lord say, That the men which in peace seem most fierce, in wars commonly are most cowards.
It chanceth that diuers things are compassed, for hauing onely a good eloquence, others for hauing witchcraft, others for being very diligent, others for opening their purse, and truely this is the most and best mean that is occupyed in Rome. But the affayres of warre doe not consist in talking many wordes before their friendes: but in fighting manfully in the field against their enemies: For in the end, men most full of words, are for the most part cowards in deedes. What wilt thou I tell thee more, my Cornelius, of the [Page 409] iniuries which the Captaines doe in the Cities, whereby they passe, of the slaunders which they rayse in the prouinces where they abide? I let thee know, that the litle worme doth not so much harme that gnaweth the wood, the moth to the garments, the sparke vnto the towe, the Locust vnto the corne, neither the wyuell to the garners, as the Captaines to the people. For they leaue no beast but they lull, nor orchard but they robbe, nor wine but they drinke, nor doue house but they clime, nor temple but they spoile, nor chace but they hunt, no sedition but they rayse, no villany but that they commit. And they do more then they ought to do, for they eate without meaning to pay, and they will not serue vnlesse they be wel payed: and the worst of all is, that if they haue their pay, immediately they change or play it If they be not paide they robbe and mutine forthwith: so that with pouertie they are not content, and with riches they waxe vicious and insolent. The matters is now come to such corruption, and there is at this day men of warre in Rome so carelesse, that here no captaine seems but an example of murderers, a sturrer vp of sedicious persons, an enuyer of the good, a partaker with all euill, a thiefe of theeues, a Pirate of rouers, and finally, I do not say that they seeme to bee: but I doe affirme that they are the scourge of your vertuous, and a refuge of the vitious.
I would not say this, but yet not withstanding, I ought to say it, because it is a thing so farre out of order, and so much to bee laughed at: that these wicked men though they are our familiar enemies, there is no Prince that ruleth them, nor Iustice that correcteth them, nor feare that doth oppresse them, nor law that subdueth them, nor shame that refraineth them, nor parents that correct them, nor punishment that doth abase them, nor yet death that dooth end them, but now as men which are without remedy, wee let them eate of all.
CHAP. XVI. The Emperour Marcus Aurelius pursueth his Letter, shewing the great damages that haue ensued for the wars begunne with strange realmes.
O Vnfortunate Rome who was not wont Marcus Aurelius continueth his letter, shewing the detriment that followeth wars. to haue such euill lucke, but the elder thou art, the more vnluckie I see thee: For by writings wee reade, and also with our eyes we see, that the more fortunate a city or person hath beene in the beginning, the more froward fortune is vnto him in the ending. Truly in those ancient times, and in those glorious worlds, I say, when they were peopled with true Romanes, and not as now (they which haue no children but bastards) the Armies were so well taught that came from Rome as the philosophers which were in the schooles of Greece. If the Greeke writings doe not lye vnto me, Philip the great King of Macedony, for this is so renowmed in histories, and his sonne the Great Alexander for this was so fortunate in the Warres, that they had their armies so well correct, that it rather seemed a Senate which gouerned, then a Campe which fought.
In that wee can gather out of Titus Liuius, and other Writers, from the time of Quintus Cincinnatus Dictator, vntill the noble Marcus Marcellus, [Page 410] were the most prosperous times of the Romane Empire. For before Kings did trauell, and afterwardes it was persecuted with Tirants.
In these so happy times, one of the greatest felicities that Rome had, was to haue the warre-like discipline well What felicity the ancient Romans tooke in warlike discipline. corrected. And then Rome beganne to fall when our Armies beganne to doe damage: For if those of the war haue truce with vices, the others of the Common wealth cannot haue peace with vertues.
O cursed bee thou Asia, and cursed bee the day that with thee wee had conquest: For wee haue not seene the good that haue followed vs of thy conquest, vntill this present, and the losse & damage which from thee come vnto vs shall be lamented in Rome for euer.
O cursed Asia we spend our treasures in thee, and thou hast giuen vnto vs thy vices. In chaunge of our valiant men, thou hast sent vs thy fine mineons, wee haue wonne thy Cities, and thou triumphest of our vertues. Wee battered thy fortes, and thou hast destroyed our manners: we triumph of thy Realmes, and thou diddest cut the throtes of our friends. Wee made to thee cruell warres, & thou conquerest from vs the good peace. With force you were ours, and with good will wee are yours: Wee are vniust Lords of thy riches, and iust tenants of thy vices.
Finally, thou Asia, art a wofull graue of Rome, and thou Rome art a filthie sinke of Asia. Since our auncient Fathers did content themselues with Rome alone, why should not we their children content our selues with Rome and Italy? but that wee must goe to conquer Asia, where we aduentured our honour, and spende our treasure? If those auncient Romanes, beeing as they were, so princely Barons of life, and so valiant in fighting, and so hardy for to commaund, did content themselues with this little border: why shoulde not wee content our selues, not beeing as they are, hauing a Realme rich, and vitious? I know not what toye tooke vs in the head, to goe conquer Asia, and not to contente our selues with Rome? Italy was not so poore of riches, nor so destitute of Cities, nor so vnpeopled of people, nor so solitary of beasts, nor so vndecked with buildings, nor so barren of good fruits: but that of all these thinges wee had more then our fathers wished, and also more then wee their children deserued: For mee I would say, that it is for want of iudgement, or aboundance of pride, for vs to seeke to exceed our Forefathers in Seigniorie, when wee are not coequall vnto them in vertue. I was contented with all things of my forefathers, saue onely that they were a little proude and seditious, and herein wee their children doe resemble them well.
For so much as we are not onely proude and feditious, but also couetous and malitious: so that in vertuous things wee goe backeward, and in vnlawfull workes wee goe forward. What is become of the great victories that our forefathers had in Asia? What is become of the infinite Treasure they haue robbed in the Countrey? What is become of the great number of captiues, that they tooke in the warre: What is become of the riches which euery one brought home to his house? What is becom of the valiant Kinges which they tooke in that Conquest?
What is become of the Feastes and Triumphes, wherewith they entred triumphing into Rome?
VVhat wilt thou I say more vnto thee in this case? (my friende [Page 411] Cornelius) but that all they which inuented the warre are dead, all those which defended that Countrey are dead, all those which entred triumphing into Rome are dead: and finallie, all the riches and triumphes which our Fathers brought from Asia, they and those in short space had an end, except the vices and pleasures whereof wee see there is no end.
O if the valiant Princes knew, what a thing it is to inuent wars in strange Realmes, what trauels they seeke for their persons, what cares in their hearts, what trouble to their subiects, what waste to their treasures, what pouerty to their friends, what pleasures to their enemies, what destruction of the good, what liberty of the euill, and what occasion they giue to strangers to speake, what vniuersall euill they sow in their naturall Countries, and what euill poyson they do leaue to their heires: I sweare by the faith of a good man, that if as I feele it, Princes did feele it, and as I taste it, Princes did taste it, and also as I haue proued it, princes did proue it: I doe not say, that with effusion of bloud I would take realmes by force: but also they offering them to mee with teares, I would not take them willingly. For speaking the truth, It is not the point of valiant Princes for to sustain an other mans, to put their owne in ieopardy.
I aske now, what profite tooke Rome of the conquest of Asia? I admit that it durst conquer it, that it was hardy in winning it, obstinate in fighting, and happy in taking it: should it therefore be fortunate in maintayning it? I say and affirme, and of that I say, I doe not repent mee: That it is possible to take Asia, but it is but a follie to presume to maintaine and defend it.
Doest thou not thinke it a great folly to presume to maintaine Asia, since there neuer commeth newes of a victory, but that it is occasion of What mischiefe came to Rome by conquering Asia. an other battell, and that for to sustaine watre, they robbe all Italy? In Asia our money is spent, our children are perished.
In Asia dyed our Fathers, for Asia they make vs pay tributes: In Asia the good horses are consumed: Into Asia they carry all our corne: In Asia all the theeues are nourished: From Asia commeth all the seditious persons: In Asia all the good doe perish: From Asia, they send vs all the vices. And finally, in Asia all our treasures are spent, and in Asia all our excellent Romanes are killed.
And sith this is the seruice that Asia doth to Rome, why will Rome continue warre with Asia? Other Princes before vs haue conquered Asia, taken Asia, and possessed Asia: but in the end, when they saw that it was a Countrey, where they feared not the Gods, nor acknowledged subiection to their Princes, neyther that they were apt to retaine lawes, they determined to forsake them, because they found by experience, that they neyther weary their bodies with warres, neither winne their harts with benefits. Those Princes being hardy, nor so bold to sustain Asia by land, should we others presume to succour it by sea? They forsake it being neighbours, and will wee others maintaine it beeing strangers? In my opinion, Asia is a Country, where all the valiant men haue employed their valiantnesse, where all the fooles haue proued their folly, where al the proud haue shewed their pride, where all the Princes entered in with might, where all thetyrants haue employed theyr Life: [Page 412] but in the end, it neither profiteth the one to will it, nor to the others to knowe it, and yet much lesse to vanquish it.
I know not the man that loueth Asia, that willeth well to Asia, that speaketh well of Asia, or that fauoureth the things of Asia: since shee giueth vs occasion to speake daily, to sigh nightly, and to weepe hourely.
If men attayned to the secrete to know the Fatall Destenyes, with the which the Goddes haue created Asia: they would not striue so much in the conquest therof. For, the Gods haue created it in such a signe, that it shold be a common pasture where all feede, The great miseries that were specified of Asia. a common Market, where all sell: a common-Inne, where all rest: a common table where all play: a common House, where all dwell: a common Countrey, where all remaine: and thereof it commeth, that Asia is desired of manie, and gouerned of fewe. For, beeing as it is a common countrey, euery man will make it his owne proper.
Peraduenture thou wilt thinke my friende Cornelius, that I haue spoken now all the euils of Asia: but hearken yet I will fourme thee a new question againe. For, according to the dammages which haue followed (from Asia) to our mother Rome, time shall rather want to write, then matter to declare. Not without teares I say, that which I will say, that there was neuer any Romane captaine that did kill tenne thousand Asians, with the weapons he brought into Asia: but that hee lost a hundreth thousand Romanes, with the vices they brought to Rome. So that the Asians by the hand of their enemyes dyed with honour, and left vs Romanes aliue, full of their vices with infamie.
I aske now what they were that inuented to dine in common places, to suppe in secret gardens, to apparel the women as men in the Theaters, to colour the flesh of Priests with yeallow? to noynte the Women as men in the Bath, the Senatours going smelling to the Senate? Princes to be apparelled with purple, against the auncient decree? To eate twice in the day, as the tyraunt Dennys did, to keepe Harlots and concubines as they of Tyre doe: to speak blasphemie against the gods, which were neuer hearde of before in the Empire? These said vices of Asia, What vices were brought to Rome, from Asia. Asia hath presently sent to Rome.
At the same time, when in those parts of the Orient, the warre was kindeled: tenne valiant captains brought these vices to Rome, whose names my penne shall pardon to tell, because their vile offences should not obscure theyr valiaunt deedes. Before that Rome conquered Asia, we were rich, wee were pacient, wee were sober, we were wise, we were honest, and aboue all, we liued well contented.
But now since that time we haue giuen our selues to forget the pollicyes of Rome, and to learne the pleasure of Asia: so that all vices may be learned in Rome, as all Sciences may be heard in Greece.
By this aboue rehearsed, all warlike Princes may see, what profite they haue to conquer straunge Realms, &c. Let vs now leaue the vices, which in What incō uenience cō meth by cō quering strange Realmes, the warres are recouered; and talke of mony which the princes couet and loue. And in this I say, that there is no Prince brought into such extreame pouertie, as hee which conquereth a straunge countrey.
Oh Cornelius: thou hast not seene how Princes more of a will, then of necessitie, doe waste their treasures: how they demaund that of another mans, and how their owne doeth not suffice them: they take those of Churches: they seeke great Lones, they inuent great Tributes: they demaund great Subsidies: they giue strangers [Page 413] occasion to speake, and make themselues hated of their subjects. Finally, they pray theyr subiects, and humble themselues to their enemies.
Since I haue declared the dammages of warre: I will now declare what the originall of warre is.
For it is vnpossible that the physition applye vnto the sicke agreeable medecine, if we know not of what humour the sicknes doth proceed.
Princes, since they came of men, are nourished with men, doe counsell with men, and liue with men, and to conclude, they are men. Sometimes through pride, which aboundeth in them, somtimes through want of counsel, they themselues imagine, and other flattrers telleth, that thogh they haue much in respect of other princes, yet they can doe little. Also they say vnto them, that if their substaunce bee great, their Fame ought to bee greater.
Further, they tell them, that the good Prince ought little to esteeme that hee hath inherited of his predecessors, in respect of the great deale more hee ought to leaue to his successours, Also they tell them, that neuer prince left of him any great memory, but inuenting some cruell Warre against his enemie. Also they tell them that the houre that one is chosen Emperour of Rome, hee may boldely conquer the whole earth.
These vaine reasons being heard of the princes, afterwardes as their Fortune is base, and their mindes high, immediately they defie their enemies, they open their Treasures, they assemble great armies, and in the end of all, the Gods suffer, that they thinking to Warre the mean & occasion to make a cō monwealth poore. tkae an other mans goods, they waste and lose their owne.
Oh Princes, I knowe not who doth deceyue yee, that you which by peace may be rich, and by war wilbe poore? Oh Princes, I know not who doth deceiue you: that you which may be loued, doe seeke occasions to be hated? Oh princes, I knowe not who doth beguyle yee, that yee which may enioy a sure life, doe aduenture your selues to the mutabilitie of Fortune? Oh princes, I knowe not who doeth deceyue you: that you so little esteeme and weigh your owne aboundance, and so greatly set by the wants of others? Oh princes, I know not who doth deceiue you, that all hauing need of you, you should haue neede of others?
I let thee to knowe, my Cornelius, though a prince bee more quicke and carefull then all other his predecessors haue bin in Rome; yet it is vnpossible that all things touching warre, should succeede vnto him prosperously. For, How vncertaine the euent of Warre is, in the greatest neede of warres, eyther he wanteth money, or his subiects do not succour him, or time is contrarie vnto him, or he findeth perilous pasges, hee lacketh Artillerie, or the captaines rebell, or else succour commeth to his aduersaryes: so that hee seeth himselfe so miserable, that thoughtes doe more oppresse his heart, then the enemies do harme his land. Though a prince had no warre, but for to suffer men of warre, yet he ought to take vpon him no warre.
I aske thee now my Cornelius, what trauell so great to his person, or what greater damage to his Realme can his Enemies do, then that which his own men of warre doe, &c?
The Enemies, to doe the worst they can, will but robbe our Frontiers: but our men of War do robbe the whole countrey. The Enemies we dare, and may resist, but to ours we cannot, nor dare not speake. The Enemyes, the worst they can do, is once in a moneth to robbe and runne their wayes: but ours daily do robbe, and remaine still. The Enemyes feare their enemies only: but ours doe feare their enemyes, and haue no pitie on their friends.
[Page 414] The enemies, the further they goe on, the more they diminish: but ours, the further they goe, the more they encrease.
I know no greater warre that Princes can haue then to haue men of warre in their realmes: For as experience doth shew vs, before the Gods they are culpable, to Princes importunate, and to the people troublesome: so that they liue to the damage of all, and to the profit of none. By the God Mars I swear vnto thee, (my friend Cornelius) as hee may direct my hands in the war, that I haue more complaints in the Senate, of the thefts which my Captaines did in Illyria, then of all the enemies of the Romane people.
Both for that I say, and for that I kept secret, I am more afraid to create an Ensigne of two hundred men of warre, then to giue a cruell battell to thirty thousand men: For that battell, fortune (good or euill) forthwith dispacheth, but with these I can bee sure no time of all my life. Thou wilt say vnto me (Cornelius) that since I am Emperour of Rome, I should remedy this since I know it: For that Prince which dissembleth with the fault of another, by reason hee will condemne him, as if it were his owne.
To this I answere, that I am not mighty enough to remedy it, except by my remedy there should spring a greater inconuenience. And since thou hast not beene a Prince, thou couldest not fall into that I haue, nor yet vnderstand that which I say: For Princes by their wisdom know many things, the which to remedy they haue no power: So it hath beene, so it is, so it shall be, so I found it, so I keepe it, so will I leaue it them, so I haue reade it in bookes, so haue I seen it with my eyes, so haue I heard it of my predecessors: And finally, I say, our Fathers haue inuented it, and so will wee their children sustaine it, and for this euill wee will leaue it to our heyres. No greater hinderance to a Common wealth then to keepe men of warre.
I will tell thee one thing, and imagine that I erre not therein, which is, considering the great dammage and little profite, which men of warre do bring to our Common wealth: I thinke to doe it, and to sustaine it, eyther it is the folly of men, or a scourge giuen of the Gods. For there can be nothing more iust, then for the Gods to permit, that wee feele that in our owne houses, which wee cause others in strange houses to lament.
All those thinges I haue written vnto thee, not for that it skileth greatly that I know them: but that my heart is at ease for to vtter them: For as Alcibiades sayde, the chests and the hearts, ought alwayes to be open to their friends.
Panutius my Secretary goeth in my behalfe to visite that Land, and I gaue him this Letter to giue thee: with two Horses? wherewith I doe thinke thou wilt be contented, for they are Genets.
The Weapons and riches which I tooke of the Parthians, I haue now diuided, notwithstanding I do send thee two Chariots laden with them.
My wife Faustine greeteth thee, and shee sendeth a rich glasse for thy Daughter, and a iewell with stones for thy sister. No more but I doe beseech the gods to giue thee a good life, and me a good death.
CHAP. XVII. An Admonition of the Author to Princes and great Lordes, to the entent that the more they grow in yeares, the more they are bound to refrayne from vices.
AVlus Gelius in his booke De noctibus Atticis sayeth, that there was an auncient custome among the Romanes, to A custome among the auncient Romanes. honour and haue in great reuerence aged men. And this was so inuiolate a Law amongst them that there was none so noble of bloud and linage, neyther so puissant in riches, neyther so fortunate in battels that should go before the aged men, which were loden with white hayres: so that they honoured them as they did the Gods.
Amongst other, the aged men had these preheminences, that is to say, that in feasts they sate highest, in the Triumphes they went before, in the Temples they did sit downe, they spake to the Senate before all others, they had their garments furred, they might eate alone in secret, and by their onely word they were credited as witnesses.
Finally, I say, that in all thinges they serued them, and in nothing they annoied them. After the people of Rome beganne warre with Asia, they forsooke all their good Romane customes immediately.
And the occasion hereof was, that since they had no men to sustaine the Common-wealth, by reason of the great multitude of people which died in the warre: they ordained that all the young men should marry, the young maides, the widdows, the free and the bond, and that the honour which had beene done vntill that time vnto the olde men, from henceforth should bee done vnto the maried men, though they were yong: So that the most honoured in Rome was hee, not of most yeares, but he that had most children. This Law was made a little before the first battell of Carthage.
And the custome that the married men were more honoured then the old, endured vntil the time of the Emperour Augustus, which was such a friend of Antiquities, that hee renued all the walles of Rome with new stone, and renued all the auncient customes of the Common-wealth.
Lycurgus in the lawes which he Lycurgus his Lawes to the Lacedemonians. gaue to the Lacedemonians, ordayned, that the young men passing by the olde, should doe them great reuerence: and when the old men did speake, then the younger should be silent.
And hee ordained also, that if any olde man by casualtie did lose his goods, and came into extreame pouertie, then hee should be sustained of the Common wealth: and that in such sustentation they should haue respect, not onely to succour him, for to sustain him, but further to giue him to liue competently. Plutarch in his Apothegmes declareth, that Cato the Censor visiting the corners of Rome, found an olde man sitting at his dore weeping, and shedding many teares from his eyes. And Cato the Censour demanding him why he was so euill handled, and wherefore hee wept so bitterly? the good olde man answered him.
O Cato, the Gods beeing the only Comforters, comfort thee in all thy tribulations, since thou art ready to comfort mee at this wofull houre. As well as thou knowest that [Page 416] the consolations of the Heart are more necessarie, then the physicke of the bodie: the which being applyed sometimes doeth heale, and an other time they do harme. Behold my scabby hands, my swollen legs, my mouth without Teeth, my peeled Face, my white beard, and my balde head: for thou (beeing as thou art) discreete, shouldest be excused to aske mee why I weepe?
For men of my Age, though they weepe not for the little they feele: yet they ought to weep for the ouermuch they liue. The man which is loaden with teares, tormented with diseases, Death maketh an end fal worldly miserie. pursued with Enemies, forgotten of his friends, visited with mishaps, and with euill will and pouertie: I know not why he demandeth long life? For there can be no sharper reuengement of vices, which wee commit: then to giue vs long life.
Though now I am aged, I was young, and if any young man should doe me any iniurie, truely I would not desire the Gods to take away his life, but that they would rather prolong his life. For, it is great pittie to heare the man (which hath liued long) recount the troubles, which he hath endured.
Know thou Cato, if thou doest not know it, that I haue liued 77. yeares, and in this time, I haue buryed my Father, my Grand-father, two Aunts, and fiue vncles. After that I had buryed 9. Systers, and 11. Bretheren. I haue buryed afterwards, two lawfull wiues, and fiue bond-women, which I haue had as my lemmans.
I haue buryed also 14. children, and 7. marryed daughters: and therewith not contented, I haue buryed 37. Nephewes, and 15. Nieces, and that which grieueth me most of all is, that I haue buryed two good friendes of mine: One of the which remayned in Capua, and the other which remained was resident heere at Rome.
The death of whome hath grieued me more, then all those of my alyance and parētage. For, in the world there is no like losse to that, where a man looseth him whom entierly he loueth, and of whome also hee is deerely beloued.
The fatall Destenyes ought to content themselues, to haue annoyed my house with so many misfortunes. But all this, and aboue all this, they haue left me a wicked nephewe, which shall be mine heyre, and they haue left vnto me, that all my life I shall lament.
Oh Cato, for that thou owest to the Common-wealth; I doe desire thee: and by the immortal Gods I doe conjure thee, that since thou art a vertuous Romane, and Censor of the people, that thou prouide for one of these two things: that is to say, that this my nephew doe serue me, or else ordeyne that I dye forthwith. For, it is a great crueltie that those doe pursue mee, which are aliue, since it is now fourtie yeares, that I ceased not to bewayle the dead.
Cato beeing well informed of that the olde man had tolde him, and since he found all that true which he spake, he called vnto his presence the young Nephewe, and sayde vnto him these wordes:
If thou wert such a Childe as thou oughtest to bee, thou shouldest excuse mee of paine, and thy selfe of trauell. But since it is not so, I pray thee take paciently that which I shall commaund thee: and bee thou wel assured, that I will not commaund thee any thing but that which shal be correspondent to Iustice. A wise Sentence of Cato.
For, the vicious younglings (as thou art) ought to be more ashamed of the vnbrideled youthfulnesse they haue committed: then for all the punishments which is giuen vnto them:
First, I commaund thou bee whipt, because thou art become so disobedient, and troublesome to thy Graundfather.
[Page 417] Secondly, I commaunde that thou bee banished the limites of Rome: because thou art a vicious young man.
Thirdly, I commaund that of all the goods which thou hast enherited, thou shalt bee disinherited, because thou doest not obey thy Graundfather.
And the cause why I giue such seuere sentence is, to the ende that from henceforth the young shall not disobey the Aged, and also that those which haue inherited great treasours, shall not thinke that men should permit them to bee more vicious then others.
Phalaris the Tyraunt writing to a Friende of his, which was very aged, saide these words: the which seemed rather spoken of a Phylosopher, then A saying of Phalaris the Tyrant. of a tyrant. I haue maruelled at thee, and am offended with thee (my friend [...]) to know as I doe, that in yeares thou art very aged, and in workes very young: and also it grieueth mee that thou hast lost the credit of knowledge in the Schooles.
It grieueth me more, that through thee the priuiledges should bee lost, which the olde men haue accustomed to haue in Greece: that is to say, that all the thieues, all the periured, and all the murtherers were more sure, when by white hayres they seemed to bee olde: when they retired to the Aultars of the Temples.
Oh what goodnesse, Oh what wisedome, what valiantnesse, and what innocencie ought the aged men to haue in the auncient time: since in Rome, they honoured them as Gods, and in Greece they priuiledged those whyte haires as the temples?
Plinie in an Epistle he wrote to Fabarus saith, that Pyrrus king of the Epyrotes, demaunded of a phylosopher, which was the best citie of the world? who aunswered him thus:
The best Citie of the world is Molerda, a place of three hundreth Fyres in Achaia: because all the walles are of blacke stones, and all those which gouerne haue hoary heads.
And further he saide: Woe bee vnto thee Rome: Woe be vnto thee Carthage: A wise aunswere of a philosopher Woe be vnto thee Numantia: Wo be vnto thee Egipt: and woe bee vnto thee Athens; Fyue Cittyes which count themselues for the best of the Worlde: whereof I am of a contrary opinion.
For, they auaunte themselues to haue whyte Walles: and are not ashamed to haue young Senatours.
This phylosopher saide very well, and I thinke no man will say lesse then I haue saide.
Of this word Senex, is deriued the name of a Senatour: For so were the gouernours of Rome named: because the first King (that was Romulus,) chose an hundred aged men to gouerne the Common-wealth: and commaunded that all the Romane youth should employ themselues to the warres.
Since wee haue spoken of the honour which in the old time was giuen to the auncient men, it is reason wee know now, from what yeares they accounted men aged: to the end they should reuerently bee honoured as aged men.
For the makers of lawes, when they hadde established the honours which ought to be done to the Aged, did as well ordain, from what day and yeare they should beginne.
Diuers auncient phylosophers did put six ages, from the time of the birth of man, vntill the houre of his death. That is to say: Childe-hood, which lasteth vntill seuen yeares: Infancie, which lasteth vntill seuenteene yeares: Youth, which continueth till thirtie yeares: Mans estate, which remaineth The six Ages of mans life said opē & explaned. till fiftie and fiue yeares. Age, which endureth till three-score, and eighteene yeares: Then last of all, Crooked-age, which remaineth till death.
[Page 418] And so after man had passed fiue and fifty yeares, they called him aged.
Aulus Gelius in his tenth booke in the 27, Chapter sayth, that Fuluius Hostilius (who was King of the Romanes) determined to count all the olde and yong which were amongst the people: and also to know which should be called Infants, which yong and which old. And there was no little difference among the Romane Philosophers, and in the end it was decreed by the King, and the Senate, that men till seuenteene years should bee called Infants, and till sixe & forty should be called young, and from sixe and forty vpwards they should be called olde.
If wee will obserue the Law of the Romanes, wee know from what time we are bound to call and honor the aged men. But adding hereunto it is reason that the olde men know, to what prowesses and vertues they are bound, to the end that with reason, and not with fainting they bee serued: for speaking the truth, if wee compare duty to duty, the olde men are more bound to vertue then the young to seruice. Wee cannot deny but that all states of Nations (great & small, young and old) are bound to bee vertuous: but in this case, the one is more to bee blamed then the other.
For oftentimes if the young men doe offend, it is for that hee wanteth experience: but if the old man offend it is for the aboundance of malice:
Seneca in an Epistle sayde these words: I let thee know my friend Lucillus that l am very much offended, A graue sentence of Sences. and I doe complaine not of any friend or foe, but of my selfe and none other. And the reason why I thinke this, is that I see my selfe old in vices: so little is that wherein I haue serued the Gods, and much lesse is that I haue profited him.
And Seneca sayeth further, Hee which prayseth himselfe most to bee aged, and that would bee honoured for being aged, ought to bee temperate in eating, honest in appartell, sober in drinking, soft in words, wise in counsell, and to conclude, he ought to be very patient in aduersity, and far from vices which attempt him.
Worthy of prayse is the greate Seneca for those wordes: but more worthy shall the olde men, if they wil conforme their workes according to these words: For if wee see them for to abandon vices, and giue themselus to vertues: we will both serue them, and honour them.
CHAP. XVIII. That Princes when they are aged, should be temperate in eating, sober in drinking, modest in apparrell, and aboue all, true in communication.
IT is consonant to the counsell of Seneca, Good counsel of Seneca, worthy to be followed both of olde and young. that the aged should bee temperate in eating which they ought to doe, not onely for the reputation of their persons, but also for the preseruation of theyr liues.
For the olde men which are drunke and amorous, are persecuted with their owne diseases, and are defamed by the tongues of other. That which the ancient men should eate (I meane those which are noble and vertuous, ought to bee very cleane, and well dressed, and aboue all, that they doe take it in season & time: for otherwise, too [Page 419] much eating of diuers things, causeth the young to bee sicke, and enforceth the olde to die.
Young men though they eate dishonestly, very hastily, and eate speaking, we can doe no lesse but dissemble with them: but the olde men which eate much, and hastily, of necessitie we ought to reproue them. For men of How circū spect & wary men ought to be in eating & [...], Honour ought to eate at table with a great grauitie: as if they were in any counsell, to determine causes. It is not mine intention to perswade the feeble olde men not to eate, but onely to admonish them to eate no more then is necessarie.
We doe not prohibite them to eate delicate things, but to beware of superfluous things. We doe not counsell them to leaue eating, hauing need: but to withdraw themselues from curiositie.
For though it bee lawfull for aged men to eate sufficient, it is not honest for them to eate, to ouercome theyr stomacks.
It is a shame to write it, but more shame ought they to haue which doe it; which is: that the goods which they haue wonne and inherited by their predecessours, they haue eaten and drunken: so that they haue neyther bought House not vyne, nor yet marryed any Daughter: but they are naked, and their poore children goe to the Tauernes and Innes: and the miserable Fathers to the Hospitalles, and Churches.
When any man commeth to pouertie, for that his house is burned, or his shippe drowned: or that they haue taken all from him by Lawe: or that hee hath spent it in pleading against his enemies, or any other in conueniēce is come vnto him: me thinketh we are all bound to succor him, and the hart hath cōpassion to behold him: but he that spendeth it in Apparel not requisite, to seeke delitious Wines, and to eate delicate meates: To such a one (I would say,) that the pouertie which he suffereth, is not sufficient for his deserts. For of all troubles there is none so great, as to see a man suffer the euil, whereof hee himselfe hath bin the occasion.
Also, according to the counsell of Seneca, the Auncients ought to be wel aduertised, in that they should not only be temperate in eating, but likewise they should be sober in drinking: and this both for the preseruation of theyr health: as also for the reputation of their honestie.
For, if the olde physitians doe not Discommodityes that come by excesse of eating and drinking. deceyue vs, humaine bodyes doe drye and corrupt, because they drinke superfluously, and eate more then Nature requireth.
If I should say vnto the olde men, that they should drinke no wine: they might tell mee, that it is not the counsell of a Christian. But presuppose they ought to drinke, and that for no opinion they should leaue it: yet I admonish, exhorte, and desire them, that they drinke little, and that they drinke very temperate.
For the disordinate and immeasurate drinking, causeth the young men to be drunke, and the olde men, both drunke and foolish. Oh howe much authoritie lost they, and what grauitie doe honorable and ancient men lose, which in drinking are not sober?
Which seemeth to be true, forasmuch as the man being loden with wine, although he were the wisest in the world, he should bee a very foole, that would take counsel of such one in his affaires Plutarche in a booke which he made, of the Fortunes of the Romaines, saied: that in the Senate of Rome, there was an Auncient man, who made great exclametions, that a certaine young man hadde in such heinous sort dishonoured him, that for the iniuryes hee had spoken, he deserued death.
[Page 420] And when the yong man was called for to answere to that he had said vnto him; he answered: Fathers conscript, though I seeme young vnto you, yet I am not so young, but that I knew The answer of a young man to the Senate or Rome. the Father of this olde man, who was a vertuous and noble Romane, and somewhat a kinne to mee. And I seeing that his Father had gotten much goods fighting in the warres, and also seeing this oldeman spending them in eating and drinking: I sayde vnto him one day.
I am very sorry my Lord and vncle, for that I heare of thy honour in the market place: and am the more sorry, for that I see done in thy house, wherein we saw fifty men armed before in our houre, and now wee see a hundred knaues made drunke.
And worse then that, as thy Father shewed to all those that entered into his house the Ensignes hee had wonne in the Warres: so now to those that enter into thy house, thou shewest them diuers sorts of Wines.
My vncle complayned of mee, but in this case I make the Plaintife iudge against mee the defendant. And I would by the immortall Gods hee deserued no more paine for his workes, then I deserue by my words.
For if hee had been wise, he would haue accepted the correction which secretely I gaue him: and had not come openly, to declare his faults in the Senate.
The complaint of the old man being heard by the Senate, and the excuse in like manner of the yong-man: they gaue iudgement, that they should take all the goods from the olde man, and prouide him of a Tutour which should gouerne him and his house.
And they commaunded the Tutour, That from hence forward hee should not giue him one cuppe of Wine, since hee was noted of drunkennesse. Of truth the sentence which the Senate gaue was very iust: The iudgement of the Senate against drunkennes For the olde man which giueth himselfe to wine, hath as much neede to haue a Gouernour, as an Infant, or a foole.
Laertius made a booke of the Feasts of Philosophers, and declareth sundry auncient banquets, among the which hee putteth one, where were assembled many great Philosophers. And admit that the meates were meane, and simple: yet the bidden guests were sage.
And the cause why they did assemble, was not to eate, but to dispute of some graue doctrines, whereof the Philosophers did somewhat doubt: For in those dayes, the greater the Stoyckes and the Peripatetikes were in number: so much the more were the Philosophers diuided amongst themselues.
When they were so assembled, truly they did not eate, nor drinke out of measure: but some pleasant matter was moued betweene the masters and the schollers, betweene the young and the olde, that is to say, which of them could declare any secret of Philosophy, or any profounde sentence. O happy were such feasts, and no lesse happy were they that thether were bidden,
But I am sorry that those which now bidde, and those that are bidden, for a truth are not as those Ancients were: For there are no feastes now a dayes of Philosophers, but of gluttons, not to dispute, but for to murmure, not to open doubtfull things, but to talke of the vices of others, not to confirme auncient amities, but to beginne new dissentions, not to learne any doctrines, but to approue some nouelty. And that which worst of all is, the old striue at the table with the yong, not on him which hath spoken the most grauest [Page 421] sentence: but of him which hath drunke most wine, and hath rinsed most cups.
Paulus Diaconus in the history of the Lumbards declareth, that foure olde Lumbards made a banquet, in the which, the one dranke to the others yeares, and it was in this manner: They made defyance to drinke two to two, and after each man had declared how many yeares olde hee was: the one dranke as many times as the other was yeeres olde, and likewise his companion pledged him. And one of these foure companions had at the least 58. yeares: the second 63, the third 87. the fourth 92. so that a man knoweth not what they did eate in this banquet, eyther little or much: but wee know that hee that dranke least, dranke 58. cups of wine. An euill qustome vsed among the Goths.
Of this so euill custome came the Gothes to make this Law, which of many is read, and of a few vnderstood, where it sayeth, We ordaine and commaund on paine of death, that no olde man drinke to the others yeares being at the table. That was made because they were so much giuen to Wine, that they dranke more oft then they did eate morsels. The Princes and great lords which now are old, ought to be very sober in drinking, since they ought greatly to be regarded & honoured of the yong.
For speaking the truth, and with liberty, when the olde man shall be ouercome with wine, hee hath more necessity that the young man leade him by the arme to his house, then that hee should take off his cappe vnto him with reuerence.
Also Princes and great Lordes ought to bee very circumspect, that when they become aged, they bee not noted for young in the apparrel which they weare: For although hat for wearing a fine and riche garment, the Prince doth not enrich or empouerish his Commonwealth: yet wee cannot deny, but that it doth much for the reputation of his person: For the vanity and curiosity of garments, dooth shew great lightnes of mind. According to the variety of ages, so ought the diuersity of apparrell to bee, which seemeth to be very cleare, in that the young maides are attired in one sort, the married women of an other sort: the widdowes of an other.
And likewise I would say, that the apparrell of children ought to be of one sort, those of young men of an other, and those of olde men of an other, which ought to be more honester then all.
For men of hoary heades ought not to be adorned with precious garments: but with vertuous workes: Euery man ought for to weare apparrell according to his calling. To goe cleanely, to bee well apparrelled, and to bee well accompanied, wee doe not forbidde the olde, especially those which are noble and valiant men: but to goe fine, to go with great traines, and to go very curious, wee doe not allow. Let the old men pardon mee, for it is not the office but of yong fooles: for the one sheweth honesty, and the other lightnesse. It is a confusion to tell it, but it is greater shame to do it, that is to say, that many olde men of our time take no smal felicity to put caules on their heads, euery man to weare iewels on their necks, to lay their caps with agglets of gold, to seeke out diuers inuē tions of mettall, to loade their fingers with rich rings, to go perfumed with odoriferous sauors, to weare new fashioned apparrell: and finally, I say, that thogh their face be ful of wrinckles, they cannot suffer one wrinckle to be in their gowne. All the ancient histories accuse Quint. Hortensius the Romane, for that euery time when he made himselfe ready, hee had a glasse [Page 422] before him: and as much space and time had hee to streighten the pleytes of his gowne, as a Woman hadde, to trimme the haires of her head.
This Quintus Hortensius being Consull, going by chance one day through Rome, in a narrow streete met with the other Consull: where thorough the streightnes of the passage, the pleights of his Gowne were vndone: vppon which occasion hee complained vnto the Senate of the other Consull, that he had deserued to loose his life.
The Author of all this is Macrobius, in the third book of the Saturnales.
I can not tell if I be deceyued, but we may say, that all the curiositie that olde men haue to goe fine, well apparrelled, and cleane, is for no other thing but to shake off Age, and to pretende right to youth. What a griefe is it to Pride in the aged, ought to be neglected. see diuers auncient men, the which as ripe Figges do fall: and on the other side it is a wonder to see how in theyr age they make themselues young. In this case (I say) would to God wee might see them hate vices, and not to complaine of their yeares which they haue.
I pray and exhort all Princes and great Lordes, whome our soueraigne Lord hath permitted to come to age, that they doe not despise to bee aged: For speaking the truth, the man which hath enuie to seeme olde, doth delight to liue in the lightnes of youth. Also men of honor ought to be very circumspect: for so much as after they are become aged, they bee not suspected A lye in a young man hatefull, but in an olde man abhominable. of their friends, but that both vnto their friends and foes, they be counted faithfull. For a Lye in a young mans mouth, is esteemed but a lye: but in the mouth of an auncient or aged old man, it is counted as a haynous blasphemie.
Noble Princes and great Lordes after they are become aged, of one sort they ought to vse themselues to giue, and of the other to speake. For, good Princes ought to sell theyr wordes by weight, and giue rewardes without measure.
The Auncient do oftentimes complaine, saying: That the young will not bee conuersant with them; and truely if there be any faulte therein, it is of themselues. And the reason is, that if sometimes they doe assemble together, to passe away the time: if the old man set a talking, he neuer maketh an ende. So that a discrete man had rather goe a dozen miles on foot, then to heare an olde man talke three houres,
If with such efficacie we perswade olde men, that they be honest in theyr apparrell: for a truth we will not giue them licence to bee dissolute in theyr words, since there is a great difference to note some man in his Apparrell, or to accuse him to bee malitious, or a babler. For to weare rich and costly Apparell, iniurieth fewe, but iniurious words hurt manie.
Macrobius in his first booke of the dreames of Scipio, declareth of a Phylosopher named Crito: who liued an hundred and fiue yeares: and till fiftie yeares hee was farre out of course.
But after hee came to be aged, he was so well measured in his eating and drinking, and so warie in his speeche, that they neuer saw him do any thing worthy reprehension: nor heard him speake word, but was worthie of noting.
On this condition wee would giue licence to manie, that till fiftie yeares A worthy lesson, &c. they should bee young: So that from thenceforth they would be clothed as old men, speake as old men, and they should esteeme themselues to be olde But I am sorrie, that all the Spring time doth passe in flower, and afterwardes they fall into the graue as rotten, before they finde any time to pull them out.
[Page 423] The olde doe complaine that the young doe not take their aduise, and their excuse herein is, that in their words they are too long: For if a man doe demaund an olde man his opinion in a case, immediately hee will beginne to say, that in the life of such, and such Kings, and Lords of good memory, this was done, & this was prouided: so that when a young man asketh them counsel how hee shall be haue himselfe with the liuing: the olde man beginneth to declare vnto him the life of those which be dead.
The reason why the olde men desire to speake so long is that since for their age they cannot see, nor go, nor eate, nor sleepe, they would that all the time their members were occupied to doe their duties, all that time their tongue should bee occupied to declare of their times past. All this being spoken, what more is to say, I know not, but that wee should content our selues, that the olde men should haue their flesh as much punished, as they haue their tong with Olde men ought to be a lanterne to youth. talke martyred. Though it bee very vile for a young man to speake, and slaunder to a young man not to say the truth, yet this vice is much more to be abhorred in old Princes, and other noble and worshipfull men, which ought not onely to thinke it their duty to speake truth, but also to punish the enemies thereof, For otherwise the noble and valiant Knights should not lose a litle of their authority, if a man saw on their heads but white haires, and in their mouthes found nothing but lyes.
CHAP. XIX. Of a letter of the Emperour Marcus Aurelius, to Claudius and Claudinus, reproouing them being olde men, and that they liued youthfully.
MARKE Emperor, borne in Mount Celio, A Letter of the Emperour, reprouing light behauiour in old men. desireth to you my neighbours, Claude and Claudine health of your persons, and amendment of your liues, I beeing as I am, at the Conquest of Asia, and you remayning alwayes in the pleasures of Rome, wee vnderstand your newes very late, and I thinke our letters arriue there as late. Notwithstanding, to those which goe thither, I giue answeres for you others, and of all those which come hither, I demaund of your health. And doe not demand of others how well and how much I loue you, but of your owne proper hearts: and if your heart say, that I am a fained friend, then I take my selfe condemned. If perchance your harts doe tell you that I loue you, beeing true indeed that I hate you, or if I tel you that I hate you, being true that I loue you: of truth I would plucke such a heart out of my body, and giue it to bee eaten of the beasts. For there is no greater deceit, then that which the man doth to himselfe.
If a stranger beguile mee, I ought to dissemble it, if an enemie deceiue mee, I ought to reuenge it, if my friend misuse mee, I ought to complaine of him: but if I deceyue my selfe, with whom shall I comfort my selfe? For there is no patience that can suffer the heart to deceiue himselfe in any thing, which hee hath not [Page 424] deepaly considered. Peraduenture, yee will say, I doe not esteeme you, and that I haue not written any letter vnto you of long time, To this I answere.
That you doe not attribute the fault to my negligence, but to the great distance of countries that there is from hence to Rome: and also to the great affaires of Asia: For amongst other discommodities, the warre hath this also, that it depriueth A discommodity that war bringeth. vs of the sweet conuersation of our Country.
I haue alwayes presumed to bee yours, and at this present am at no mans pleasure, more then at yours: And since you haue alwayes knowne of mee, what you desired to know, I haue espyed in you others that, which of force I must speake. For in the end I haue not seene any possesse so much, to bee worth so much, to know so much, nor in all things to bee so mighty, but that one day hee should neede his poore friend.
The diuine Plato sayde, and also well, That the man which loueth with his heart, neyther in absence forgetteth, neyther in presence becommeth negligent, neyther in prosperity hee is proud, nor yet in aduersitie abiect, neyther he serueth for profit, nor yet hee loueth for gaine: and finally, he defendeth the case of his friend as his owne.
Diuers haue beene of the opinions which the Auncients held to affirme, For foure causes Friends are to be esteemed. for what end friendes were taken, and in the end they were fully resolued, that for foure causes we ought to chuse friends.
The first, we ought to haue friends to treate, and to bee conuersant with all: for according to the troubles of this life, there is no time so pleasantly consumed, as in the conuersation of an assured friend.
The second is, wee ought to haue friends, to haue friends, to whom we may disclose the secrets of our hearts: for it is much comfort to the wofull hart, to declare to his friend his doubts, if he perceiue that hee doth feele them in deede.
The third, we ought to search & chuse friends, to the end they helpe vs in our aduersities: For little profiteth it my heart, that with teares the friends doe heare all that I bewayle, vnlesse afterwards in deede hee will take paines to reforme the same.
The fourth, wee ought to seeke and preserue friends to the end they be protectors of our goods, and likewise Iudges of our euils: for the good friend is no lesse bound to withdraw vs from the vices whereby wee are slaundered, then to deliuer vs from our enemies, by whom wee may bee slaine.
The end why I tolde you all this was, if that in this letter you chance to light vpon any sharpe word, that you take it patiently, considering that the loue that I beare you, doth moue mee to speake, and the faith which I owe vnto you, dooth not suffer mee that I should keepe it close. For many things ought to be borne among friends, though they tell them in earnest, which ought not to be suffered of others, though they speake it in iest. I come therefore to shew the matter, and I beseech the immortall Gods, that there be no more then that you haue tolde mee, and that it bee lesse then I suspect.
Gaius Furius your Kinsman, and my especiall friend, as hee went to the Realme of Palestine, and Hierusalem, came to see mee in Antioch, and hath tolde me newes of Italy & Rome; and among others, one aboue all the residue I haue committed to memory, at the which I could not refrain laughing, and lesse to bee troubled after I had thought of it. O how many things doe wee talke in iest, the [Page 429] which after wee haue well considered, giue occasion to be sorrie.
The Emperor Adrian my good lord had a Ieaster, whose name was Belphus yong, comely and stout, albeit he was very malicious, as such are acustomed to be: and whiles the Embassadors of Germanie supped with the Emperour in great ioye: the same Belphus began to jeast of euery one that was present, according to his accustomed manner with a certaine malicious grace. And Adrian perceyuing that some chaunged colour, others murmured, and others were angrie: hee saide vnto this ieaster: Friend Belphus, if thou loue me and my seruice, vse not these spitefull The speech of the Emperour Adrian to his ieaster. ieasts at our supper, which being considered on, may turne vs to euill rest in our beddes.
Gaius Furius hath told me so manie slaunders chaunced in Italie, such nouelties done in Rome, such alteration of our Senate, such contentions and strife betweene our Neighbours, such lightnes of you two, that I was astonnied to heare it, and ashamed to write it. And it is nothing to tell after what sort he tolde them vnto me, vnles you had seen how earnestly he spake them: imagining that as he tolde them without taking any paines, so did I receiue them (as hee thought) without anie griefe: though in deede euery worde that hee spake, seemed a sharpe piercing arrowe vnto my heart For ofte times some telleth vs things, as of small importance, the which do pricke our hearts to the quicke.
By the opinion of all, I vnderstand that you are very olde, and yet in your own fantasies, you seeme very young. And further they say, that you Apparrell your selues a newe now, as though presently you came into the worlde: and moreouer they say, that you are offended with nothing so much, as when they call you olde, and that in Theaters where comedies are played: and in the Fieldes, where the brute beasts doe run, you are not the hindmost, and that there is no sporte, nor lightnes inuented in Rome, but first it is registred in your house. And finally, they say, that you giue your selues so vnto pleasures, as though you neuer thought to receyue displeasures.
O Claude and Claudine, by the God Iupiter I sweare vnto you, that I am ashamed of your vnshamefastnes, and am greatly abashed of your manners: and aboue all, I am exceedingly grieued for your offence. For at that time that you ought to lift your hands, you are returned againe into the filth of the world. Manie things men commit, which though they seeme graue, yet by moderation of the person that cōmitteth them, they are made light: but speaking according to the truth, I finde one reason, whereby I might excuse your lightes: but to the contrarie, I see tenne whereby I may condemne your follies.
Solon the Phylosopher in his Lawes said to the Athenians, that if the young offended, hee should be gently admonished, The difference of Solon and Lycurgus in opinion. and grieuously punished, because he was strong: and if the olde erre, hee should bee lightly punished, and sharply admonished, sith hee was weake and feeble.
To this Lycurgus in his lawes, to the Lacedemonians, sayd contrarie: That if the young did offend, hee should be lightly punished, and grieuously admonished, since through ignorance he did erre: and the olde man which did euill, should bee lightly admonished, and sharply punished, since thorough malice hee did offend.
These two phylosophers beeing (as they haue bin) of such authority in the worlde that is past, and considering that their lawes and sentences were of such weight, it should bee much rashnes in not admitting the one of them.
Now not receiuing the one, nor rereprouing [Page 430] the other: Mee thinketh that there is no great excuse to the young for their ignorance, and great condemnation to the aged for their experience.
Once againe I returne to say that you pardon me, my friends, and you ought not greatly to weigh it, thogh I am somewhat sharpe in condemnation, since you others are so dissolute in your liues: for of your blacke life my penne doth take inke.
I remember wel that I haue heard of thee Claude, that thou hast beene lusty and couragious in thy youth: so that thy strength of all was enuyed, and the beauty of Claudine of all men was desired.
I will not write vnto you in this letter, my friends and neighbours, nether reduce to memory, how thou Claude hast employed thy forces in the seruice of the comonwealth: and thou Claudine hast won much honor of thy beauty: for sundry times it chā ced, that men of many goodly giftes are noted of grieuous offences. Those which striued with thee are all dead, those whom thou desirest are deade, those which serued thee Claudine are dead, those which before thee Claudine sighed, are dead: those which for thee dyed, are now dead: and since all those are deade with theyr lightnesse, doe not you others thinke to die, and your follies also? I doe demand now of thy youth one thing, and of thy beauty another thing, what do you receiue of these pastims of these good entertainements, of these aboundances, of these great contentations, of the pleasures of the world, of the vanitie that is past, and what hope you of all these to carry into the narrow graue?
O simple, simple, and ignoraunt persons, how our life consumeth, and wee perceiue not how wee liue therein. For it is no felicitie to enioy a short or long life: but to know to employ the same eyther well or euill,
O children of the earth, and Disciples of vanitie, now you know that Time flyeth, without mouing his wings, the life goeth without lifting vp his feete, the World dispatcheth vs not telling vs the cause, men doe beguile vs not mouing their lippes, our flesh consumeth to vs vnawares: the heart dyeth, hauing no remedie: and finally our glorie decaieth, as it it had neuer beene, and death oppresseth vs without knocking at the dore.
Though a man be neuer so simple, or so very a foole, yet hee cannot deny, but it is impossible for to make a fire in the bottome of the sea, to make a way in the ayre, of the thinne bloud to make rough sinewes, and of the soft veines to make hard bones. I meane that it is vnpossible, that the greene flower of youth, be not one day withered by age.
CHAP. XX. The Emperour followeth his Letter and perswadeth Claudius and Claudinus being now olde, to giue no more credite to the World, nor to any of his deceitfull flatteryes.
THat which I haue The continuation of the Emperours letter to his friends. spoken now, tendeth more to aduertise the young, then to teach the olde: For you others haue now passed the prime time of childhood, the summer of youth, and the haruest of adolescency, and are in the winter of age, where it seemeth an vncomely [Page 431] thing, that those your hoary haires should bee accompanied with such vaine follies. Sithens young men know not that they haue to end their youth, it is no maruell, that they follow the world: but the olde men, which see themselues fall into this guile, why will they runne after vices againe?
O world, for that thou art the world, so smal is our force, & so great our debilitie, that thou willing it, and we not resisting it, thou dost swallow vs vp in the most perillous gulfe, and in the thornes most sharpe thou dost pricke vs: by the priuiest wayes thou leadest vs, & by the most stony waies thou carriest vs. I meane, that thou bringest vs to the highest fauours, to the end that afterwards with a push of thy pike thou mightest ouerthrow vs. O world, wherein all is worldly, two and fifty yeeares haue passed since in thee I was first borne, during The vanity of the world and the vncertainety thereof. which time thou neuer toldest mee one truth: but I haue taken thee with ten thousand lyes. I neuer demanded the thing but thou diddest promise it me, and yet it is nothing at all that euer thou diddest perform. I neuer put my trust in thee, but euer thou beguiledst me, I neuer came to thee, but thou diddest vndoo me: finally, neuer saw I ought in thee wherby thou deseruest loue, but alwayes hatred.
This presupposed, I know not what is in thee. O world, or what we worldlings want: for if thou hatest vs we cannot hate thee, if thou doest vs iniury, we can dissemble it, if thou spurne vs with thy feet, wee wil suffer it, if thou beatest vs with a staffe, wee wil hold our peace, also though thou persecutest vs, we will not complain, though thou take ours, wee will not demand it of thee, though thou dost beguile vs, we will not call ourselues beguiled, and the worst of all is, that thou doest chase vs from thy house, yet we will not depart from thence. I know not what this meaneth, I know not from whence this commeth: I know not who ought to prayse this same, that wee couet to follow the world, which wil none of vs, and hate the gods which loue vs: oft times I make account of my yeares past, somtimes also I turne and tosse my booke to see what I haue read, and another time I desire my friends to giue mee good counsell: and for no other end I doe it, then to attaine to that I haue spoken, and to know that I will say. I reading Rethorike in Rhodes, Adrian my lord maintaining me there, knowing that I was two and thirty years of age, it hapned in the Spring time I found my selfe solitarily, and soluarinesse with liberty smelled the world, and smelling it, I knew it, and knowit, I followed it, and following it, I attained it, & attayning vnto it, therunto I ioyned my selfe, and ioyning my selfe therewith, I proued it, and in prouing it, I tasted it, and in tasting it, mee thought it bitter, and in finding it bitter I hated it, and hating it I left it, and leauing it, is returned, and being returned, I receyued it againe.
Finally, the world inuiting mee, and I not resisting it, two and fiftie yeares wee did eate our bread together, and in one house wee haue alwayes remayned, wilt thou know after what sort the world and I doe liue in one house together, or better for to say, in one heart remayne? Harken then, and in one word I will tell it thee.
When I saw the world braue, I serued him, when hee saw me sad, hee flattered mee, when I saw him wealthy, I asked him, when hee saw mee merry, hee begulled mee, when I desired any thing, hee holpe me to attaine to it, and afterwards when [Page 432] the same I best enioyed, then hee tooke it from me, when hee saw me not pleased, he visited me, when hee saw mee, he forgot me, when he saw mee ouerthrowne, hee gaue mee his hand to releeue mee, when he saw me exalted, hee tripped me againe to ouerthrow me.
Finally, when I thinke that I haue somewhat in the world, I finde that all that I haue is a burthen.
If this which I haue spoken of the world bee any thing, more is that a great deale which yet of my selfe I will say, which is, that without doubt my folly is greater then his malice, since I am beguiled so oft, and yet alwayes I follow the deceyuer.
O world, world, thou hast such moods and fashions in thy proceeding, that thou leadest vs all to perdition. Of one thing I maruell much, whereof I cannot bee satisfied. Which is, since that we may go vpon the bridge, and yet without any gaine wee doe wade through the water, and where as the shallow is sure, wee seeke to runne into the gulfe, and where the way is drie, wee goe into the plash, where wee may eate wholesome meates to nourish the life, wee receyue poyson to hasten death, we seeke to destroy our selues, whereas wee may bee without danger.
Finally I say, without profite wee commit a fault, though wee see with How warie euery man ought to be our eyes the paine to follow. Wise men ought circumspectly to see what they do, to examine that they speake, to proue that they take in hand, for to beware whose company they vse and aboue all, to know whom they trust: For our iudgement is so corrupt, that to beguile vs, one is inough, and to make vs not to bee deceyued, tenne thousand would not suffice. They haue so great care of vs, I doe meane the world to be guile vs, and the flesh to flatter vs, that the high way being as it is narrow, the pathway daungerous, and full of prickes, the iourney is long, and the life short: our bodies are neuer but loden with vices, and our hearts are full of sorrows and cares.
I haue wondered at diuers things in this World, but that which astonieth mee most is, that those which be good, we make them beleeue they are euill, and those which are euill, wee perswade others to beleeue that they are good. So that wee shoote at the white of vertues, and hit the butte of vices.
I will confesse one thing, the which beeing disclosed, I know that infamy will follow mee, but peraduenture some vertuous man will maruell at it, that is, that in those two and fifty yeeres of my life, I haue proued al the vices of this world, for no other entent but for to proue if there bee any thing where in mans malice might be satisfied.
And afterwards all well considered, all examined, and all proued, I finde, that the more I eate, the more I dye for hunger, the more I drinke, the greater thirst I haue, the more I rest, the more I am broken, the more I sleepe, the more drousier I am: the more I haue, the more I couet: the more I desire, the more I am tormented, the more I procure, the lesse I attaine.
Finally, I neuer had so greate paine through want, but afterwards I had more trouble with excesse: it is No man euer contented with his estate in this world, a great folly to thinke, that as long as a man liueth in this flesh, that he can satisfie the flesh: for at the last cast, shee may take from vs our life; but wee others cannot take from her, her disordinate couetousnesse: if men did speake with the Gods, or that the Gods were conuersant with men, the first thing that I would aske them, should bee, why they haue appointed [Page 433] an end to our wofull dayes: and will not giue vs an end of our wicked desires? O cruell Gods, what is it you doe? or what doe you suffer vs? it is certaine, that wee shall not passe one good day of life onely, but in tasting this, and that life consumeth. O intollerable life of man, wherein there are such malices, from the which wee ought to beware, and such perils to fall in, and also so many things to consider, that then both shee and wee doe ende to know our selues, when the houre of death approcheth.
Let those know that know not, that the World taketh our will, and wee others like ignorants cannot deny it him, and afterwardes hauing power of our will, doth constraine vs to that which wee would not: so that many times wee would doe vertuous workes, and for that wee are now put into the Worlds hands, wee dare not do it.
The World vseth another subtilty with vs, and to the end we should not striue with it, it prayseth the Euery man ought to flye the vain intisements of the world. times past, because wee should liue according to the time present.
And the World sayeth further, that if wee others employ our forces in his vices, he giueth vs licence, that wee haue a good desire of vertue. O would to God in my dayes I might see, that the care which the Worlde hath to preserue vs, the Worldlings would take it to withdraw them from his vices. I sweare that the Gods should then haue more seruants, and the World and the flesh should not haue so many slaues.
CHAP. XXI. The Emperour proceedeth in his Letter, and proueth by good reasons, that sith the aged persons will bee serued and honoured of the young, they ought to be more vertuous and honest then the young.
I Haue spoken all this before rehearsed, for occasion of you Claude and Claudine The prosecution of the Emperours letter teaching old men to be vertuous the which at 60 and 10 yeeres will not keepe out the prison of the world: You, I say, which haue your bodies weake and corrupted, what hope shall wee haue of young men which are but 25. yeeres of age (if my memorie deceiue mee not, when I was there, you had Nephewes married, and of their children made sure, and two of the children borne: and since that is true, mee thinketh when the fruite is gathered, the fruit is of no value, and after the meale is taken from the mill, euil shal the mill grinde.
I meane that the olde man ought to desire that his daies might be shortened in this world. Do not thinke my friends, that a man can haue his house full of Nephewes, and yet say, that he is very yong? for in loding the tree with fruites, the blossoms immediately fall, or else they become withered. I haue imagined with my selfe, what it is that you might doe to see me yong, and cut of some of your yeares: and in the end I know no other reason, but when you married Alamberta your daughter with Drusius, and your Neece Sophia the faire, with Tuscidan, which were so yong, that the daughters were scarce 15. [Page 434] veares old, nor the young men 20. I suppose, because you were rich of yeares, and poore of money, that he gaue to euery one of them in stead of money for dowry ten yeares of yours: hereof a man may gather, that the money of your Nephewes haue remayned vnto you, and you haue giuen vnto them of your owne yeares. I vnderstand my friends, that your desire is to bee yong, and very yong: but I greatly desire to see you old and very old I doe not meane in yeares, which in you doth surmount, but in discretion, which in you doth want.
O Claude and Claudine, note that which I wil say vnto you, and beare it alwayes in your memory.
I let you know, that to maintaine youth, to deface age, to liue contented, to be free from trauels, to lengthen life, and to auoyde death: These things are not in the hands of men, which doe desire them, but rather in the hands of those which giueth thē: the which according to their iustice, and not according to our couetousnesse, doe giue vs life by weight, and death without measure.
One thing the old men do, which is cause of slaundering many, that is, that they will speake first in counsels, they will bee serued of the young in feasts, they will bee first placed, in all that they say they will be beleeued, in Churches they will bee higher then the residue, in distributing of offices they will haue the most honour, in their opinions they will not be gainesayde. Finally, they, will haue the credite of old sage men, and yet they will leade the life of young doting fooles. All these preheminences and priuiledges, it is very iust that olde men What is required in euery olde man. should haue spent their yeares in the seruice of the common-wealth: but with this I do aduise & require them, that the authoritie giuen them with their white haires, bee not diminished by their euill works.
Is it a iust thing that the humble & honest yong mā do reuerence to the aged man, proud and disdainefull? Is it a iust thing that the gentle and gracious yong man do reuerence to the enuious and malitious old man? is it a iust thing that the vertuous and patient young man do reuerence to the foolish and vnpatient old man? is it a iust thing, that the stout and liberal yong man doe reuerence to the miserable & couetous old man? is it iust that the diligent and carefull young man do reuerence to the negligent old man? is it iust that the abstinent and sober yong man do reuerence to What duty is required of the yong man to the olde. the greedy and gluttonous old man? is it iust that the chast and continent yong man do reuerence to the lecherous and dissolute olde man? Mee thinketh these things should not bee such, that thereby the old man shold be honored, but rather reproued and punished. For old men offend more, by the euill example they giue, then by the fault which they cōmit. Thou canst not deny me, my friend Claude, that it is 33. years since we both were at the Theaters to behold a play whē thou camest late, and found no place for thee to sit in, thou saydest vnto mee who was set, Rise my sonne Mark, and sithens now thou art yong, it is but iust that thou giue mee place which am aged.
If it bee true, that it is three and thirty yeares sithence thou askedst place in the Theaters as an olde man: Tell me, I pray thee, and also I coniure thee, with what oyntment hast thou annoynted thy selfe, or with what water hast thou washed thy selfe to become young. O Claude, if thou hadst found any medicine, or discouered any herbe, wherwith thou couldest take white haires from mens heades, and from women the wrinccles of their face: I sweare vnto thee, [Page 435] and also I doe assure thee, that thou shouldest be more visited and serued in Rome, then the God Apollo is in his Temple at Ephesus. Thou shouldest well remember Annius Priscus, the old man, which was our Neighbour, and somewhat a kinne to thee: the which, when I tolde him that I could not be filled with his good words, and to behold his auncient white haires, he said vnto me.
Oh my Sonne Marke, it appeareth well that thou hast not bin aged, because thou talkest as a young man: For if white haires do honour the person, they greatly hurt the hart. For at that houre when they see vs aged, the strangers doe hate vs, and ours do not loue vs. And he told me more: I let thee know my sonne Marke, that many times my wife and I, talking of the yeares of another particularly, when shee beholdeth mee, and that I seeme vnto her so aged: I say vnto her, and sweare that I am yet young, and that these white hayres came vnto mee by great trauells, and the age by sicknes.
I doe remember also, that this Annius Priscus was Senatour one yeare: and because he would not seem aged, but desired that men shold iudge him to be young, he shaued his beard and his head, which was not accustomed among the Senatours nor Censors of Rome: And on a day among the other Senators, he entred into the high Capitoll, one saide vnto him thus. A Question demaunded of a [...] Senatour of Rome.
Tell me man, from whence comest thou? What wilt thou? and why commest thou hither? How durst thou being no Senatour, enter into the Senate? Hee answered, I am Annius Priscus the aged: How chaunceth it now you haue not knowne me? They replyed vnto him: if thou wert Annius Priscus, thou wouldest not come hither thus shauen.
For, in the sacred Senate can none enter to gouerne the commonwealth, vnlesse his person be endued with vertues, and his head with white hayres: and therefore thou art banished, and depriued of thy Office. For the olde, which liue as the young ought to bee punished.
Thou knowest well Claude and Claudine, that that which I haue spoken, is not the faynings of Homer, neyther a Fable of Ouide: but that you your selues saw it with your eyes, and in his banishment I did helpe him with money: and moreouer he was banished another time for the lightnes hee did commit in the night in the Citie: and I maruell not hereof; For we see by experience, that Olde men which are fleshed in vices, are more obstinate to correct then the young.
Oh what euill fortune haue the old men, which haue suffered themselues to waxe olde in vice? For, more dangerous is the fire in an old house then in a newe: and a great cut of a sword is not so perillous, as a rotten Fistula.
Though olde men were not honest and vertuous, for the seruice of the Gods and the commonwealth, for the saying of the people, nor for the example of the young: yet he ought to bee honest, if it were but for the reuerence of their yeares.
If the poore old man haue no teeth, how shall he eate? If he haue no heate in his stomacke, how can he disgest? If hee haue no taste, how can he drinke? if he be not strong, how can hee be an adulterer? if he haue no feet, how can he goe? if he haue the palsey, how can he speake: if he haue the gowte in his hands, how can he play? Finally, such like worldly & vicious men, haue employed their forces being young, desirous to proue al these vices: and when they are old it grieueth thē extreamly that they cānot acomplish their desire
Amongst all these faultes in olde men (in myne opinion,) this is the chiefest, that since they haue proued [Page 436] all things, that they should still remaine in theyr obstinate follie. There is no parte but they haue trauelled, no villanie but they haue essayed, no Fortune but they haue proued, no good but they haue persecuted, no euill but hath chanced vnto them, nor there is any wickednes, but they haue attēpted
These vnhappie men which in this Olde mē by experience know and feele many daungers. sort haue spent all their youth, haue in the ende theyr combes cut, with infirmities and diseases: yet they are not so much grieued with the vices (which in them doe abound) to hinder them from vertues, as they are tormented for want of corporall courage, to further them in their lustes.
Oh if wee were Gods, or that they would giue vs licence to knowe the thoughtes of the olde, as wee see with our eyes, the deedes of the young.
I sweare to the God Mars, and also to the Mother Berecynthia, that without comparison, wee would punish more the wicked desires which the aged haue to be wicked: then the light deedes of the young.
Tell mee Claude and Claudine, doe you thinke though you behaue your selues as young, you shall not seme to be olde? Knowe you not that our nature is the corruption of our bodie: and that our bodie hindereth our vnderstandings, and that the vnderstandings are kept of our soule, and that our soule is the mother of desires and that our desires are the scourge of our youth, and that our youth is the ensigne of our age, and age the spye of death, and that death in the end is the house where life taketh his harbor: & from whēce youth flyeth a foot, & frō whence age cānot escape a horseback?
I would reioyce that you Claude and Claudine, would but tell mee what you finde in this life, that so much therwith you should be contented: since no we you haue passed foure-score yeares of life, during the which time, either you haue bin wicked in the worlde, or else you haue bin good. If you haue bin good, you ought to thinke it long vntill you bee with the good Gods: if you haue bin euill, it is iust you dye, to the ende you be no worse.
For speaking the truth, those which in threescore and ten yeares haue bin wicked in workes, leaue small hope of their amendment of life.
Adrian my Lord, beeing at Nola in Campania, one brought vnto him a nephew of his from the studie, whereas the yong childe had not profited a little: for hee became a great Grecian, and Latinist: and moreouer, hee was faire gratious, and honest.
And this Emperour Adrian loued his Nephew so much, that he saide vnto him these wordes: My Nephewe, I knowe not whether I ought to say vnto A speech of the Emperor Adrian. thee that thou art good, or euill: For, if thou be euill, life shall be euill employed on thee, and if thou be good, thou oughtest to dye immediately: and because I am worse then all, I liue longer then all.
These words which Adrian my Lord said, doe plainly declare and expresse, that in short space the pale and cruell death doth assault the good, and lengtheneth life a great while to the euill.
The opinion of a phylosopher was, that the gods are so profound in their secrets, high in their mysteries, and so iust in their works, that to men which least profite the commonwealth, they lengthen life longest: and though he had not saide it, we others see it by experience. For the man which is good, and that beareth great zeale & friendship to the Commonwealth: eyther the Gods take him from vs, or the Enemyes doe slay him, or the daungers doe cast him away, or the trauells doe finish him. When the great Pompeyus and Iulius Caesar became enemyes, and from that enmitie came to cruell warres, the Gronicles of the time declare, that the kings and people of the [Page 437] occidental part became in he fauour of Iulius Caesar, and the mightiest, and most puissant of al the oriental parts, came in the ayde of great Pompeius, because these two Princes were loued of a few, and serued and feared of all:
Amongst the diuersity and sundry nations of people which came out of the Orientall part, into the hoast of the great Pompeius, one nation came maruellous, and cruell barbarous, which sayde, they dwelled on the other side of the mountaine Riphees, which goe vnto India.
And these Barbarians had a Custome, not to liue no longer then fifty yeares: and therefore when they came to that age, they made a greater A custome among the Barbarians. fire, and were burned therin aliue; and of their owne wils they sacrificed themselues to the Gods. Let no man be astonied at that we haue spoken, but rather let them maruell of that wee will speake (that is to say) that the same day any man had accō plished fifty yeares, immediately hee cast himselfe quicke into the fire, and his friends made a great feast. And the feast was, that they did eate the flesh of the dead halfe burned, and dranke in wine and water the ashes of his bones: so that the stomacke of the childrē being aliue, was the graue of the Fathers being dead.
All this that I haue spoken with my tongue, Pompeius hath seene with his eyes, for that some being in the camp did accomplish fifty yeares; and because the case was strange, hee declared it oft in the Senate.
Let euery man iudge in this case, what he will, and condemne the barbarians at his pleasure, yet I will not cease to say what I thinke. O golden world, which had such men. O blessed people, of whom in the World to ome shall be a perpetuall memorie, What contempt of world? what forgetfulnesse of himselfe? what stroke of fortune? what whippe for the flesh? what little regard of life? O what bridle for the vertuous? O what confusion for those that loue life. O how great example haue they left vs, not to feare death. Sithens those here haue willingly despised their owne liues, it is not to be thought that they dyed to take the goods of others, neither yet to thinke that our life should neuer haue end, nor our couetousnesse in like manner.
O glorious people, and ten thousand fold happy, that the proper sensuality being forsaken, haue ouercom the naturall appetite to desire to liue, not beleeuing in that they saw, and that hauing faith in that they neuer saw, they striued with the fatall Destenies. By the way they assaulted fortune, they changed life for death, they offered the body to death, and aboue all, haue wonne honour with the Gods, not for that they shoulde hasten death, but because they should take away that which is superfluous of life. Archagent a Surgeon of Rome, and Anthonius Musus, a Physition of the Emperour Augustus, and Esculapius, father of the Phisicke, should get little money in that Countrie. Hee that then should haue sent to the barbarous to haue done as the Romanes at that time did, that is to say, to take sirrops in the mornings, pils at night, to drinke milke in the morning, to annoint themselues with grome [...]seed to bee let bloud to day, and purged to morrow, to eate of one thing, and to abstaine from many, a man ought to thinke, that hee which willingly, seeketh death, will not giue money to lengthen life.
CHAP. XXII. The Emperour concludeth his letter, and shewed what perils those olde men liue in, which dissolutely like young children passe their dayes, and giueth vnto them wholesome counsell for the remedy thereof.
BVt returning to thee Claude and to thee Claudine, me thinketh The conclusion of the Emperours letter, reprouing old men which liue dissolutely, like young children. that these barbarous men beeing fifty yeares of age, and you others hauing aboue threescore and tenne, it should be iust, that sithence you were elder in yeares, you were equall in vertue, and though (as they) you wil not accept death patiently, yet at the least you ought to amend your euill liues willingly.
I doe remember, that it is many yeares sithens, that Fabritius the young, sonne of Fabritius the olde, had ordayned to haue deceiued mee: of the which, if you had not told me great inconueniences had happned: and sithens that you did me so great a benefite, I would now requite you the same with another the like. For amongst friends there is no equal benefite, then to deceiue the deceyuer: I let you know, if you do not know it, that you are poore aged folks, your eyes are sunke into your heads, the nostrels are shut, the haires are white, the hearing is lost, the tongue faultereth, the teeth fall, the face is wrinkled, the feete swolne, and the stomacke cold. Finally I say, that if the graue could speake, as vnto his Subiects, by iustice he might commaund you to inhabite his house.
It is great pitty of the yong men and of their youthfull ignorance; for then vnto such their eies are not opened, to know the mishaps of this miserable life, when cruell death doth end their dayes, and adiorneth them to the graue.
Plato in his booke of the Common wealth sayde, that in vaine wee giue good counsels, to fond and light young men: for youth is without experience of that it knoweth, suspitious of that it heareth, incredible of that is tolde him, despising the counsell of an other, and very poore of his own. For so much as this is true that I tell you Claude, and Claudine, that without comparison, the ignorance which the young haue of the good, is not so much: but the obstination which the olde hath in the euill is more: For the mortall Gods many times doe dissemble with a thousand offences commited by ignorance, but they neuer forgiue the offence perpetrated by malice.
O Claude, and Claudine, I doe not maruell that you doe forget the gods, (as you doe) which created you, and your Fathers, which begot you, and your parents which haue loued you, and your friends which haue honoured you: but that which I most maruell at is, that you forget your selues: For you neuer consider what you ought to bee, vntill such time as you bee there where you would not bee, and that without power to returne backe againe.
Awake, awake, since you are drowned in your dreames, open your eyes since you sleepe so much, accustome your selues to trauels, sithence you are vagabonds, learne that which behoueth you, since now you are olde. I meane, that in time conuenient you agree with death, before he make execution of life.
Fifty two yeeres haue I knowne [Page 439] the things of the world, and yet I neuer saw a Woman so aged thorough yeares, nor old man with members so feeble, that for want of strength could not (if they list) doe good: nor yet for the same occasion should leaue to bee euill, if they list to be euill.
It is a maruellous thing to see, and worthy to note, that all the corporall members of Man waxeth old, but the inward hart, and the outward tongue: For the heart is alwayes giuen to inuent All the mē bers of man waxe feeble in time, but onely the heart and tongue. euills, and the tongue is alwayes able to tell Lyes.
Mine opinion is, that the pleasaunt Summer beeing past, you should prepare your selues for the vntemperate winter which is at hand. And if you haue but fewe dayes to continue, you should make hast to take vp your lodging. I meane that sith you haue passed the dayes of your life with trauell, you should prepare your selues against the night of death, to be in the hauen of rest.
Let mockeryes passe as mockeries, and accept trueth as truth: that is to say, that it were a very iust thing, and also for your honour necessarie, that all shose which in times past haue seen you young and foolish, should now in your age, see you graue and sage. For there is nothing that so much forgetteth the lightnesse and follyes of youth, as doth grauity and constancie in Age.
When the Knight runneth his carriere, they blame him not for that the Horses mane is not finely combed: but at the end of his race he shold see his horse amended, and looked vnto: What greater confusion can be to any person, or greater slaunder to our mother Rome, then to see that which now a dayes therein we see? That is to say: that the old which can scarcely creepe through the streetes, to beholde the playes and games as young men, which search for nought else but onely pompe and vanitie?
It grieueth mee to speake it, but I am much more ashamed to see, that the olde Romaines do daylie cause the white haires to be plucked out of their heads, because they would not seeme old, to make their beard small, to seem yong, wearing their hosen very close, their shyrts open before: the gowne of the Senatour embrodered, the Romane signe richly enamelled, the coller of golde at the necke, as those of Dace: Fringes in their gownes, as those of Saphire, hoops in their hattes, as the Greekes, and pearls on their fingers, as those of India.
What wilt thou I tell thee more, then I haue tolde thee? but that they weare theyr Gownes long and large, as those of Tharento, and they weare The pride of the auncient Senatours of Rome. them of the colour as men of warre: and euery weeke they haue change, as players: and the worste of all is, that they shew themselues as doating with loue, now in their Age, as others haue done heretofore in their youth.
That old men are ouercome by yong desires, I doe not maruel, for that brutish Lust is as naturall, as the daylie foode: but the olde men (being olde men) should be so dissolute: herewith men iustly ought to be offended. For the olde men couetous, and of Flesh vicious, both offend the Gods, and slaunder the commonwealth.
Oh how many I haue knowne in Rome, who in their youth haue been highly praysed and esteemed, and after wardes through giuing themselues to very much lightnes in their age, haue bin of all abhorred. And the worst of all is, that they haue lost all theyr credite, their parents, their fauour, and their poore innocent Children theyr profit? For many times the Gods permit, that the Fathers committing the offences, the paines should fall vpon their owne children.
The renowmed Gaguino Cato, who [Page 440] discended from the hie linage of the sage Catoes, was fiue yeares Flamen priest, and administrator to the Vestall virgins, three yeers Pretor, two yeeres Censor, one yeere Dictator, & fiue times Consull, being 75. yeares olde, he gaue himself to follow, serue and to desire Rosana, and daughter of Gneus Cursius, a Lady of truth verie young and faire, and of many desired, and much made of: time afterwards passing away, and God Cupid doing his office, the loue was so kindled inwardly in the heart of this olde man, that hee ranne almost mad: So that after hee had consumed all his goods in seruing her dayly, he sighed, and nightly hee wept, onely for to see her.
It chaunced that the saide Rosana fell sicke of a burning ague, wherewith shee was so distempered, that shee could eate no meat, but greatlie desired to eates grapes: and sithens there were none ripe at Rome, Gaguino Cato sent to the riuer of Rheyn, to fetch some, being farre, and many miles distant from thence,
And when the thing was spredde through Rome, and that all the people knew it, and the Senate vnderstanding the folly of him: the Fathers A seuere sentence giuen by the Senators of Rome vpon an old man. commaunded that Rosana should be looked vp with the Vestall Virgins, & the olde man banished Rome for euer, to the end, that to them it should be a punishment, and to others an example.
Truely it grieued mee sore to see it, and also I had great paines in writing it: For I saw the Father dye in infamie, and his children liue in pouertie: I beleeue that all those which shall heare this example, and all those which shall reade this writing, shall finde the fact of this amorous olde man, both vile and filthy, and they will allow the sentence of the Senate which they gaue against him for good and iust.
I sweare, that if Gaguino Cato had had as manie young men in his banishment as he left olde men Louers that followed his example in Rome: there should not be cast away so many men, neyther so many women euill married.
It chanceth oft times, that when the olde men (specially being noble and valiant) are aduertised of their seruants, are rebuked of their parents, are prayed of their friends, and accused of their enemies to bee dishonest in such a place, they answere, That they are not in loue, but in iest.
When I was very young, no lesse in wisedome, then in age, one night in the Capitoll I met with a neighbour of mine, the which was so old, that hee might haue taken me for his nephew: to whom I sayde these words: Lord Fabritius, are you also in A question demaunded of an olde man and his answere. Loue? he answered me. You see that my age suffereth me not that I should be a louer, if I should bee, it is but in sport.
Truly I maruelled to meete him at that houre, and I was ashamed to haue such an answere. In olde men of great age and grauity such request cannot be called loue, but griefe, not pastime, but losse of time, not mocrie, but villanie: for of loue in iest, ensueth infamy indeed.
I aske you Claude and Claudine, what a thing is it, to see an olde man bee in loue? Truely it is no other, but as a garland before the Tauerne doores: where al men think that there is wine, and they sell nought else but vineger. They are egges white without, & rotten within, they are golden pilles, the tast wherof are very bitter, and as emptie boxes in shops, which haue newe writings on them, or as a new gate, and within in the house is full of filth and cobwebs.
Finally, the old Louer is a knight [Page 441] of Exchetes, which helpeth to lose money, and can deliuer no man from perill. Let this word be noted, and alwayes in your memory committed, That the olde man that is vitious, is but A good example, and worthie to be noted. as a Leeke which hath the head white, and the tale greene.
Mee thinketh that you ought to breake the wings of time, since that you haue feathers to flye withall: deceyue not your selfe, nor your friends and neighbours, saying, that there is time for all. For the amendment is in your hands, but time is in the hands of God to dispose.
Let vs come now to remedy this great dammage, doe what you can by the day of youth, and deferre it not vntill the night of age, for ill cutteth the knife, when the edge thereof is dulled: and ill can hee gnawe the bones which is accustomed to eate the flesh. I tell you, and aduertise you, that when the olde and rotten houses beginne to fall, vnderset not them with rotten wood, but with hard timber. I meane with the vpright thoughts of accounts, which we ought to giue the Gods of our life, and to men of our renowne.
For I say, that if the Vine bee gathered of our vertues, wee ought to graffe againe the amendment: and if the shreds of our gatherings be drye and withered through our peruerse workes, wee ought to set them againe with new mould and good desires.
The Gods are so gentle to serue, and so good to content, that if for all the seruices we owe them, and for the gifts which they giue vs, we cannot pay them in good works: they demaund no more in pauement but good wils.
Finally, I say, that if thou Claude and Claudine haue offered the meale of youth to the world, offer now the bloud of age to the Gods.
I haue written longer then I had thought to haue done. Salute all my neighbours, specially Drusio the Patrician, and noble Roman widow. I remember that Gobrine your neece did mee a pleasure, that day of the Feast of the mother Berecinthia, wherfore I send two thousand Sesterces, one thousand to helpe to marry her: and the other thousand to helpe for to releeue your pouerty.
My wife Faustine is sicke, and I send you another 1000. Sesterces to giue to the Vestall virgins, to pray to the Gods for her.
My wife sendeth to thee Claudine a Cofer: by the immortall Gods I sweare vnto thee, I cannot tell what is in it. I beseech the Gods sithence you are aged to giue you a good death, and to me and Faustine, they suffer vs to leade a good life. Marcus of mount Celio with his own hand writeth this.
CHAP. XXIII. Princes ought to take heede that they be not noted of auarice, for that the couetous man is both of God and man hated.
THe great Alexander King of Macedony, and Darius the vnfortunate What caused Alexander to be loued and honoured King of Persians, were not onely contrary in wars and conquests, which they made, but also in the conditions and inclinations which they had: For Alexander naturally loued to giue and spend: and Darius to the contrarie, to heape, locke and keepe. When the fame of Alexander was spredde abroade throughout all the [Page 442] word to bee a Prince of honour, and not couetous, his owne loued him intirely, & strangers desired to serue him faithfully.
The miserable King Darius, as he King Darius noted of couetousnes. was noted of great auarice, and of small liberality, so his did disobey him, and strangers hated him: whereof may be gathered that Princes and great Lords by giuing, do make them selues rich: and in keeping, they make themselues poore.
Plutarch in his Apothegmes declareth, that after King Darius was dead, and Alexander had triumphed ouer all the Orientall parts, a man of Thebes being in the market place of Athens, setting forth the fortune of Alexander for the sundry Countryes which hee had conquered, and describing the euill fortune of Darius, for the great number of men which hee had lost, a Philosopher with a loude voyce sayd, O man of Thebes, thou art greatly deceyued, to think that one prince loseth many seigniories, and that the other Prince winneth many Realmes. For Alexander the Great, wann nought but stones and couerings of Cities: for with his liberality hee had already gotten the good wils of the Citizens: and on the contrary, the vnfortunate Darius did not lose but stones, and the couertures of Cities, for with his couetousnesse and auarice hee had now lost all the hearts of those of Asia.
And further, this Philosopher sayde vnto him, that Princes which will enlarge their estates, and amplifie their realmes in their conquests, ought first to winne the hearts, and to bee noble and liberall; and afterwards to send their armies to conquer the Forts, and wals, for otherwise little auayleth it to winne the stones, if the hearts do rebell.
Whereby a man may gather, that that which Alexander wanne, he wanne by liberality and stoutenesse: and that which King Darius lost, he lost for being miserable and couetous.
And let vs not maruell hereat, for that Princes and great Lordes which are ouercome with auarice, I doubt whether euer they shall see themselus Conquerours of many realmes. The vice of auarice is so detestable, so euil, The vice of auarice so odious, that it cannot be sufficiently expressed. so odious, and so perillous, that if a man should employ himselfe for to write all the discommodities thereunto belonging, my penne shoulde do nought else, then to presume to drye vp all the water in the sea: For the stomacke where auarice entreth, causeth a man to serue vices, & worship Idols.
If a vertuous man would prepare himselfe to thinke on the great trauel, and little rest that this cursed vice beareth with him, I thinke that none would be vicious therein. Though the couetous man had no other trauell, but alwayes to goe to bed with daunger, and to rise vp with care: Mee thinketh that it is a trouble sufficient for such a one when he goeth to bed, thinketh that hee should bee killed in his bedde, or that sleeping his coffers should be rifled: and from that time he riseth, hee is alwayes tormented with feare to lose that which he hath wonne, and carefull to augment that little too much.
The diuine Plato in the first booke of his Common-wealth sayde these words. The men be made rich, because they neuer learned to bee rich: for he which continually, and truly will become rich, first ought to abhorre couetousnesse, before he begin to occupie himselfe to locke vppe goods. For the man which setteth no bond to his desire shall alwayes haue little though hee see himselfe Lord of the world.
The sentence of the Stoyckes doth satisfie my mind much, whereof [Page 343] Aristotle in his politikes, maketh mention, where he sayth: That vnto great affayres, are alwayes required great riches: and there is no extreame pouertie, but where there hath beene great aboundance, A worthie saying of Aristotle. &c. Thereof ensueth, that vnto Princes and great Lordes which haue much, they want much: because vnto men which haue had little, they can want but little.
If wee admonish worldlings not to be vicious, they will alwayes haue excuses to excuse themselues, declaring why they haue been vicious: the vice of Auarice excepted, to whome, and with whom they haue no excuse. For, if one vaine reason be ready to excuse, there are two thousand to condemne them. Let vs put example in all the principall vices, and wee shall see how this onely of Auarice remaineth condemned, and not excused?
If we reason why a noble Prince or great Lord is hautie and proude? He will aunswere that hee hath great occasion. For the naturall disposition of men is, rather to desire to commaund with trauell, then to serue with quyetnes and rest.
If we reproue any man that is furious, and giuen to anger: hee will aunswere vs, that we maruell not, since we maruell not of the proude: For that the enemy hath no more authority to trouble any man, then the other to take reuenge of him.
If we blame him for that he is fleshly and vicious: he will answer vs, that hee cannot abstaine from that sinne: For, if any man can eschew the actes, he fighteth continually with vncleane thoughts. If wee say that anie man is negligent, hee will answere vs, that he deserueth not to be blamed: For, the vilenes of our nature is such, that if we do trauell it, immediately it is wearie: and if we rest it, immediately it reioyceth. If wee rebuke any man that is a glutton, hee will answere vs, that without eating and drinking, wee cannot liue in the world: for the Diuine Word hath not forbidden man to eate with the mouth, but the vncleane thoughts which come from the heart.
As of these few vices we haue declared, so may wee excuse all the residue: but to the vice of couetousnesse, none can giue a reasonable excuse. For with money put into the coffer, the soule cannot profite, nor the bodie reioyce.
Boetius in his booke of consolation said, That Money is good, not when wee haue it in possession, but when wee want A true saying o [...] Boetius. it: And in very deede the sentence of Boetius is very profound: For, when man spendeth money, he attaineth to that he will, but hauing it with him, it profiteth him nothing.
Wee may say of these rich and couetous men, that if they heape and keepe, they say it is for deere and drye yeares, and to relieue theyr parents and friends. We may aunswer them, that they doe not heape vp to remedie the poore in like necessityes, but rather to bring the Common-wealth to greater pouerty. For then they sell all things deere, and put out their money to great vsurie: so that this couetous man doth more harme with that he doth lend them, then the drie: yeare doth, with that it hath taken frō them.
The noble and vertuous men ought not cease to doe well, for feare of dry yeares: For, in the ende if one deare yeare come, it maketh al deere: and at such a time, and in such a case, he onely may be called happie, which for being free and liberall in Almes, shall reioyce that his table should be costly?
Let all couetous men beware, that for keeping of much goods, they giue not to the diuell theyr soules: For, it may bee that before the deare yeare commeth to sel their Corne, their bodyes shalbe layd in the graue.
Oh what good doeth GOD to the Nobles, giuing them liberal harts: and [Page 444] what ill lucke haue couetous men (hauing as they haue) their harts so hard laced: For if couetous men did taste how sweet and necessarie a thing it is to giue, they could keepe little for themselues.
Now sithens the miserable and couetous men haue not the heart to giue to their friendes, to depart to their parents, to succour the poore, to lend to their neighbours, nor to sustaine the Orphanes, It is for to bee thought that they will spend it on themselues.
Truly I say no more, for there are men so miserable, and so hard of that they haue, that they thinke that as euill spent, which among themselues they spend: as that which one robbeth from them of their goods. How The description of a miserable and couetous man. will the couetous and miserable wretch giue a garment to a naked man, which dare not make himselfe a coate? How will hee giue to eate to the poore familiar, which as a poore slaue eateth the bread of branne, and selleth the flower of meale? How shal the Pilgrims lodge in his house, who for pure misery dare not enter? and how doth he visite the Hospitall, and releeue the sicke, that oft times hazardeth his owne health and life, for that hee will not giue one penny to the Physition? how shall hee succour secretly the poore and needy, which maketh his owne children goe barefoote and naked? how can hee helpe to marry the poore maides being orphanes, when he suffereth his owne daughters to waxe olde in his house? how will hee giue of his goods to the poore Captiues, which will not pay his owne men their wages? how will he giue to eate to the children of poore Gentlemen, which alwayes grudgeth at that his owne spend? how should wee beleeue that hee wil apparrell a widdow, which will not giue his owne wife a hoode? How doth hee daily giue almes, which goeth not to the Church on the Sunday, because hee will not offer one penny? how shall the couetous man reioyce the heart, sith for spending of one penny, oft times hee goeth supperlesse to bed? And finally, I say, that hee will neuer giue vs of his own proper goods, which weepeth alwayes for the goods of another.
CHAP. XXIIII. The Author followeth his matter, and with great reasons discommendeth the vices of couetous men.
ONe of the thinges Poverty far better, then riches with couetousnes wherein the diuine prouidence sheweth, that we do not vnderstand the maner of her gouernement, is to see that shee giueth vnderstanding to a man to know the riches, shee giueth him force to seeke them, subtilly to gather them, vertue to sustaine them, courage to defend them, and also long life to possesse them.
And with all this shee giueth him not licence to enioy them, but rather suffereth him, that as without reason hee hath made himselfe Lord of an other mans, of right hee should bee made slaue of his owne: thereby a man may know, of how greater excellency vertuous pouerty is, then the outragious couetousnesse: for so much as to the poore, God doth giue contentation of that little hee hath, & from the rich man he taketh contentation of the great deale hee possesseth,
So that to the couetous man wee see troubles encrease howerly, and [Page 445] the gaine commeth vnto him but monethly. Let vs compare the rich and couetous man to the poore potter, and wee shall see who shall profite most, eyther the potter with his pots that he maketh of the earth, or else the couetous with his money, which he hath in the earth. Though I make no answere to this, yet answer herein hath already been made, that the one is much better at ease with the earth, then the other is with the good: For the Potter getteth his liuing by selling pots, and the couetous man loseth his soule by keeping riches.
I humbly require the high Princes and also I beseech the great Lordes, and further I admonish the other nobles and Plebeians, alwayes to haue this word in memory. I say and affirme, that the more strongly the man keepeth, and locketh his treasure, The desire of couetous men neuer satisfied. the more strongly and priuily is he kept: for if hee put two keyes to keepe his treasure, he putteth seuen to his heart not to spend them. Let the noble and valiant men beware, that they giue not their mindes to heape vp treasures: for if once their hearts bee kindled with couetousnes, for feare of spending a halfe penny, they will dayly suffer themselues to fall into a thousand miseries. The Plebeians which are very rich may say, that they haue not heaped vp much treasures, sithence they cannot behold a hundred, or two hundred duccats. To this I answere, that the estates considered, ten duccates doe as much harme to a Treasurer, as to others ten thousand: For the fault consisteth not in keeping, or hiding (much or litle) riches: but forsomuch as in keeping them, we cease to doe many good workes. To mee it is a strange matter, that niggardlinesse hath a greater force to the couetous, then conscience hath in others: For there are many, which notwithstanding conscience, do profite with the goods of others, and the couetous hauing more misery then conscience, cannot yet profite with their owne: With much care and lesse diligence the couetous men doe prouide that the millers do not rob the meale, that their beasts make no wasts, that the Hunters run not through the corne, that their wine perish not, that those which owe them any thing, doe not go and make themselues bankroutes, that wynets do not eate their corne, and the theeues rob not their goods: but in the end they watch none so well as themselues: for all the others, (earely or late) haue alwayes oportunitie to robbe from them somewhat: but the couetous hath neuer the heart to change a duccate.
Men ought to take great pitty of a couetous man, who by his own will The description of a couetous man. and not of necessity, weareth his gowne all to torne, his shooes out, his points without agglets, an euill fauouted girdle, his coate rent, his hat olde, his hose seame rent, his cap greasie, and his shirt lousie. Finally, I say, that diuers of these misers faine that they haue a great summe to pay, and it is for no other thing, but for not wearing a good garment. What can the couetous doe more, then for keeping a penny in his purse, hee will go two moneths, and not trimme his beard? Sithence it is true that these pinch-penies doe behaue their persons so euill, do ye thinke they haue their houses any thing the better furnished? I say no, but you shal see their chambers full of cobwebs, the dores out of the hinges, the windowes riuen, the glasses broken, the planches loose, the couertures of the house without gutters, the stooles broken, the beds worme-eaten, and chimnies ready to fall: so that to harbour a friend or kinsmen of theirs, they are [Page 446] constrayned to Lodge him in theyr neighbours house, or else to sende to borrow all that they want. And passing ouer the garments they weare, & the housen wherein they dwell, let vs see what Tables they keepe: For of their Gardens they eate no fruite, but that that falleth off the tree, of theyr vines but rotten grapes, of their sheep the sickest, of their Corne the wettest, of wine, that which hath taken winde, of Lard that is yeallow, of milke, that is turned. And finally I say, the felicitie that gluttons haue in eating, the selfe same haue they in keeping.
Oh vnhappie are the gluttons, and much more the couetous: for the tast of one consisteth only in the throate, & the felicitie of the other consisteth A comparison between the glutton, & the vsurer. in that he may locke vp in his chest.
Wee haue now seene how the couetous weare simple apparell, keepe a poore Table, and dwell in a filthie house: and yet they lesse regard those things that touch their honor. For, if they had their eares as open to heare, as they haue their hearts bent at eache houre to gather and heape vp: they should heare how they are called mysers, vsurers, niggards, pinchpennies, oppressors, cruell, vnthankefull, and vnfortunate. Finally I say, that in the comon-wealth they are so hated, that all men had rather lay hāds vpon their bodyes to kill them, then tongues on their renowme, to defame them. The couetous man is of all other the most vnlucky. For, if he fall at strife with any, he shal find no one friend that will come to visit him in his house: but he shal haue a hundred thieues which wil rob him of his goods. For to reuenge a couetous enemy, a man neede desire nought else but that he liue long: for, hee is more tormented in his life with his owne couetousnes, then he can be otherwise with any pennance. If rich men would say vnto me, that they doe not reioice to haue faire houses, sithēs they haue thē, neither of curious apparell, since they may weare it, nor of daintie meates, sithens they may eate them, and that that which they doe, is not to be couetous, but for that they are good Christians.
In so iust a thing, reason would my pen should cease: but I am sorry, they so little esteem things touching their honour, and much lesse the matters touching their conscience.
If the auaritious say, hee keepeth goods to do almes, I doe not beleeue it: for dayly we see, if a poor man aske him alms, hee answereth them immediatly, God helpe you, for hee hath neither purse nor money. The couetous The almes of the couetous man, if he giue any. vseth this, that he neuer giueth almes in his house, but fat meat, restie bacon, rotten cheese, & hoary bread: so that it seemeth rather that they make cleane their house, then giue almes to the poore. If the couetous man would tell vs, that that which they haue, is to discharge some debts of their predecessors, wherewith they are burdened. I say, it is a vaine excuse, sithens wee see that the willes of their fathers, of their mothers, and of their grandfathers, be not as yet performed, neyther will they thinke to performe them, which seemeth very true. For since the houre that they layde their fathers in the graue, they neuer had any thought of their deade Fathers.
Hee which of pure couetousnesse and misery, suffereth himselfe to dye for hunger and colde: I thinke hee hath small deuotion for to giue almes, and much lesse to doe any man good. If the couetous man say vnto vs, that that which hee keepeth, is for none other cause but for to build a sumptuous Chappell, and to leaue of them some memory: To this I answere, That if such a one doeth it with his owne proper swette, and maketh restitution of all [Page 447] the euill that he hath done, it shall be sanctified, and of all good men commended: but if the couetous wil that many liue in great pouerty, onely to make a rich tombe, God doth not command that, neyther dooth the Church admit it: for sacrifice done to God with the cries of others is not acceptable.
If the couetous tell vs, that thogh they heape treasures, it is not but at their death to distribute it vnto the poore, and to be brought honestly to the ground: I say that I commend this purpose, so his entent bee accordingly performed: but I am sorry the couetous man should thinke hereby to merite, and that hee should thus discharge the wickednesse of his life, for the distribution of a little money after his death.
I would thinke it more sure, that Princes & great Lords should spend their goods to marry poore maydens being Orphans in their life, then to commaund money to bee dealt after their death. For oft times the heyres or their executors, the body interred, doe little performe the will of the Testator: and much lesse obserue the Legacies bequeathed, though it be to the vtter vndoing of the poore Orphanes.
O what guerdon and commendation deserueth he that iustly and truely dischargeth the Legacies of the dead, and of the surplus (if any be) or with their owne, releeue the Orphanes, and marry the poore maydens, keeping them from the vices of the worlde. Suppose that a couetous man chanceth to traffique at Medine in Spaine, at Lions in France, at Lisbone in Portingall, at London in England, at Antwarpe in Flaunders, at Millaine in Lombardy, at Florence in Italy, at Palermo in Scicill, at Prage in Bohemie, and at Buda in Hungarie: Finally, vith his eyes he hath seene all Europe, and by traffique he hath knowledge of all Asia. Admit now that in euery place he hath gotten goods, and that which he hath gotten, was not with whole conscience, but acording to the companies, so hath the offences beene diuers.
In this case, if at the houre of death when the couetous man diuideth his money betweene the children, hee might also deuide his offences, so that he dispossessing himselfe of the goods, might thereby bee free from the offences, then it were well. But alas it is not so, for the wicked children liue triumphing on the earth with the goods, and the miserable father goeth weeping to hell with his sinnes.
CHAP. XXV. Of a letter which the Emperor Marcus Aurelius wrote to his friend Cincinnatus, who beeing a Romane Knight became a marchant of Capua, wherein hee toucheth those Gentlemē which take vpon them the trade of Marchanaize against their vocation. It is diuided into three Chapters,
MArke the Emperour with his brother Annius Verus, felow in the Empire, wisheth to thee Cincinnatus The Emperour sheweth the abuse of those that leaue their calling. of Capua, health to thy person, and grace against thy euill fortune. From the feast of our mother Berecinthe, I haue seene neyther seruāt of thy house, nor read letter of thy hand, which maketh me suspect greatly that thy health is in danger, or that thou mistrustest our friendshipp: for earnest friendship requireth dayly [Page 448] communication or visitation: I pray thee be not so carelesse from henceforth, and doe not forget vs in such wise. I meane that thou wilt come and see vs, or at the least that thou wilt write vnto vs often: for the letters of faithfull friends, though vtterly they doe not take from vs the desire of the presence: yet at the least, they make vs hope for a meeting. I know that thou mayest answere mee, that in the Common wealth of Capua thou art so busied, that it is impossible thou shouldest write vnto mee: hereto I answere thee.
That in no affayres thou canst be so occupied, that it bee a lawfull let, not to communicate, or write vnto thy friend: For we may well call the time which wee liue, to bee well employed, which is spent in the seruice of God, and in the conuersation of our friends.
All the residue that we waste in talking, trauelling, sleeping, eating & resting, wee ought not to write it in the booke of life, but in the Register of death: For albeit that in such sē blable works the body is refreshed, yet therewith the heart cannot be comforted.
I sweare vnto thee therefore my friend, that it is impossible that man take any contentation of any worldly thing, where the heart is not at rest: for our comfort is not in the sinewes or in the bones of the body, but in the liuely power of the soule, It is long sithence that you and I haue knowne together, it is long time likewise that I loued thee, and thou me: and sith wee are so true olde friends, it is but reason, that with good works wee doe renue our friendship. For falsly they vsurpe the name of friendshippe, which are not conuersant one with the other, no more then if they were strangers. The man which speaketh not to me, which writeth not to mee, which seeth me not, which visiteth me not, which giueth me not, and to whome I giue not.
I would not hee were my enemy: but it little auaileth mee that hee cal mee friend, for particular friendship consisteth not in abundance, but that friends do open their harts, and talke with their persons.
Peraduenture thou wilt say, that the great distance which is from Rome to that Country, hath been occasion to diminish our friendshippe: for the noble hearts are on fire with the presence of that they loue, and haue great pain with the absence of that they desire.
I answere, that the farther the delicious wines are sent, from the place where they grow, the greater strength they haue. I meane, that herein true Wherein true friendship consisteth. friends are knowne, when their persons are surthest seuered: for then are their wills most conioyned.
Tell mee I pray thee Cincinnatus, sithence alwayes thou hast found mee a diligent friend in thy seruice, why doest thou mistrust my faithfull good will? The greene leaues outwardly doe shew that the tree inwardly is not drie, I meane, that the good workes outwardly doe declare the feruentnes of the heart inwardly. If thou Cincinnatus presumest to bee a true friend of thy friend, I will thou know this rule of friendship which is: where perfect loue is not, there wanteth alway faithfull seruice: and for the contrary he that perfectly loueth, assuredly shall be serued. I haue beene, am and will be thine, therfore thou shalt doe me great iniurie, if thou art not mine.
CHAP. XXVI. The Emperour proceedeth in his Letter, & declareth what vertues men ought to vse, and the vices which they ought to eschew.
IN times past, I beeing yong and thou olde, I did succour thee with money, The Emperour sheweth what vertues men ought to vse, and the vices they ought to eschew. and thou me with good counsell: but now the world is otherwise changed, in that thy white hayres doe iudge thee to be old, and thy works doe cause thee to be yong: Therefore necessity compelleth mee, that we change our stile, which is: that I succour thee with counsell, though thou giue me no money therefore: for I count thy couetousnesse to bee such, that for all the good counsell, and Counsellours of Rome, thou wilt not vouchsafe to giue one quatrine of Capua.
Now for the good that I wish thee, and for that which I owe to the Law of friendshippe, I will presently giue thee a counsell, whereby thou maiest know what a good man ought to doe, to bee beloued of God, and feared and loued of men. If thou wilt quietly leade thy life in this miserable World, retaine this well in memory which I write vnto thee,
First, the good deeds thou hast receyued of any, those shalt thou remember: and the wrongs thou hast sustained, them shalt thou forget. Secondarily, esteeme much thy owne little, and weigh not the much of an other. Thirdly, the company of the good alwaies couet, and the conuersation of the euill dayly flye. Fourthly, to the great shew thy selfe graue, and to the small more conuersant. Fiftly, to those which are present, do alwaies good works: and of those that be absent, alwaies speake good words. Sixtly, weigh little the losse of fortune, and esteeme much things of honour. The seuenth, to winne one thing, neuer aduenture thou manie: nor for many things doubtful do not aduenture any one thing certaine. Finally, and lastly, I pray thee, and aduertise thee that thou haue no enemie, and that thou keepe but one friend. He which among the good, will bee counted for good, none of these things hee ought to want, I know well that thou wilt haue great pleasure to see these my counsels well written: but I ensure thee, I shal haue greater pleasure to see them in thy decdes well obserued: For by writing to giue good counsell, it is easie: but by workes to follow the same, is maruellous hard.
My faithfull friendship to thee plighted, and thy great ability considered, caused mee alwayes for thee in Rome to procure honourable offices, and by my sute thou hast beene Edite, and Tribune, and master of the horses, wherein thou behauedst thy selfe with such wisedome, that all the Senate therefore yeelded mee most hearty thanks, I procuring them for thee, and thou for thy selfe winning such perpetuall renowme. One thing of thee I vnderstand, which with good will I would not haue knowne, and much lesse that any such thing by thee should haue bin committed: that is to say; That thou leauing thy Office of Pretorship in the ware by Lande, hast taken vpon thee the traffique of a Marchaunt by sea: so that those which in Rome knew thee a knight, doe see thee now in Capua, a Marchaunt. My pen indyting this my letter, for a time stood in suspence for no other cause, but onely to see [Page 450] what thing in thee first I might best blame: either the noble office which thou didst forsake, or the vile and base estate which thou hast chosen. And though thou be so much bereaued of thy sences, yet call to minde thy auncient predecessours which died in the warres, onely to leaue theyr children, and nephews armed knights: and that thou presently seekest to loose thy libertie throgh thy couetousnes, which they wan by their valiantnes. I thinke I am not deceyued, that if thy predecessors were reuiued, as they were ambicious of honour, so would they bee greedy to eate thee in morsels, sinues, bones & all. For the childrē which vniustly take honour from their Fathers, of reason ought to loose their liues.
The Castles, Townes, houses, mountaines, woods, beastes, Iewells, and siluer, which our predecessors haue left vs, in the end by long continuance do perish: and that which causeth vs to haue perpetuall memorie of them, is, the good renowme of theyr life. And therefore if this bee true, it is a great shame for their parentes to haue such children, in whome the renowme of their predecessours doth end. In the flourishing time of Cicero the Orator, when by his counsel the whole Common-wealth was gouerned, hee being then of power, both in knowledge, and of money: Salust saide vnto him in his Inuectiue, that hee was of base stocke: wherevnto hee aunswered: Great cause haue I to render thankes vnto the Gods, that I am not as thou art, by whō thy high Linage is ended: A worthy saying of Cicero. but my poore stocke by me doth now begin to rise. It is great pittie to see, how many good, noble, and valiaunt men are dead: but it is more griefe to see presently their children vicious & vnthrifts. So that there remaineth as much memory of their infamy, as ther doth of the others honesty. Thou makest me ashamed, that thou hast forsaken to conquere the enemyes as a Romane knight, and that thou arte become a marchant, as a poore Plebeian.
Thou makest mee to muse a little, my friende Cincinnatus, that thou wilt harme thy familiars, and suffer straungers to liue in peace. Thou seekest to procure death to those which giue vs life: and to deliuer from death, those which take our life. To Rebells thou giuest rest, and to the peace-makers, thou giuest anoyance. To those which take from vs our owne thou wilt giue, and to those which giueth vs of theirs, thou wilt take. Thou condemnest the innocents, and the condemned, thou wilt deliuer. A defender of thy countrey thou wilt not bee, but a tyraunt of thy Common-wealth. To all these things aduentureth he, which leaueth weapons, and falleth to Marchandise. With my self oft times I haue mused, what occasion should mooue thee to forsake Chiualrie, wherein thou hadst such honour, and to take in hand marchaundise, where of followeth such in famie? I say, that it is as much shame for thee to haue gone from the warres as it is honor for those which are born to office in the common-wealth.
My friend Cincinnatus, my end tendeth not to condemne marchaundise nor marchaunts, nor to speake euill of those which trafficke, by the trade of buying and selling. For, as without the valiant knights, warres cannot bee atchieued: so likewise without the diligent marchants, the commonwealth cannot be maintained? I cannot imagine for what other cause thou shouldest forsake the warres, and trafficque marchandise, vnlesse it were, because thou now being old and wantest force to assault men openly in the straytes: shouldst with more ease sitting in thy chayre, robbe secretly in the marketplace. O poore Cincinnatus, sithens thou buiest cheap & sellest deare, promisest much, & performest little: thou [Page 451] buiest by one measure, and sellest by another, thou watchest that none deceyue thee, and playest therein as other marchants accustome. And to conclude, I sweare, that the measure wherewith the Gods shall measure thy life, shall bee much iuster then that of thy merites.
Thou hast taken on thee an office, wherewith, the which they companions in many daies haue robbed, thou in one houre by deceit dost get, and afterwards the time shall come, when all the goods which thou hast gotten, both by truth, and falshood, shall bee lost, not onely in an houre which is long, but in a moment which is but short. Whether wee giue much, we haue much, we may do much, or we liue much, yet in the end the gods are so iust, that all the euill we do cō mit shall be punished, and for all the good wee worke, we shall be rewarded, so that the Gods oftentimes permit, that one alone shall scourge many, and afterwards the long time punisheth all.
CHAP. XXVII. The Emperour concludeth his letter, and perswadeth his friend Cincinnatus to despise the vanities of the world, and sheweth though a man bee neuer so wise, yet he shall haue need of another mans counsell.
IF I knew thy wisedome esteemed the world, and the vanities thereof, so The Emperour concludeth his letter, describing the vanities of the world. much as the worlde doth possesse thee, and thy dayes, as by thy white hairs most manifestly doth appeare: I need not to take the pains to perswade thee, nor thou shouldest bee annoied in hearing me: Notwithstanding thou beeing at the gate of great care, reason would that some should take the clapper to knocke threeat, with some good counsell: for though the rasor be sharpe, it needeth sometimes to be whet. I meane though mans vnderstanding bee neuer so cleare, yet from time to time it needeth counsell.
Vertuous men oft times doe erre, not because they would fall, but for that the things are so euill of disgestion, that the vertue they haue, sufficeth not to tell them what thing is necessary for their profit. For the which cause it is necessary, that his will bee brideled, his wit fyned, his opinion changed, his memory sharpened, and aboue all, now and then, that hee forsake his owne aduise, and cleaue vnto the counsell of an other. Men which couet to make high, sumptuous, faire and large buildings, haue great care that the foundation thereof bee surely layed: for where the foundations are not sure, there the whole buildings are in great danger. The manners and conditions of this world, (that is to say) the prosperous estates whereupon the children of vanity are set, are founded of quicke-sand: in that sort, that bee they neuer so valiant, prosperous and mighty, a little blast of winde doth stirre them, a little heat of prosperity doth open thē, a shower of aduersity doth wet thē, and vnawares death striketh them all flat to the ground. Men seeing they cannot bee perpetuall, do procure to continue themselues, in raising vp proud buildings, & leauing to theyr children great estates: wherein I count them fooles, no lesse then in things superfluous: for admit the pillers be of gold, the beames of siluer, and that those which ioyne them bee kings, & those which build them noble, & in that mining they consume a 1000. yeares before they can haue it [Page 452] out of the ground, or that they can come to the bottomes: I sweare vnto them, that they shall finde no stedy rocke, nor liuely mountain, where they may build their house sure, nor to cause their memory to bee perpetuall.
The immortall Gods haue participated all things to the mortal men, immortality onely reserued, & therefore they are called immortall, for so much as they neuer dye, and wee others The frailety and state of man described. are called mortall, because dayly we vanish away. O my friēd Cincinnatus, men haue an end, & thou thinkest the Gods neuer ought to ende. Now greene, now ripe, now rotten, fruit is seuered from this life, from the tree of the miserable flesh, and esteem this as nothing, for so much as this is naturall. But oftentimes in the leafe or flower of youth, the frost of some disease, or the perill of some mishap doth take vs away: so that when wee thinke to be aliue in the morning, we we are dead in the night.
It is a tedious and long worke to weaue a cloth: yet whē in many daies it is wouen, in one moment it is cut. I meane, that it is much folly to see a man with what toyle hee enricheth himselfe, and into what perill he putteth himself to win a state of honour: and afterwards when wee thinke litle we see him perish in his estate, leauing of him no memory. O my friend Cincinnatus, for the loue that is betweene vs, I desire thee, and by the immortall Gods I do coniure thee, that thou giue no credit to the world which hath this condition, to hide much copper vnder little gold, vnder the colour of one truth, hee telleth vs a thousand lyes, and with one short pleasure he mingleth tenne thousand displeasures. He beguileth those to whom he pretendeth most loue, and procureth great damages to them, to whom he giueth most goods, hee recompenseth them greatly which serue him in iest, and to those which truly loue him, he giueth mockes for goods.
Finally, I say, that when wee sleepe most sure, he waketh vs with greatest perill. Eyther thou knowest the world with his deceit, or not: if thou knowest him not, why dost thou serue him, if thou dost know him, why dost thou follow him? Tell mee, I pray thee, wouldest not thou take the theefe for a foole, which would buy the rope, wherewith hee should bee hanged, and the murtherer that would make the sword wherewith hee should bee beheaded, and the robber by the hieway, that would shew the well wherein hee should be cast? and the traytor that should offer himselfe in place for to be quartered? the rebel that shold disclose himselfe to be stoned? Then I swear vnto thee, that thou art much more a foole which knowest the world, and will follow it, and serue it.
One thing I will tell thee, which is such, that thou neuer oughtest to forget it, that is to say that we haue great need of faith, not to beleeue the vanities which we see, then to beleeue the great malice which with our eares we heare. I returne to aduise thee, to read and consider this word which I haue spoken, for it is a sentence of profound mistery.
Doest thou thinke Cincinnatus, that Rich men haue little care to get great riches? I let thee know that the goods of this world are of such condition, Cares that are incident to them that hoorde vp riches. that before the poore man doth locke vp in his chests an 100. crownes: hee feeleth a thousand griefes and cares in his heart. Our predecessors haue seen it, we see it presently, & our successors shall see it: that the money which wee haue gotten is in a certaine number: but the cares and trauels which it bringeth are infinit. We haue few painted [Page 453] houses, and few noble estates in Rome, that within a litle time haue not great cares in theyr hearts, cruell enmityes with their neighbours, much euill will of theyr heyres, disordinate importunities of their frends, perilous malices of their Enemies, and aboue all in the Senate they haue innumerable proces: and oft times to locke vp a little good in their chests, they make tenne thousand blots in their honour.
Oh how manie haue I knowne in Deceyuers neuer go vnpunished, either in this life, or the other. Rome, to whom it hath chaunced, that all that they haue gotten in Rome, to leaue vnto their best beloued Childe: another heyre (with little care,) of whom they thought not, hath enioyed it.
There can bee nothing more iust, then that all those which haue beguyled others with deceyte in their life, should bee found deceyued in their vaine imaginations after theyr death.
Iniurious should the Gods be, if in all the euils that the euill propound to doe, they should giue them time and place to accomplish the same. But, the gods are so iust and wise, that they dissemble with the euill, to the ende they should beginne, and follow the things according to theyr owne wills and fantasies: and afterwardes at their best time, they cut off their liues, to leaue them in greater torment. The Gods should bee very cruell, and to them it should bee great griefe to suffer, that that which the euill haue gathred, to the preiudice of many good, they shold enioy in peace many yeres. Mee thinketh it great follie, to knowe that we are borne weeping and to see that wee dye sighing: and yet for all this, wee dare liue laughing?
I would aske of the world and his worldlings, sithens that we enter into the world weeping, and go out of the world sighing: why wee should liue laughing? For, the rule to measure all parts, ought to be equall.
Oh Cincinnatus, who hath beguyled thee? to the ende that for one bottle of water of the Sea of this worlde for thy pleasure, thou wilt blister thy hand with the rope of cares, and bruse thy bodie in the anckor of troubles: and aboue all to aduenture thine own honour, for a glasse of water of another man.
By the faith of a good man, I sweare vnto thee, that for all that great quantitie of Water thou drawest, for that great deale of money thou hast, thou remainest as much deade for thyrste, drinking of that water, as when thou wert without water in the cup.
Consider nowe thy yeares, if my counsell thou wilt accept, thou shalt demaund death of the Gods, to rest thee as a vertuous man: and not riches A good counsell to reframe frō couetousnes. to liue as a Foole.
With the teares of mine eyes I haue bewayled manie in Rome, when I saw them depart out of this worlde: and thee I haue bewayled, and do bewaile (my friend Cincinnatus) with drops of bloud, to see the return into the world The credite thou hadst in the Senate, the bloud of thy predecessours, my Friendship, the authoritie of thy person, the honour of thy parentage: the slaunder of thy Common-wealth, ought to withdraw thee from so great couetousnesse.
Oh poore Cincinnatus, consider the white honored haires which doe fall, ought to be occupied in the noble armies: sithens thou art noble of bloud, valiant in person, auncient of yeares, and not euill willed in the Commonwealth. For, thou oughtest to consider, that more worth is reason, for the pathway of men which are good: then the common opinion, which is the large high way of the euill. For, if it be narow to go on the one side, there is no dust wherewith the eyes be blinded, as in the other. I will giue thee a counsell, and if thou feelest thy selfe euill, [Page 454] neuer count thou mee for friend. Lust no more after the greasie fatte of temporal goods, since thou hast short life: For wee see daily manie, before they come to thy age dye, but wee see fewe after thy age liue.
After this counsell I will giue thee an aduise, that thou neuer trust present prosperitie: For, then alway thou art in daunger of some euill Fortune: If thou art mounted into such pricking thornes as a foole: me thinketh thou oughtest to discend as a Sage. And in this sort all will say amongst the people, that Cincinnatus is descended, but not fallen. My Letter I will conclude, and the conclusion thereof see well thou note, that is to say: That thou and thy Trade shall bee cursed: where you other merchaunts will liue poore, to dye rich. Once againe I returne to curse you, for the couetousnes of an euill man is alwayes accomplished, Couetousnes alwayes accursed. to the preiudice of manie good.
My wife Faustine doeth salute thee, and she was not a litle troubled when she knew thou wert a Marchaunt, and that thou keepest a shop in Capua. I send thee a Horse to ride vppon, and one of the most richest Arras of Trypolie, to hang thy house withall, a precious ring, and a a pommel of a sword of Alexandrie: And all these things I do not send thee, for that I know thou hast neede thereof: but rather not to forget the good custome I haue to giue. Pamphile thy aunt and my neighbour is dead, and I can tell thee, that in Rome dyed not a woman of a long time, which of her left such renowme: for so much as she forgot all enmities: shee succoured the poore, she visited the banished, she entertained friends, and also I hearde say, that shee alone did light all the temples. Prescilla thy cousin hath the health of body, thogh for the death of her mother her heart is heauie. And without doubt she hath reason: for the onely sorrowes which the Mothers suffer to bring vs forth, though with drops of bloud we shold bewaile them, yet wee cannot recompence them. The Gods be in thy custodie and preserue mee, with my wife Faustine, from all euill Fortune.
Marke of Mount Celio, with his owne hand.
CHAP. XXVIII. ¶ The Authour perswadeth Princes and great Lordes to flye couetousnes and Auarice, and to become bountifull and liberall, which vertue is euer pertinent to the royall person, &c.
PIsistratus, the renowmed Tyrant among the Athenians, since his friends coulde not endure the cruelties that he committed, eache one returned to his owne house, and vtterly forsook him. The which when the Tyraunt saw, hee layd all his treasure and Garments on a heape together, and went to visite his friends, to whome with bitter teares hee spake A saying of Pisistratus. the Tyrant. these word. All my Apparell and money here I bring you, with determination, that if you will vse my company, we will go all to my house, and if you will not come into my company, I am determined to dwell in yours. For, if you bee weary to follow mee, I haue great desire to serue you: sithens you know that they cannot be called faithfull Friendes, where the one cannot beare with the other,
Plutarchus in his Apothegmes saith: that this Tyraunt Pisistratus was verie rich, and extreame couetous: so that they write of him, that the golde and [Page 455] siluer which once came into his possession, neuer man saw it afterwards: but if hee had necessitie to buy anie thing, if they would not present it vnto him willinglie, hee would haue it by force.
When he was dead, the Athenians determined to weigh him and his treasure: the case was maruellous, that the gold and siluer hee had weied more then his dead body sixe times. At that time in Athens there was a Philosopher called Lido, of whom the Athenians demaunded, what they should doe with the treasure The opiniō of the Philosopher Lido, concerning a couetous man. and dead body? Mee thinketh (qd, this Philosopher) That if those which are liuing, did know any siluer or gold which the tyrant tooke from them, it should bee restored againe immediately: and doe not maruell hereat, that I doe not require it to bee put in the common treasure: For God will not permit that the Common wealth bee enriched with the theft of tyrants: but with the swet of the Inhabitants. If any goods remaine which doe not appeare from whom they haue beene taken, me thinketh that they ought to bee distributed among the poore: for nothing can bee more iust then that which the goods wherewith the tirant hath empouerished many, with the selfe same wee should enrich some.
As touching his buriall, me thinketh hee ought to bee cast out to the fowles to bee eaten, and to the dogs to be gnawne.
And let no man thinke this sentence to bee cruell: for we are bound to do no more for him at his death, then hee did for himselfe in his life, who being so ouercome with auarice that he would neuer disburse so much money, as should buy him seuen foot of earth wherein his graue should bee made, And will you know, that the Gods haue done a great good to all Greece to take life from this tirant: First, it is good, because much goods are dispersed, which heretofore lay hid, and serued to no purpose.
Secondly, that many tongues shal rest: for the treasures of this Tirant, made great want in the Commonwealth, and our tongues the greatest part of the day were occupied, to speake euill of his person.
Me thinketh this Philosopher hath touched two things, which the couetous man doth in the cōmon-welth, that is to say, that drawing much golde and siluer to the hidden Treasure, hee robbeth the marchandize wherewith the people doe liue: The other damage is, that as hee is hated of all, so he causeth rancour and malice in the hearts of all: for he maketh the rich to murmur, and the poore to blaspheme.
One thing I reade of in the lawes of the Lumbardes, worthy (of truth) to A custome among the Lumbards, worthy to be noted and followed. bee noted and knowne, and no lesse to be followed, which is, that all those which should haue gold, siluer, money, silkes, and clothes, euery yeare they should bee registred in the place of iustice. And this was, to the ende, not to consent, nor permit them to heap much, but that they should haue to buy, sell, and traffique, wherby the goods were occupied among the people: so that he which did spēd the money to the profit of his house, it was taken for good of the commonwealth. If Christians would do that which the Lūbards did, there should not be so many couetous men in the common wealth: for nothing can bee more vniust, then one rich man heape vp that which wold suffice 10000. to liue with all: we cannot deny, but that cursed auarice to al sorts of men, is as preiudicial, as the moth which eateth all garments. Therefore speaking the truth, there is no house that it doth not defile: for it is more perillous to haue a clod of earth fall into a mans eye, then a beame vpon his foote.
[Page 456] Agesilaus the renowmed king of the Lacedemonians, beeing asked of a man of Thebes, what word was most odible to be spoken to a King: and what word was that that could honor him most? hee aunswered. The Prince with nothing so much ought to bee annoyed, as to say vnto him that hee is rich, and of nothing hee ought so much to reioyce, as to be called poore. For, the glory of the good Prince consisteth not in that hee hath great treasures: but in that hee hath giuen great recompences.
This word without doubt, of all the world was one of the most royallest and worthyest to be committed vnto me morie, Alexander, Pyrrhus, Nicanor, Ptholomeius, Pompeius, Iulius Caesar, Scipto, Hanniball, Marcus Porlius, Augustus, Cato, Traian, Theodose, Marcus Aurelius: &c. All these Princes haue bin very valiaunt and vertuous: but adding hereunto also, the Writers which had written the deeds that they did in their liues, haue mentioned also the pouertie which they had at their death. So that they are no lesse exalted, for the riches they haue spent, then for the prowesses they haue done.
Admit that men of meane estate be auaritious, and Princes & great Lords Couetousnes in great personages, a greater blemish thē in the poore also couetous: the fault of the one is not equall with the vice of the other, though in the ende all are culpable: For if the poore man keepe, it is for that hee would not want, but if the knight hoord, it is because he hath too much. And in this case I would say, that cursed bee the Knight which trauelleth, to the end that goods abound, and doth not care that betweene two bowes his renowm fall to the ground.
Sithens Princes and great Lordes will that men doe count them Noble, vertuous, and valiaunt, I would fayne know what occasion they haue to be niggards and hard?
If they say, that that which they keepe is to eate, herein there is no reason: for in the end, where the rich eateth least at his table, there are many that had rather haue that which remaineth, then that which they prouide to eate in their houses.
If they say that that which they keepe is to apparrell them, herein also they haue as little reason: for the greatnes of Lordes consisteth not in that they should bee sumptuously apparrelled, but that they prouide that their seruants goe not rent not torne. If they say it is to haue in their chambers precious iewels, in their hals rich Tapestry, as little would I admit this answere: for all those which enter into Princes Pallaces, doe behold more if those that haunt their chambers bee vertuous, then that the Tapestries be rich.
If they say it is to compasse their Cities with walles, or to make fortresses on their frontiers: so likewise is this answere among the others very cold.
For good Princes ought not to trauell, but to be well willed, and if in The safetie of Princes consists in the loue of his subiects. their realms they be welbeloued, in the world they can haue no walles so strong, as in the hearts of their Subiects. If they tell vs that that they keepe is to marry their children, as little reason is that, for sithence Princes and great Lords haue great inheritances, they need not heape much: For if their children bee good, they shall encrease that shall be left them: and if by mishappe they be euill, they shall as well lose that which shall bee giuen them.
If they say vnto vs that which they heape is for the wartes in like manner, that is no iust excuse: For if such warre bee not iust, the Prince ought not to take it in hand, nor the people thereunto to condiscend: but if it be iust, the common-wealth then and not the Prince shall beare the [Page 457] charges thereof. For in iust warres, it is not sufficient that they giue vnto the Prince all their goods, but also they must themselues in person hazzard theyr liues.
If they tell vs that they keepe it to giue and dispose for theyr soules, at their dying day: I say it is not onely for want of wisedome, but extreame sollie. For, at the houre of death princes ought more to reioyce, for that they haue giuen, then for that at that time they giue.
Oh how Princes and great Lordes are euill counselled, since they suffer themselues to be slaundered for being couetous, onely to heape a little cursed treasure. For experience teacheth vs, no man can be couetous of goods, but needs he must be prodigall of honour, and abandon libertie.
Plutarche, in the Booke which hee made of the fortunes of Alexander, saith: That Alexander the great had a priuate seruant, called Perdicas: the which seeing that Alexander liberally A Question lemau ded of great Alaxander, & his answere. gaue all that which by great trauell hee attained: on a day he said vnto him: Tell mee, most Noble Prince, sithens thou giuest all that thou hast vnto others, what wilt thou haue for thy selfe?
Alexander answered. The glorie remaineth vnto mee, of that I haue wonne and gotten: and the hope of that which I will giue and winne.
And further he said vnto him, I will tell thee Perdicas: If I knew that men thought, that all that which I take were for couetousnes, I sweare vnto thee by the God Mars, that I would not beate downe one corner in a Towne: and to winne all the world, I would not go one dayes iourney. My intention is, to take the glorie vnto my selfe, and to diuide the goods amongst others.
These words so high, were worthy of a valiant and vertuous Prince, as of Alexander which spake them.
If that which I haue read in books doe not beguile mee, and that which with these eyes I haue seen: to become rich, it is necessarie that a man giue: For that Princes and great lords, who naturally are giuen to bee liberall, are alwayes fortunate to haue.
It chaunceth oft times, that some man giuing a little, is counted liberal, and another giuing much, is counted a niggard: the which proceedeth of this, that they know not, that liberalitie and niggardnesse consisteth not in giuing much or little: but to knowe well how to giue. For, the rewardes and recompences, which out of time are distributed, doe neyther profite them which receyue them, neyther agree to him which giueth them. A couetous man giueth more at one time, then a noble and free heart doeth in twentie: thus saith the prouerbe, It is An olde prouerbe. good comming to a niggardes feast.
The difference betweene the liberality of the one, and the misery of the other is, that the noble and vertuous doth giue that he giueth to many: but the niggard giueth that hee giueth, to one onely.
Of the which vnaduisement, princes ought carefully to beware. For if in such case one man alone should be found, which would commende his liberality, there are ten thousand which would condemne his couetousnes.
It happeneth ofte times to princes and great Lordes, that indeede they are free to recompence, but in giuing, they are very vnfortunate. And the cause is, that they giue it not to vertuous persons and wel conditioned, but to those which are vnthankefull, and doe not acknowledge the benefite receyued.
So that in giuing to some, they they haue not made them their friēds, and in not giuing vnto others, they haue made them their Enemyes.
It sufficeth not vnto Princes and great Lordes, to haue a great desire to [Page 458] giue, but to know, when, how, or where, and to whom they ought to giue: For if they bee accused, otherwise to heape vp treasures, they ought also to be condemned for that they doe giue.
When a man hath lost all that he hath in play, in Whores, in Banquets, and other semblable vices: It is but reason they bee ashamed: but when they haue spent it, like noble, stout, and liberall men, they ought not to bee discontented; for the wise man ought to take no displeasure for that he loseth, but for that hee euill spendeth: and hee ought to take no pleasure for that hee giueth, but for that he giueth not well.
Dion the Grecian in the life of the Emperour Seuerus sayth, That one day in the Feast of the God Ianus, when hee had giuen diuers rewardes and sundry gifts, as well to his owne seruants, as to str [...]ngers, and that he was greatly commended of all the Romanes, he sayde vnto them.
Doe you thinke now (Romans) that I am very glad for the gifts, rewards, and recompences which I haue bestowed: and freely giuen, and that I am very glorious for the prayses you haue giuen mee? by the God Mars I sweare vnto you, and let the God Ianus bee so mercifull vnto vs all this yeare, that the pleasure I A worthy [...]aying of the Emperour Seuerus. haue is not so great for that I haue giuen: as the griefe is, for that I haue no more to giue.
CHAP. XXIX. The Author followeth his intention, and perswadeth Gentlemen and those that professe Armes, not to abase themselues for gaines sake, to take vpon them any vile function or office.
PLutarch in his Apothegmes sayeth, that King Ptolomeus the first, was a The prayse of King Ptolomeus. Prince of so good a nature, and so gentle in conuersation, that oft times he went to supper to the houses of his familiar friendes, and many nights he remayned there to sleepe. And truely in this case hee shewed himselfe to be welbeloued of his: For speaking according to the truth, a Prince on whose life dependeth the whole state of the Commōwealth, ought to credite few at the Table, and also fewer in the bed. Another thing this Ptolomeus did, which was, when he inuited his friendes to dinner or supper, or other strangers, of some he desired to borrow stools, of others napkins, and of others cups: and so of other things, for hee was a prodigall Prince: For all that his seruants in the morning had bought, before the night following he gaue it away.
One day all the Nobles of his Realme of Egypt assembled together, and desired him very earnestly, that hee would bee more moderate in giuing: for they sayd, through his prodigality, the whole Realme was empouerished. The king answered: You others of Egypt are maruellously deceiued, that the poore and needy prince is troubled. In this I dare say [Page 459] vnto you, that the poore and needie Prince ought to thinke himselfe happie: For good Princes ought more to seeke to enrich others, then to heape vp Treasures for themselues.
Oh happie is the Common-wealth which deserueth to haue such a prince, and happy is that tongue, which could pronounce such a sentence. Certainly A wise saying of King Ptolomeus. this Prince to all princes gaue good example and counsell, (That is to say) that for them it was more honor, and also more profite, to make others rich, then to be rich themselues. For if they haue much, they shal want no crauers, and if they haue little, they shall neuer want seruants to serue them.
Suetonius Tranquillus in the booke of Caesars, sayth: that Titus the Emperour one night after supper, from the bottome of his heart fetched a heauie sighe: and hee being demaunded of those which were at his table, why hee sighed so sore? hee aunswered. Wee haue lost at this day my Friendes. By the which wordes the Emperour meant, that he counted not that day amongst A worthy saying of Titus the Emperour. those of his life: wherin he had giuen no reward nor gift.
Truly this Noble Prince was both valiaunt and mightie, since hee sighed and had displeasure, not, for that which in many dayes hee had giuen, but because that one day he had failed to giue any thing.
Pelopa of Thebes, was a man in his time, very valiaunt, and also Rich, and sith hee was fortunate in getting, and liberall in spending: one asked him, why hee was so prodigall to giue? he aunswered. If to thee it seemeth that I giue much, to mee it seemeth yet I should giue more: sithens the goods ought to serue me, and not I to honor them. Therefore, I will that they call mee the spender of the goods, and not the stewardes of the house.
Plutarche in his Apothegmes, saith: that K. Darius flouting at K. Alexander, for beeing poore, sent to know where his Treasures were for such great Armyes? To whom Alexander the great aunswered.
Tell King Darius, that hee keepeth in his coffers, his treasours of mettall: and that I haue no other Treasours, then the hearts of my Friendes. And further tell A worthy saying of great Alex: to king Darius. him, that one man alone can robbe all his treasors: but he and all the world can not take my Treasures from mee, which are my Friendes. I durst say, affirming that Alexander saide: That hee cannot bee called poore, which is rich of Friends. For, we say by experience, Alexander with his Friendes, tooke king Darius treasures from him: and king Darius with all his treasures, was not puissant enough to take Alexanders friendes from him.
Those which of theyr naturall inclination are shamefast, and in estate Noble, they ought aboue all things to flye the slaunder of couetousnes: For, without doubt greater is that honour which is lost, then the goods that are gotten.
If Princes and great Lordes, of their owne naturall inclination be liberall, let them followe their nature: but if perchaunce of their own nature they are enclyned to couetousnes: let them enforce their will. And if they will not doe it, I tell them which are present, that a day shall come, when they shall repent. For, it is a generall rule, that the disordinate couetousnes, doe raise against themselues all venemous tongues. Thinke that when you watch to take mens goods, that others watch in like manner to take your honor. I doe not thinke that your life can be sure: For, there is no law that doeth ordaine, nor pacience that can suffer, to see my neighbour liue in quiet by the sweat of my browes.
A poore man esteemeth as much a cloake, as the rich man doeth his delicious life: Therefore it is a good [Page 460] consequent, that if the Rich man take the gowne from the poore, the poore man ought to take the life frō the rich.
Phocion amongst the Greekes was greatly renowmed: and this, not so much for that hee was sage, as for that hee did despise all worldly riches: vnto whome, when Alexander the great (king of Macedonte,) had sent him an hundred markes of siluer, he said vnto those that brought it: Why doth Alexander sende this Money vnto me, rather A worthy saying of Phocion, the phylosopher. then to other Phylosophers of Greece? They aunswered him: Hee doth send it vnto thee, for that thou art the least couetous, and most vertuous.
Then aunswered this Phylosopher, Tell Alexander, that though he knoweth not what belongeth vnto a Prince, yet I knowe well what pertayneth to a Phylosopher. For, the estate and office of Phylosophers is, to despise the treasurs of Princes: and the office of Princes, is to aske counsell of Phylosophers.
And further Phocion said: You shall say also to Alexander, That in that hee hath sent mee, hee hath not shewed himselfe a pittyfull Friend, but a cruell Enemie: for esteeming mee an honest man (such as hee thought I was) he should haue holpen me to haue been such.
These wordes were worthie of a wise man. It is great pittie, to see valiaunt and Noble men to be defamed of couetousnes, and onely for to get a fewe goods, hee abaseth himselfe to vile offices: which appertaine rather to meane persons, then to noble men and valiaunt knights. Whereof insueth, that they liue infamed, and all their friēds slandered. Declaring further I say, that it seemeth great lightnes, that a knight should leaue the honorable estate of chiualrie, to exercise the handycrafte of Husbandrie: and that the Horses should bee chaunged into Oxen, the speares to mattockes, and the weapons into ploughes: Finally, they doe desire to toyle in the fields, and refuse to fight in the Frontiers.
Oh, how much some Knightes of our time haue degenerated, from that their fathers haue bin in times past: for their predecessors did aduance themselues of the Infidells, which in the the fields they slew, and their children brag of their Corne and Sheepe they haue in their grounds,
Our auncient knights were not wont to sigh, but when they saw themselues in great distresse, and their successors weepe nowe, for that it rayned not in the moneth of May. Their Fathers did striue which of them could furnish most men, haue moste weapons, and Great difference betweene the anciēt warriours, & these of our times. keepe most horses: but their children now a dayes contend, who hath the finest witte, who can heape vp greatest treasours, and who can keepe most sheepe.
The Auncients striued who should keepe most men: but these worldlings at this day striue, who can haue greatest reuenues. Wherefore I say, since the one doeth desire as much to haue great Rents, as the others did delight to haue many weapons: It is as thogh Fathers should take the Sword by the pomell, and the children by the scabberd All the good arts are peruerted, and the arte of Chiualrie aboue all others is despised: And not without cause, I called it an art: for the ancient philosophers cōsumed a great time to write the lawes that the knights ought to keepe. And as now the order of the the Carthaginiās seemeth to bee most streight, so in times past, the order of Knighthood was the streightest. To whom I sweare, that if they obserued the order of chiualry, as good & gentle Knights: there remained no time vacant for them in life to bee vitious, nor wee should accuse them at theyr death as euil christians. The true and not fayned Knight, ought not to bee prowde, malicious, furious, a glutton, [Page 461] coward, prodigall, niggard, a lyer, a blasphemer, nor negligent. Finally, I say, that all those ought not to bee iudged as Knights, which haue golden spurs, vnlesse he hath therewith an honest life.
O if it pleased the King of Heauen, that Princes would now a daies examine as straightly those, which haue cure of soules, as the Romanes did those which had but charge of armies. In old time they neuer dubbed any man Knight, vnlesse hee were of noble bloud, proper of person, moderate in speech, exercised in the war, An ancient custome among the Romanes. couragious of heart, happy in armes, and honest in life: Finally, he ought of all to bee beloued for his vertue, and of none hated for his vice. The Knights in whom these vertues shined bright in Rome, had diuers liberties, that is to say, that they onely might weare rings, ride on horsebacke through the streetes, they might haue a shield, shut the gates at dinner, they might drinke in cupps of siluer, speake to the Senate, and make defyances, they might demand the ensigne, weare weapons, take the charge of Embassage, and ward at the gates of Rome
The Author hereof is Blondus in the booke De Italia illustrata. If Plinie deceyue vs not in an Epistle, & Plutarch in his Politikes, Seneca in a Tragedy, and Cicero in his Paradoxes: There was nothing wherein the Ancients were more circumspect, then in electing of their knights: now it is not so, but that one hauing money to buy a Lordship, immediately he is made Knight: it is not to fight against the enemies in the field, but more freely to commit vices, and oppresse the poore in the towns. To the end he may be a good Christian, hee ought to thinke vpon Iesus crucified, & to be a good knight, he ought alwayes to behold the armes of his shield, the which his Grandfather, or great Grandfather wanne. For they they shall see, that they wanne them not beeing in their houses: but in shedding of the bloud of their enemies in the Frontiers.
CHAP. XXX. Of a Letter which the Emperour wrote to Mercurius his neighbour, a Marchant of Samia, wherein men may learne the daungers of those which traffique by sea and also see the couetousnesse of them that trauell by land.
MArcus Aurelius Emperor of Rome, born in mount Celio, wisheth to thee A Letter of the Emperour to Mercurius. Mercurius his speciall friend, health, and consolation in the Gods, the onely Comforters. It seemeth well, that we are friends, sithens wee doe the works of charity: For I vnderstanding here thy mishap immediatly sent a messenger to comfort thee, and in hearing my disease, thou sendest a friend of thine to visite me. Wherefore men may perceiue if thou haddest me in mind, I did not forget thee.
I vnderstand that the messenger that went, and the other that came, met in Capua: the one carried my desire for thee, and the other brought thy letter for me. And if as diligently thou haddest read mine, as I attentiuly haue heard thine: thou shouldest thereby plainely know, that my heart was as full of sorrow, as thy spirite was full of paine. I was very glad, & great thanks I yeeld thee, that thou sendest to comfort me in my feuer tertian, & thy visitation came at the same houre that it left mee. But if the Goddes [Page 462] did leaue this fact in my hands, euen as they thought it good to fixe the feuer in my bones: I would not leaue thee without comfort, nor giue place to the feuer to returne againe. Oh how great is our pride, and the misery of mans life.
I speake this because I do presume to take many Realmes from other, & yet I haue not the power to plucke the feuer out of my owne bones. Tell mee I pray thee (Mercurius) what profite is it to vs to desire much, to What profiteth it a man to couet much, since his day [...]s are so short. procure much, to attaine much, and to presume much, since our dayes are so briefe, and our persons so frayle? It is long time since we haue been bound together in friendshipp, and many yeeres haue passed since we haue knowne the one the other: and the day that thy friendship trusted my faith, immediately my faith was bound, that thy euils should be mine, and my goods thine: for as the diuine Plato sayde, that onely is true friendship, where the bodies are 2. and the wils but one.
I count that suspitious frendshippe where the hearts are so diuided, as the wils are feuered: for there are diuers in Rome great friends in words, which dwell but x. house, a sunder, & haue their hearts ten thousand miles distant.
When thou wentst from Rome, and I came from Samia, thou knowest the agreement which we made in Capua, whereof I trust thou wilt not deceiue me now, but that I am another, thou here, and that thou shouldest be another, I there: so that my absence with thy presence, and thy presence with mine absence bee alwayes together: By relation of thy messenger, I vnder stood that thou hast lost much goods but as by thy letter I was enformed, the anguish of thy person was much greater. As we vnderstand here thou didst send a shippe laden with marchandize to Greece, and the Mariners and Factors desiring more to profite by their wisedome, then to accomplish thy couetousnesse: did cast the marchandize into the sea, and onely they trauelled to saue their persons, In deede in so straight and perillous a case, thou hast no reason to accuse them, nor yet they are bound to satisfie thee: for no man can cōmit greater folly, then for the goods of others to hazard his owne proper life.
Pardon mee (Mercury) I pray thee for that I haue spoken, and also for that I will say, which is, that for so much as the Mariners and Factors were not thy children, nor thy Kinsemen, nor thy friends, so that thy marchandize might haue come to the hauen safe, thou hast little passed, if they had all been drowned in the deepe gulfe of the sea.
Further, I say, though I would not say it, and thou much lesse heare it, that according to the litle care which you other couetous men haue, of the children and Factors of others, and according to the disordinate loue which you haue to your proper goods: whereas thou weepest bitterly for the losse of thy goods, though thou hadst seene all the Mariners drowned, thou wouldest not haue shedde one teare: For Romane marchants weepe rather for ten crownes lost, which they cannot recouer, then for ten men dying, the which tenne crownes would haue saued.
Mee thinketh it is neyther iust nor honest, that thou doe that which they tell mee thou doest, to complain of thy Factors, and accuse thy Mariners, onely to recouer of the poore men by land that which the fishe haue in their possession in the sea: For as thou knowest no man is bound to chaunge health, life nor the renowme of their persons, for the recouery of goods. Alas [Page 463] What pittie haue I on thee Mercurie? in that the shippe was loaden with thy marchandise: and the worst of all is: that according to my vnderstanding, and thy feeling, the Pyrates haue not caste such farthells into the Sea, as thoughts haue burdened and oppressed thy heart. I neuer saw man of such condition as thou art, for that thou seest the ship, (vntill such time) as they cast the marchandise ouer the boord, could not sayle safely: and yet thou doest lode thy selfe with riches, to goe to thy graue.
O grieuous and cursed riches, with the which neyther in the deepe Seas, neither yet in the maine land, our persons are in safeguarde: Knowing thy property, I would rather bind my selfe to seeke thy Leade and tinne, then thy heart so wounded. For, in the ende, Riches neuer letteth man be in quiet. thy leade is together in some place in the bottome of the Sea: but thy couetousnesse is seattered through all the whole Earth.
If perhaps thou shouldst dye, and the Surgions with the sharpe rasours should open thy stomacke, I sweare vnto thee, by the Mother Berecynthia, (which is the mother of all the Gods of Rome) that they should rather finde thy heart drowned with the lead, then in life with thy bodie. Now thou canst not be sicke of the Feuer tertain as I am, for the heat within thy body, and the pain in thy head, would cause thee to haue a double quartaine: and of such disease thou canst not bee healed on thy bed, but in the ship: not on land, but on the sea: not with phisitions, but with pirats. For the physitions would carry away the money, and the pirats would shew thee where thy leade fell.
Trouble not thy selfe so much Mercury, for though thou hast not thy lead with thee in the land, it hath thee with it in the sea, and thou oughtst inough to comfort thy selfe: for whereas before thou hadst it in thy coffers, thou hast it presently in thy intrailes. For, there thy life is drowned, where thy leade is cast.
O Mercury, now thou knowest, that the day that thou didst recommende thy goods to the vnknown rocks, and thy shippe to the raging Seas, and thy outragious Auarice vnto the furious windes, how much that thy factors went desiring thy profit and gaine, so much the more thou mightest haue bin assured of thy losse.
If thou hadst had this consideration, and hadst vsed this diligence, thy desire had bin drowned, & thy goods escaped. For, men that dare aduenture theyr goods on the Seas, they ought not to be heauy for that is lost, but they ought to reioice for that that is escaped,
Socrates, the auncient and great philosopher, determined to teach vs, not by words, but by workes, in what estimation Socrates teacheth vs how to esteeme the goods of this world. a man ought to haue the goods of this world: for he cast into the Sea not lead, but golde, not little, but much, not of another mans, but of his owne, not by force, but willingly, not by fortune, but by wisedome.
Finally, in this worthy fact, hee shewed so great courage, that no couetous man but would haue reioiced, to haue found so much on the land, as this phylosopher did delight to haue cast into the Sea. That which Socrates did was much, but greater ought we to esteeme that he said, which was this: Oh yee deceytfull goods, I will drowne you, rather then you should drowne mee.
Since Socrates feared, and drowned his owne proper goods, why doe not the couetousfeare to robbe the goods of other? This wise philosopher wold not trust the fine gold: and thou doest trust the harde lead. Drawe you two lots, Socrates of Athens, and thou of Samia, see which of you two haue erred, [Page 464] or done well: hee to carry gold from the land to the sea, to bring golde to the land.
I am assured, that the auncient Romanes would say, that it is he: but the couetous of this present Worlde would say, that it is thou. That which in this case I thinke is, that thou in praysing it, dost disprayse thy selfe, and Socrates in dispraysing it, of all is praysed and esteemed.
CHAP. XXXI. The Emperour followeth his matter, & concludeth his Letter, greatly reprouing his friend Mercurius for that hee tooke thought for the losse of his goods. Hee sheweth him the nature of fortune, and describeth the conditions of the couetous man.
THis messenger told mee, that thou art very sad, that thou The conclusion of the Emperours letter, shewing the nature of couetous men. cryest out in the night, and importunest the Godds, wakest thy neighbours; and aboue all, that thou complaynest of Fortune, which hath vsed thee so euill: I am sorry for thy griefe: for griefe is a friend of solitude, enemy of company, a louer of darkenesse, strange in conuersation, and heyre of desperation.
I am sorry thou cryest in the night; for it is a sign of folly, a token of small patience, the point of no wise man, and a great proofe of ignorance: for at the houre when all the worlde is couered with darkenesse, thou alone dost discouer thy hart with exclamations. I am sorry that thou art vexed with the Gods, saying, that they are cruell: Forsomuch as if they haue taken any thing from thee for thy pride, they should restore it againe for thy humility: for as much as we offend the Gods through the offence so much do wee appease them with patience.
O my friend Mercurius, knowest thou not that the patience which the Gods haue in dissembling our faults, is greater, then that which men haue in suffering their chastisements? for wee others vniustly do offend them, and they iustly punish vs.
I am sorry that with thy exclamations and complaints thou slaunderest thy neighbours: for as thou knowest, one neighbour alwayes enuieth another, in especially the poore the rich. And according to my counsell, thou shouldest dissemble thy paine, and take all things in good part: for if perhaps thy riches haue caused thy sorrow, thy patience will moue them to compassion. I am sorry thou complainest of thy fortune: For Fortune (sith she is known of all) doth not suffer her self to be defamed of one: and it is better to thinke with Fortune how thou mayest remedy it, then to thinke with what griefe for to complaine. For there are diuers men which to publish their paine are very carefull, but to seeke remedy, are as negligent.
O poore innocent Mercurius, after so long forgetfulnesse, art thou more aduised to complain of fortune againe, and darest thou defie fortune, with whom all wee haue peace? Wee vnbend our bowes, and thou wilt charge thy launces: thou knowest not what warr meaneth, and yet thou wilt winne the victory: all are deceyued, and wilt thou alone goe safe? what wilt thou more I say vnto thee: since I see thee commit thy selfe vnto Fortune? Doest thou know, that it is shee that beateth downe the high walles, and defendeth the Towneditches? [Page 465] Knowest thou not, that it is shee that peopleth the vnhabitable deserts, and dispeopleth the peopled Cities? Knowest thou not, that it is shee that of enemies maketh friends: and of friendes enemies? Knowest thou not, that it is she that conquereth the Conquerours: Knowest thou not that it is shee that of traytors maketh faithfull, and of faithfull suspitious. Finally, I will thou know, that Fortune is shee which turneth realmes, breaketh armies, abasheth Kings, rayseth Tyrants, giueth life to the dead, and burieth the liuing: doest thou not remember, that the second King of the Lacedemonians had ouer his gates such words:
Certainely these words were hie, and proceeded of a high vnderstanding. And if in this case I may bee beleeued, they ought to be well noted of wise men, and not written before the gates, but imprinted within the hearts. Better knew he Fortune then thou, since hee tooke himselfe for one disinherited, and not as heire: and when hee lost any thing as thou, hee knew that hee receyued it by loane, and not that it was his owne.
Men in this life are not so much deceyued for any thing, as for to thinke that the temporall goods should remaine with them during life. Now that God doth suffer it, now that our wofull fortune doth deserue it, I see no greater mishapps fall vnto any, then vnto them which haue the greatest estates and riches: so that truly wee may boldly say, that hee alone which is shut in the graue, is in safeguard from the vnconstancie of fortune.
Thy messenger hath tolde mee further, that this sommer thou preparedst thy selfe to Rome, and now that it is Winter thou wilt sayle to Alexandria. O thou vnhappy Mercurie, tell me I pray thee, how long it is, sithence thou lost thy sences: for asmuch as when this life doth end, thy auarice beginneth a new: thou foundest two Cities very meete for thy traffique, that is to say, Rome which is the scourge of all vertues, and Alexandria, The vices of Rome and Alexandria layd open. which is the chiefest for all vices. And if thou louest greatly those two Cities, heare, I pray thee, what marchandize are solde therein. In Rome thou shalt loade thy body with vices, and in Alexandria thou shalt swell thy heart with cares.
By the faith of a good man I doe sweare vnto thee, that if perchaunce thou buyest any thing of that which is heere, or sellest ought of that thou bringest from thence: thou shalt haue greater hūger of that thou shalt leaue then contentation of that thou shalt bring. Thou doest not remember that wee are in Winter, and that thou must passe the sea, in the which if the Pirates doe not deceiue mee, the surest tranquility, is a signe of the greatest torment. Thou mightest tell mee that thy shippes should returne without fraught, and therefore they shall sayle more surely. To this I aunswere thee, that thou shalt send them more loden with couetousnes, then they shall returne loden with silkes. O what a good change should it bee, if the auarice of Italy could bee chaunged for the silke of Alexandria. I sweare vnto thee, that in such case thy silke wold fraught a ship & our auarice wold lode a whole nauy [Page 466] That couetousnes is great, which the shame of the World dooth not oppresse: neyther the feare of death doth cause to cease.
And this I say for thee, that sithens in this daungerous time thou durst sayle, eyther wisdome wanteth, or else auarice and couetousnesse surmounteth. To satisfie mee, and to excuse thee with those which speake to me of thee, I cannot tell what to say vnto them, but that God hath forgotten thee, and the seas do know thee. I pray thee, what goest thou to seeke? since thou leauest the gouernement of thy house, and saylest in Alexandrie? Peraduentur thou goest to the gulfe Arpin, where the mariners cast in thy lead?
Take heede Mercury, and consider well what thou doest, for peraduenture where as thou thinkest for to take from the fish the hard lead, thou maiest leaue vnto them thy soft flesh, I haue knowne many in Rome, which for to recouer one parte of that they haue lost, haue lost all that which was left vnto them. O my friende Mercury, note, note; Note well this last word, whereby thou shalt know, what it is that you couetous men doe What it is that couetous men doe long for in this life. gape for in this life? Thou seekest care for thy selfe, enuy for thy neighbours, spurs for strangers, a baite for theeues, troubles for thy body, damnation for thy renowne, vnquietnesse for thy life, annoiance for thy friends, and occasion for thy enemies. Finally, thou serchest maledictions for thy heyres, and long sutes for thy children.
I cannot write any more vnto thee, because the Feuer doth so vehemently vexe mee. I pray thee pray to the Gods of Samia for me: for medicines little profite, if the Gods bee angry with vs.
My wife Faustine saluteth thee, and shee sayeth, that shee is sorry for thy losse: she sendeth thee a rich iewell for Fabilla thy daughter, and I doe send thee a Commission, to the end they shall giue thee a ship in recompence of thy leade.
If thou saylest with it, come not by Rhodes; for we haue taken it from their Pirates. The Gods bee in thy custody, and giue mee and Faustine a good life with ours, and a good name among straungers: I doe not write vnto thee with mine owne hand, for that my sicknesse doth not permit it.
CHAP. XXXII. That Princes and Noble men ought to consider the misery of mans Nature, and that brute beasts are in som points (reason set apart) to bee preferred vnto men.
MIdas the auncient King of Phrygia, was in his gouernment a cruell Tyrant, and contented not himselfe to play the Tirant in his owne proper Countrey, but also maintained Rouers on the Sea, and theeues in the land to robbe straungers,
This King Mydas was well known in the Realmes of the Orient, and in such sort, that a friend of his of Thebes sayde vnto him these words. I let The tyranny of Mydas described. thee to know K. Mydas, that all those of thy owne Realme doe hate thee, and all the other Realmes of Asia doe feare thee: and not for this that thou canst do much, but for the crafts and subtilties which thou vsest: By reason whereof all strangers, and all thine owne haue made a vow to God neuer to laugh during the terme of thy life, nor yet to weepe after [Page 467] thy death.
Plutarch in the booke of Politiques sayeth, that when this King Mydas was borne, the Ants brought corne into his cradell, and into his mouth: and when the nurse wold haue taken it from him, hee shut his mouth, and would not suffer any person to take it from him. They beeing all amazed with this strange sight, demaunded the Oracle what this betokened: who aunswered, That the childe should The answere of the Oracle concerning the life of King Mydas. bee maruellous rich, and withall exceeding couetous: which the Antes did betoken in filling his mouth with corne And afterwards hee woulde not giue them one onely graine, and euen so it chaunced, that King Mydas was exceeding rich, and also very couetous: for hee would neuer giue any thing, but that which by force was taken from him, or by subtiltie robbed.
In the Schooles of Athens at that time nourished a Philosopher called Sylenus, who in letters and purenesse of life was highly renowned. And as King Mydas was knowne of many, to haue great treasures: so this Philosopher Silenus was no lesse noted for despising them.
This Philosopher Silenus trauelling by the borders of Phrygia, was taken by the theeues which robbed the Country, and being brought before King Mydas, the King sayd vnto him: Thou art a Philosopher, and I am a King, thou art my prisoner, & I am thy Lord: I will that immediately thou tell mee, what ransome thou canst giue mee to redeeme thy person: for I let thee to know, that I am not contented any Philosopher should perish in my Country, because you other Philosophers say, that you will willingly renounce the goods of the World, since you cannot haue it.
The Philosopher Silenus answered him, Mee thinketh (King Mydas) that thou canst better execute tyranny then to talke of Philosophy, for we make no account that our bodies bee taken, but that our willes bee at liberty.
Thy demaund is very simple, to demaund ransome of me for my person, Conference betweene Mydas and the Philosopher Silenus. whether thou takest mee for a Philosopher or no. If I bee not a Philosopher, what moueth thee to feare to keepe me in thy Realme: for sooner shouldest thou make mee a Tyrant, then I thee a Phylosopher. If thou [...]akstst mee for a Philosopher, why doest thou demaund money of mee: since thou knowest I am a philosopher, I am a Crafts man, I am a Poet, and also a Musitian: so that the time that thou in heaping vp riches hast consumed, the selfe same time haue I in learning spent. Of a Philosopher to demaund either gold or siluer for ransome of his person, is eyther a word in mockerie, or else an inuention of tyranny: For sithence I was borne in the World, riches neuer came into my hands, nor after them hath my heart lusted. If thou (King Mydas) wouldest giue mee audience, and in the faith of a prince beleeue mee, I would tell thee what is the greatest thing, and next vnto that the second, that the Gods may giue in this life, and it may bee, that it shall bee so pleasant vnto thee to heare, and so profitable for thy life, that thou wilt plucke mee from my enemies, and I may disswade thee from tirannies.
When King Mydas heard these words, hee gaue him licence to say these two things swearing vnto him to heare him with as much patience, as was possible.
The Philosopher Silenus hauing licence to speake freely, taking an instrument in his hands, began to play and sing in this wise:
THese two things the Philosopher proued with so high and naturall reasons, that it was a maruellous matter to see with what vehemency Sylenas the Philosopher sang them, and with what bitternesse Mydas the Tyrant wept.
Without doubt the sentences were maruelous profound, which the Philosopher spake, and great reason had the king to esteeme it so much: For if wee doe prepare our selues to consider whereof wee are, and what we shall be, that is to say, That wee are of earth, and that we shall returne to earth: We would not cease to weepe, nor sigh.
One of the greatest vanities which I finde among the children of vanity is, that they employ themselues to A worthy thing to bee considered of among Christians. consider the influences of the starres the nature of the Planets, the motion of the heauens, and they will not cō sider themselues, of which consideration they should take some profite.
For man giuing his mind to thinke on strange things, commeth to forget his owne proper.
Oh if we would consider the corruption whereof wee are made, the filth whereof wee are engendred, the infinit trauell wherewith we are born, the long tediousnes wherewith we are nourished, the great necessities, and suspitions wherein wee liue, and aboue all, the perill wherein wee dye: I sweare and affirme, that in such consideration wee finde a thousand occasions to wish death, and not one to desire life.
The children of vanity are occupyed many yeares in the Schooles, to learne Rethorike, they exercise themselues in Philosophy, they heare Aristotle, they learne Homere without booke, they study Cicero, they are occupied in Xenophon, they hearken Titus Liuius, they forget not Aulus Gelius, and they know Ouid: yet for all this I say, that we cannot say, that the man knoweth little, which doth know himselfe.
Eschines the Philosopher sayde well, that it is not the least, but the chiefest part of Philosophy to know A worthy saying of Eschynes the Philosopher. man, and wherefore he was made: for if man would deepely consider what man is, he should finde more things in him which would moue him for to humble himselfe, then to stirre him to be proud, If we doe behold it without passion, and if we doe examine it with reason, I know not what there is in man.
O miserable, and fraile nature of man, the which taken by it selfe, is little worth, and compared with an other thing is much lesse: For man seeth in brute beastes many things, which hee doth enuy: and the beasts doe see much more in men, whereon if they had reason, they would haue [Page 469] compassion. The excellencie of the soule layde aside, and the hope which we haue of eternall life, if man doe compare the captiuity of men to the liberty of beasts, with reason we may see, that the beasts doe liue a peaceable life, and that which men doe lead is but a long death. If we prepare our selues to consider, from the time that both man and beast come into this world, vntill such time as they both dye, and in how many thinges the beasts are better then men: with reason we may say, that nature like a pittifull mother hath shewed her selfe to beasts, and that she doth handle vs an vniust stepmother.
Let vs beginne therefore to declare more particularly the originall of the one, and the beginning of the other, and wee shall see how much better the brute beasts are endowed, and how the miserable men are disinherited.
CHAP. XXXIII. The Author followeth his purpose, and excellently compareth the misery of men, with the liberty of beasts.
WE ought deeply to consider, that no wilde nor tame beast is so long before hee come to his shape, as the miserable man is: who with corruption of bloud and vile matter is nine moneths hid in the wombe of his mother. Wee see the Beasts more prouicent in their kinde then man. beast when shee is great (if neede require) doth labour all exercises of husbandrie: so that shee is as ready to labour when she is great as if shee were empty. The contrary hapneth to women, which when they are big with child, are weary with going, trobled to be laid, they ride in Chariots through the market places, they eate little, they brooke not that they haue eaten, they hate that which is profitable, and loue that which doth them harme: Finally, a woman with childe is contented with nothing, and shee fretteth and vexeth with her selfe. Sithence therefore it is tru [...] [...]hat we are noysome and trouble [...]e to our mothers when [...] beare vs in theyr wombes, why doe we not giue them some safe conduct, when they are in deliuering? O miserable state of mā, since the brute beasts are borne without destroying their mothers: but the miserable men before they are born, are troublesome and carefull, and in the time of their birth, are both perillous to themselues and dangerous to their mothers: which seemeth to be very manifest: for the preparation that man maketh when he wil die, the selfe same ought the woman to doe, when shee is ready to bee deliuered: Wee must also consider, that though birdes haue but two feete, they can goe, moue, and runne, immediately when it commeth foorth: but when man is borne, hee cannot goe, nor moue, and much lesse runne. So that a Popingey ought more to bee esteemed which hath no hands, then the man which hath both hands and feet. That which they do to the little babe The miserable estate of man in his infancy. is not but a prognostication of that which he ought to suffer in the progresse of his life: that is to say: That as they are not contented for to put the euill doer in prison, but they lode his hands with yrons, and set his feete in the stockes: so in like manner to the miserable man, when hee entreth into the Cha [...]ter of his life, immediately they binde both his hands and his feete, and lay him in the Cradell. So that the innocent [Page 470] babe is first bound and rolled, before hee bee embraced, or haue sucke of the mother.
We must note also, that the houre wherein the beast is brought foorth: though it know not the Sier which begate it, at the least it knoweth the damme which brought it forth which is apparant for so much as if the mother haue milke, the youngling forthwith doth seeke her teates: and if perchaunce the haue no milke, they goe afterwards to [...] themselues vnder her wings. Of the miserable man it is not so, but the day that hee is borne, he knoweth not the Nurse, that giueth him sucke, neyther the Father which hath begotten him, the mother which hath borne him, nor yet the Mid-wife which hath receyued him: moreouer hee cannot see with his eies, heare with his eares, nor iudge with the taste, and knoweth neyther what it is to touch or smell: so that wee see him, to whome the Seigniory ouer all brute beasts and other things (that are created) partayneth to bee borne the most vnable of all other creatures.
We must consider also, that thogh the beast be neuer so little, yet it can seeke for the teates of his mother to sucke, or to wander in the fieldes to feede, or to scrape the dunghilles to eate, or else it goeth to the fountains and riuers to drinke, and that he learneth not by the discourse of time, or that any other beast hath taught it; but as soone as it is borne, so soone doth it know what thing is necessarie for it. The miserable man is not born with so many present commodities: he cannot eate, drinke, nor goe, make himself ready, aske, nor yet complain and that which is more, hee knoweth not scarsely how to sucke; for the mothers oft times would giue to their children (if they could) the bloud of their heart: and yet they cannot cause them to take the milke of their brests. O great misery of mans nature, forsomuch as the brute beasts, as soone as they are come forth of their mothers wombe can know and seeke: but when Nature of men and beasts compared both together. it is offred vnto man, he cannot know it. We must note also, that to brute beasts nature hath giuen cloathing, wherewith they may keepe themselus from the heate of Sommer, and defend themselues from the colde of Winter: which is manifest, for that to Lambes and sheepe she hath giuen wooll, to birdes feathers, to hogges bristles, to horses hayre, to fishes scales, and to snailes shels.
Finally, I say, there is no beast, which hath neede with his hands to make any garment, nor yet to borrow it of another. Of all this the miserable man is depriued, who is borne all naked, and dyeth all naked, not carrying with him one onely garment: and if in the time of his life he will vse any garment, hee must demaund of the beasts, both leather and wooll: & thereunto he must also put his whole labour and industry.
I would aske Princes and great Lords, if when they are borne, they bring with them any apparrell: and when they dye, if they carry with them any treasure? To this I answere no: but they dye as they are borne, as well the rich as the poore, and the poore as the rich.
And admit that in this life fortune doth make difference betweene vs in estates, yet nature in time of our birth, and death, doth make vs all equall. We must also thinke and consider, that for so much as nature hath prouided the beasts of garments, shee hath hath also taken from them the care of what they ought to eate: for there is no beast that doth eyther plow, sow or labour, but doth content her selfe, and passeth her life eyther with the flyes of the ayre, with the [Page 471] Corne that shee findeth in the highwayes, with the hearbes in the fieldes, with the Ants of the Earth, with the grapes of the vine, or with the fruites which are fallen. Finally (I say) that without care all beasts take their rest, as if the day following they should haue no neede to eate.
Oh, what a great benefite should GOD doe to the miserable man, if he had taken from him the trauell to apparrell himselfe, and the care to search for things to eate. But what shall the poore miserable man doe, that before he eateth, hee must tyll, sow, hee must reape, and thresh the Corne, hee must The cares & troubles that followe man in this life. cleanse it, grinde it, paste it, and bake it: and it cannot bee prouided without care of minde, nor be done without the proper sweate of the browes: And if perchaunce any man did prouide for himselfe with the sweate of others, yet shall hee liue with his owne offences.
Also in other things the silly beasts doe excell vs: For, in the Flowers, in the leaues, in the hearbes, in the straw, in the Oates, in the bread, in the flesh, or in the fruits which they eate, or in the waters which they drinke, they feele no paine, although it be not sweet: nor take no displeasure, thogh theyr meates be not sauorie. Finally, such as Nature hath prouided them, without disguysing, or making themselus better, they are contēted to eate.
Man could loose nothing, if in this point he agreed with beasts: but I am very sorrie that there are many vicious and prowd men, vnto whom nothing wanteth, eyther to apparell, or eate: but they haue too much to maintaine themselues, and herewith not contented, they are such Drunkards, to taste of diuers wines, and such Epicures, to eate of sundry sorts of meates, that oft times they spend more to dresse them, then they did cost the buying.
Now when the Beasts are brought foorth, they haue knowledge, both of that that is profitable, and also of that which is hurtfull for them. For we see this, that the sheep doth fly the wolfe, the catte flieth the dogge, the ratte flieth the catte, and the chicken the kyte: so that the beasts in opening the eyes, doe immediately knowe the friendes, whom they ought to followe, and the Enemies whome they ought to flye. To the miserable man, was vtterly denyed this so great priuiledge. For, in the worlde there hath bin many beastly Man of all other creatures subiect to dangers. men, who haue not onely attayned that, which they ought to know whiles they liued: but also euen as like beasts they passed their dayes in this life, so they were infamed at the time of their death.
Oh miserable creatures that we are: which liue in this wicked world; For, wee know not what is hurtfull for vs, what we ought to eate, from what we ought to abstaine, nor yet whom wee should hate: wee doe not agree with those whome wee ought to loue, wee know not in whome to put our trust, from whom we ought to flie, nor what it is we ought to choose, nor yet what wee ought to forsake.
Finally, I say, that when wee thinke oft times to enter into a sure Hauen, within three steps afterwards, wee fall headlong into the deepe Sea. Wee ought also to consider, that both to wilde and tame beasts, nature hath ginen arms or weaponsto defend themselues, and to assault their enemyes, as it appeareth: For, that to byrds shee hath giuen wings, to the Harts swifte feete, to the Elephants tuskes, to the Serpents scales, to the Eagles tallons, to the Fawkon a beake, to the Lyons teeth, to the Bulles hornes, and to the Beares pawes. Finally I say, that she hath giuen to the Foxes subtiltie, to know how to hyde themselues in the Earth, and to the Fishes little finnes, how to swimme in the water.
[Page 722] Admit that the wretched men haue few enemyes, yet in this they are none otherwise priuiledged then the beasts: for we see (without teares it cannot be told) that the beasts which for the seruice of Man were created: with the selfe same beasts, men are now a dayes troubled and offended. And to the ende it seeme not wee should talke of pleasure, let euery man bethinke with himselfe, what it is that we suffer with the Beasts of this life: For, the Lyons doe feare vs, the Wolues deuoure our sheep, the dogges do byte vs, the Cats scratche vs, the Beare doeth teare vs, the Serpents poyson vs, the Bulls hurt Brute beasts an instrument to punish man. vs with their hornes, the Byrds doe ouerflye vs, the Rats doe trouble vs, the spyders doe annoy vs, and the worste of all is, that a little Flye sucketh our bloud in the day, and the poore Flea doth hynder and let vs from sleeping in the night.
Oh poore and miserable man, who for to sustaine this wretched life, is enforced to begge all things that he needeth of the Beasts. For the beasts do giue him wooll, the beasts doe drawe him water, the beasts doe carrie him from place to place, the beasts doe plough the Lande, and carryeth the corne into their barnes. Finally I say, that if the man receyue any good, hee hath not wherewith to make recompence: and if they doe him any euill, hee hath nought but the tongue to reuenge.
Wee must note also, that though a man loade a beast with strypes, beate her, and driue her by the fowle wayes, though hee take her meate from her, yea, though her younglings dye: yet for none of all these she is sad, or sorrowfull, and much lesse doth weepe: and though she should weep, she can not. For beasts little esteme their life, and much lesse feare death. It is not so of the vnhappy and wretched man, which cānot but bewaile the vnthankfulnesse of theyr friendes, the death of their Children, the wants which they haue of necessaries, the cases of aduersitie which doe succeed them, the false witnes which is brought against them, and a thousand calamityes which doe torment their hearts. Finally I say, that the greatest comforts that men haue in this life, is to make a riuer of water with the teares of their Eyes,
Let vs enquire of Princes and great Lordes, what they can doe when they are borne: whether they can speake as Orators, if they can runne as Postes, if they can gouern themselues as kings if they can fight as men of Warre, if they can labour as labourers, if they can worke as masons, if they knowe to teach as maisters? These litle children would answer, that they are not onely ignorant of all that wee demaund of them, but also that they cannot vnderstand it,
Let vs returne to aske them, what it is that they knowe, since they know nothing of that we haue demaunded them? They will answer, that they can doe no other thing, but weepe at their byrth, and sorrow at theyr death.
Though all those (which saile in this so perillous Sea) doe reioyce and take pleasure, and seeme to sleepe soundly: yet at the last there cometh the winde of aduersitie, which maketh them all know their follies. For, if I be not deceiued, and if I know any thing of this world: those which I haue seene at the time of their birth take ship weeping: I doubt whether they will take Land in the graue laughing?
Oh vnhappy life! (I should say rather death) which the mortalls take for life: wherein afterwards we must spend and consume a great time, to learne all Artes, Sciences, and offices: and yet notwithstanding, that whereof we are ignorant, is much more then that which wee knowe. Wee forget the greatest part, saue only that of [Page 473] weeping, which no man needeth to learne: for wee are borne, and liue weeping, and vntill this present wee haue seene none to die in ioy. Wee must note also that the beasts doe liue and dye, with the inclinations wherwith they were borne: that is to say, that the Wolfe followeth the sheepe: and not the birdes: the hound followeth the hares, and not the rattes: the sparrow flyeth at the birdes, and not at the fish, the spider eateth the flyes, and not the herbes. Finally, I say, that if wee let the beast search his meate quietly, we shall not see him giuen to any other thing.
The contrary of all this hapneth to men, the which though nature hath created feeble, yet Gods intention was not they should bee malitious: but I am sorry, since they cannot auoyd debility, that they turne it into malice. The presumption which they haue to bee good, they turne to pride: and the desire they haue to be innocent, they turne into enuy. The fury which they should take against malice, they turne into anger, and the liberality they ought to haue with the good, they conuert into auarice: The necessity they haue to eate, they turne into gluttonie: and the care they ought to haue of their conscience, they turne into negligence. Finally, I say, that the more strength beasts haue, the more they serue, and the lesse men are worth, so much the more thankes haue they of God: The innocency of the brute beastes Malitious men worse then brure beasts. considered, and the malice of the malitious men marked without comparison, the company of the brute beast is lesse hurtfull, then the conuersation of euill men.
For in the end, if hee bee conuersant with a beast, yee haue not but to beware of her: but if yee bee in company with a man, there is nothing wherin yee ought to trust him: Wee must note also, that it was neyther seene or read, that there was any beast that took care for the graue: but the beasts being dead, some were torne in peeces with Lions, other dismembred by the bears, others gnawn with dogs, other remain in the fields: other are eaten of men, and other by the Ants.
Finally, the entrailes of the one, are the graues of others. It is not so of the miserable man, the which consumeth no small treasure to make his Tombe, which is the most vainest thing that is in this miserable life: for there is no greater vanity nor lightnes in man, then to be esteemed for his goodly and sumptuous sepulture, and little to weigh a good Life. I will sweare, that at this day all the dead doe sweare, that they care little if their bodies be buried in the deepe Seas, or in the golden Tombes, or that the cruell beasts haue eaten thē, or that they remaine in the fieldes without a graue: so that their soules may be among the celestiall Companies. Speaking after the Lawe of a Christian, I durst say, that it profiteth little the body to be among the painted and carued stones, when the miserable soule is burning in the fierie flames of hell. O miserable creatures, We ought not to regard where our dead corpes are enterred. haue not wee sufficient wherewith to seeke in this life, to procure, to trauell, to accomplish, to sigh, and also what to bewayle, without hauing such care & anguish to know where they shall bee buried? Is there any man so vaine, that hee dooth not care that other men should condemne his euil life, so that they praise his rich tombe? To those that are liuing I speake and say of those that are dead, that if a man gaue them leaue to returne into the World, they would bee occupied more to correct their excesse, and offences, then to adiourne and repayre their graues, [Page 474] and tombes though they haue found them fallen downe. I cannot tell what to say more in this case, but to admonish men that it is a great folly to make any great account of the graues.
CHAP. XXXIIII. The Emperour Marcus Aurelius writeth this letter to Domitius a Citizen of Capua to comfort him in his exile, beeing banished for a quarrell betwixt him and another about the running of a horse, very comfortable to those that haue beene in fauour and now fallen in disgrace.
MArke the Romane Emperour, borne at Mount Celio, to thee Domitius of A Letter of the Emperour to a banished man. Capua, wisheth health and consolation from the gods the onely Comforters. The bitter Winter in these partes haue raysed bosterous winds, and the winds haue caused much raine, and the much raine hath caused great moystures: the which engendreth in me sundrie diseases. Among the which the gowt of my hands is one, and the Statica in my legges is another, Eschines the Philosopher sayde, that the liberty of the soule, and the health of the body, cannot bee esteemed too much, and much lesse also bought for money. Tell mee, I pray thee, what can hee doe, or what is hee worth, that hath neyther liberty nor health? The diuine Plato in his bookes of his common wealth, reciteth three things.
The first, that the man which oweth nothing, cannot say that hee is poore: For the day that I owe money to another, another, and not When good orders were obserued in Rome. my selfe is Lord of mine owne. The second, the man which is no seruant nor captaine, hath not reason to say, that any thing makes him vnhappy: For Fortune in nothing sheweth her selfe so cruell, as to take from vs the liberty of this life.
The second, which Plato sayde, is that among all temporall goods there is none more greater, nor greater felicity then the treasure of health: For the man which is persecuted with sicknes, with riches can haue no contentation.
In the time of our olde Fathers, when Rome was well corrected, they did not onely ordaine the things of their Common-wealth: but also they prouided for that which touched the health of euerie person. So that they watched to cure the body, and they were circumspect to destroy vices. In the time of Gneus Patroclus and Iulius Albus, they say that the City of Rome was ordinarily visited with sicknesse: Wherefore first they did forbid, that in the moneth of Iuly and August, there should bee no stewes for Women: For the bloud of the young was corrupted in Veneriall acts.
The third, that no man shoulde bring any fruit from Salon or Campania to sell, during these two moneths in Rome: For the delicate Ladies of Rome for extreame heate, and the poore for their pouerty, did not eate in sommer but fruites: and so the market places were full of fruites, and the houses full of Agues. The thirde, they did defend that no inhabitant should bee so hardy, to walke after the Sunne was set: For the young men, through the lightnesse they vsed in the nights, took diseases which vexed them in the dayes.
The fourth, they did prohibit that no man should bee so hardy to sell openly [Page 475] in Rome, wine of Candie or Spaine. For, in the great heate of the summer, as the Sunne is very hote, so the wine as poyson doth kill young men.
The fifth, that they should purge the priueyes, and make cleane the streetes and Houses: For, of the corruption of the ayre, is engendred the plague among the people.
When Rome was rich, when Rome prospered, all these things were obserued in the common-wealth. But since Catilina the tyraunt did rebell, since The time when good orders were broken in Rome. Scylla and Marius did slaunder it: since Caesar and Pompeyus did playe the Tyrants: since Octauius Augustus, and Marcus Antonius did robbe it: since Caligula and Nero did defame it: they cared little whether they entred into Rome, to sell the wine of Spaine or Candia. For, they feared more the knife of the enemyes, then the heate of the summer. Great reason had the Auncients, to forbid those things in Rome, For to say the trueth, they are not healthfull.
When I was young in Rome, my head did not ake, with talking in the night, nor I did feele my bloud chased with drinking wine: Then I was not troubled to ieatte, in the heate in the summer, nor I was annoyed to go bare-legged in the winter. But nowe that I am olde, there is no heate but offendeth me, nor colde but pearseth mee. For men through much euill rule in their youth, come to grieuous diseases in their age.
Oh if mortall men, after that they be olde, could at any time worke with the Gods, that they should become young againe: I sweare vnto thee, by the faith of a good man, that they would behaue themselues so well, that the world should not againe deceyue them. Since men haue been vicious in their youth, I do not maruell thogh they are full of diseases when they are old. For, how can he loue his health, which hateth vertue? All that which I haue spoken here before is to the end you may knowe and belieue that I am sicke, and that I cannot write vnto thee so long as I would, and as thou desirest: so that hereof it followeth, that I shall bewayle thy paine, and thou shalt be grieued with my gowt. I vnderstod here how at the feast of the God Ianus, through the running of a horse, great strife is raised betweene thee and thy neighbor Patricius: And the brute was such, that they haue confiscated thy goods, battered thy house, banished thy children, and depriued thee from the Senate for tenne yeares.
And further, they banished thee out of Capua for euer, and haue put thy fellow in the prison Mamortine: The reason that Domitius was banished. so that by this little furie, thou hast cause to lamet al the dayes of thy life: Al those which come from thence do tell vs, that thou art so woefull in thy heart, and so chaunged in thy person, that thou doest not forget thy heauie chaunces, nor receiuest consolation of thy faithfull friends.
Thinke not that I speake this, that thou shouldest be offended: for according to the often chaunges which fortune hath shewed in mee, it is long since I knew what sorrow meant: For truly the man which is sorowful, sigheth in the day, watcheth in the night, delyteth not in companie, and with onely care hee resteth. The light he hateth, the darknes he loueth, with his bitter teares hee watereth the Earth, with heauy sighs he pierceth the Heauens, with infinit sorrowes he remembreth that that is past, and foreseeth nothing that which is to come. He is displeased with him that doeth comfort him, and hee taketh rest to expresse his sorrowes.
Finally, the vnfortunate man is contented with nothing, and with himselfe continually hee doeth chafe. Beleeue [Page 476] mee Domitius, that if I haue wel touched the conditions of the sorrowfull man, it is for no other cause, but for that my euill fortune hath made me taste them all.
And hereof it commeth, that I can so well discribe them: for in the end, in things which touch the sorrowes of the spirite, and the troubles of the body, there is great difference from him that hath read them, & frō him that hath felt them. If thou diddest feele it there, as I doe feele it here, it is sufficient to giue thee and thy friendes great dolour, to thinke that for so small a trifle thou shouldst vndoe thee, and al thy parentage: and speaking with the truth, I am very sorry to see thee cast away: but much more it grieueth me, to see thee drow ned in so little water.
When men are noble, and keepe their hearts high, they ought to take their enemies agreeable to their Estates. I meane, that when a Noble man shall aduenture to hazard his person and his goods, he ought to do it for a matter of greate importance: For in the end, more defamed is hee that ouercommeth a Labourer, then he which is ouercome with a knight: O how variable is Fortune, and in how short space doth happen an euil fortune? in that which now I will speake?
I doe condemne my selfe, and accuse thee. I complaine to the Gods, I reclaime the dead, and I call the liuing, to the end they may see, how that before our eyes wee suffer the griefes, and know them not, with the hands wee touch them, and perceyue them not, wee goe ouer them & see them not: they sound in our eares, and wee heare them not: dayly they doe admonish vs, and wee doe not beleeue them.
Finally, we feele the perill, where there is no remedy for our griefe: for as experience doth teach vs, with a little blast of wind, the fruit doth fal, with a little sparke of fire the house is kindled, with a little rocke the shippe is broken, at a little stone the foote doth stuinble, with a litle hooke they take great fish, and with a litle wound dyeth a great person.
For all that I haue spoken, I doe meane that our life is so frayle, and fortune so fickle, that in that parte where wee are surest harnessed, wee are soonest wounded. And Seneca writing to his mother Albina, which was banished from Rome, sayde these words.
Thou Albina art my mother, and I A worthy speech of Seneca to his mother Albina. thy sonne, thou art aged, and I am young: I neuer beleeued in fortune, though shee would promise to bee in peace with mee.
And further hee sayde, All that which is in mee, I count it at the disposition of Fortune, as well of riches, as of prosperity: And I keepe them in such a place, that at any boure in the night when shee listeth, shee may carry them away, and neuer wake me. So that thogh shee carry those out of my Cofers, yet shee should not robbe mee of this in my Entrals, Without doubt such wordes were maruellous pithie, and very decent for such a a wise man.
The Emperour Adrian my Lord, did weare a ring of gold on his finger, which hee sayd was of the good Drusius Germanicus; and the words about the ring in Latine letters sayd thus: Illis est grauis fortuna quibus est repentina: Fortune to them is most cruell, whom suddenly shee assaulteth.
We see oftentimes by experience that in the fystula which is stopped, and not in that place which is open, the Surgeon maketh doubt. In the shallow water, and not in the deepe seas, the Pilot despayreth. The good man of Armes is more afraide of the secret ambushmnt, then in the open [Page 477] battell. I meane, that the valiaunt men ought to beware, not of straungers but of his owne, not of enemies but of friends, not of the cruell warre, but of the fained peace, not of the vniust damage but of the priuy euil.
O how many men wee haue seene, whom the mishaps of fortune could neuer change, and yet afterwards hauing no care she hath made them fall.
I aske now what hope can man haue, which will neuer trust to the prosperity of fortune: since for so light a thing, we haue seen such trouble in Capua, and so great losse of thy person and goods? If wee know fortune, we would not make so great complaint of her.
For speaking the truth, as shee is for all, and would content all, though in the end shee mocke all, she giueth How little wee ought to regard the flatteries of forune. and sheweth vs all her goods, and we others take them for inheritance. That which she lendeth vs, wee take it for perpetuall, that which in iest shee giueth vs, we take it in good earnest: and in the end, as she is the mocker of all, so shee goeth mocking of vs: thinking that shee giueth vs another mans, & she taketh our own proper.
I let thee know, that knowing that of fortune which I know, I feare not the turmoyles of her trauels, neither doth her lightnings or thunders astonish me nor yet will I not esteeme the pleasantnesse of her goodly fayre flatteries. I will not trust her sweete reioysings, neyther wil I make accoūt of her friendships, nor I will ioyne my selfe with her enemies, nor I will take any pleasure of that shee giueth mee, neyther griefe of that shee taketh from mee; nor I will haue respect when she telleth me truth, nor I doe not regard it, though she tell me a lye.
Finally, I would not laugh for that shee asketh me, nor I will weepe for that she sendeth mee. I will now tell thee (my friend Domitius) one thing, and heartily I desire thee for to keepe it in memory: Our life is so doubtfull, and fortune is so sodaine, that when shee threatneth shee striketh not alwayes, neyther doth shee threaten alwayes when shee striketh. The man which presumeth to bee sage, and in all things well prouided goeth not so fast, that at euery steppe hee is in danger of falling, nor so softly, that in long time hee cannot arriue at his iorneyes end: for false fortune gauleth in stead of striking, and in steade of gauling striketh. Therefore since in yeares I am older then thou, and haue more experience of affayres: if thou hast marked that I haue tolde thee, thou wilt remember well that which I will say vnto thee, which is, that that part of thy life is troublesome, which vnto thee seemeth to be most sure.
Wilt thou that by example I tell thee all that, which by words I haue spoken? Behold Hercules of Thebes, who escaped so many dangers both by sea and land, and afterwards came to dye in the armes of a harlot. Agamemnon the great Captaine of the Greekes, in the x. yeares which hee warred against Troy, neuer had any perill, and afterwards in the night, they killed him entring into his owne house.
The inuincible Alexander the Alexaander the great after his so many conquests dyed by poyson. Great, in all the conquests of Asia did not die, and afterwards with a little poyson ended his life in Babylon, Pompeius the Great, dyed not in the conquest of his enemies: and afterwards his friend Ptolomeus slew him. The couragious Iulius Caesar in 52. battels could not bee ouercome, and afterwardes in the Senate, they slewe him with 23. wounds.
Hannibal, the terrible Captaine of Carthage, slewe himselfe in one [Page 747] moment (which the Romanes could not do in 17. yeares) onely because he would not come into the hands of his enemies. Asclipius medius, brother of great Pompeius, in 20. yeeres that he was a Rouer on the seas, neuer was in any perill: afterwards drawing water out of a well, was drowned therein. Ten Captains whom Scipio had chosen in the conquest of Affricke, ieasting on a bridge, fell into the water, and there were drowned. The good How quickly sodaine death ouertaketh many men. Bibulus going triumphing in his Chariot at Rome, a tile fell on his head: so that his vaine glory was the end of his good life.
What wilt thou more I say vnto thee, but that Lucia my sister hauing a needle on her breast, and her childe betweene her armes; the childe laying his hand vpon the needle, and thrust it into her breast, whereby the mother dyed.
Gneus Ruffirius, which was a very wise man, and also my Kinsman, one day combing his white hayres, strake a tooth of the combe into his heade, wherewith hee gaue himselfe a mortall wound; so that in short space after his life had end, but not his doctrine nor memory.
How thinkest thou Domitius: By the immortal Gods I do sweare vnto thee, that as I haue declared to thee this small number, so I could recite thee other infinite. What mishappe is this after so many fortunes? what reproch after such glory? What perill after such surety, what euill lucke after such good successe, what darke night after so cleare a day, what euill entertainement after so great labour: what sentence so cruell after so long processe? O what inconuenience of death after so good beginning of life? Being in their steade, I cannot tell, what I would, but I had rather chuse vnfortunate life and honorable death then an infamous death and honourable life. That man which will bee counted for a good man, and not noted for a brute beast, ought greatly to trauell to liue well, and much more to dye better: for the euill death maketh How carefull men ought to be to liue wel. men doubt that the life hath not bin good, and the good death is the excuse of an euill life.
At the beginning of my Letter, I wrote vnto thee, how that the gowte troubleth mee euill in my hand. I say it were to much to write any longer: and though the Letter bee not of my owne hand; these two dayes the loue that I beare thee, and the griefe that holdeth me, haue striued together. My will desireth to write, and my fingers cannot hold the penne. The remedy hereof is, that since I haue no power to doe what I would as thine: thou oughtest to accept what I can, as mine. I say no more herein, but as they tell mee thou buildest now a house in Rhodes: wherefore I do send thee a thousand sexterces to accomplish the same.
My wife Faustine saluteth thee, who for thy paine is sore grieued: They tell vs thou hast beene hurt, wherefore she sendeth thee a weight of the Balme of Palestine. Heale thy face therewith, to the end the scarres of that wound doe not appeare. If thou findest greene Almonds, & new nuts, Faustine desireth thee that thou wilt send her some. By another man shee sendeth a gowne for thee, and a kirtle for thy wife. I conclude, and doe beseech the immortall Gods to giue thee all that I desire for thee, & and that they giue me all that thou wishest me. Though by the hands of others I write vnto thee, yet with my heart I loue thee.
CHAP. XXXV. That Princes and Noble men ought to bee aduocates for widdowes, Fathers of Orpnans, and helpers of those which are comfortlesse.
MAcrobius in the 3. booke of the Saturnals sayeth, That in the noble Citie of Athens, there was a temple called Misericordia, which the Athenians kept so well watched and locked, that without leaue & licence of the Senate, no man might enter in. There were the Images of pittifull Princes onely, and none entered in there to pray, but pittifull men.
The Athenians abhorred always seuere and cruell deeds, because they would not be noted cruell. And thereof commeth this manner of saying, that the greatest iniurie they could say vnto a wan was, That hee had neuer entred into the Schoole of the Philosophers to learne, nor into the Temple of Misericordia to pray: So that in the one, they noted him for simple, and in the other they acused him for cruell.
The Historiographers say, that the most noble linage that was at that time, was of a King of Athens, the which was exceeding rich and liberall A worthy example of an Atheniā King. in giuing, and aboue all very pittifull in pardoning. Of whom it is written, that after the great Treasures which he had offred in the temples, and the great riches he had distributed to the poore: hee tooke vpon him to bring vp all the Orphans in Athens, and to feede all the widdowes.
O how much more did that statute of the sayde pittifull King shine in that Temple, who nourished the Orphanes: then the Ensignes which are set vp in the Temples of the Captains which had robbed the widows. All the auncient Princes, I say, those that haue beene noble and valiant, & that haue not had the name of Tyrants, though in some thinges they were noted: yet they alwayes haue beene praysed, esteemed, and commended to be mercifull and gentle: so that they recompenced the fiercenesse and cruelty which they shew to their enemies, with the mercy and clemency which they vsed to the Orphans.
Plutarch in his Politiques sayeth, that the Romanes among themselues ordained, that all that which remayned of banquets and feastes, which were made at mariages and triumphs should bee giuen to Widdows and A good custome among the ancient Romanes. orphanes. And this custome was brought to so good an order, that if any rich man would vse his profite of that which remayned, the Orphanes might iustly haue an action of felony against him, as a thing robbed from them.
Aristides the Philosopher in an Oration hee made of the excellency of Rome, sayth: That the Princes of Persia had this custome, neuer to dine nor suppe, but first the Trumpets should blow at their gates, the which were more loude, then harmonius. And it was to this end, that all the Widdowes and Orphanes shoulde come thither: for it was a Law amongst them, that all that which was left at the royall tables, should bee for the poore and indigent persons.
Phalaris the Tirant writing to a friend of his, sayde these wordes: I haue receyued thy briefe Letter, with the rebuke likewise which thou gauest me therein, more bitter then tedious, And [Page 480] admit that for the time it grieued mee, yet after I came to my selfe, I re ceyued thereby great comfort. For in the ende, one louing rebuke of his friēds is more worth then a fayned flattery of his enemie, A rebuke of a friēd more acceptable, then the slattring words of foes.
Amongst the things whereof thou accusest mee, thou sayest that they take mee for agreat tyraunt, because I disobey the Gods, spoyle the Temples, kyll the Priestes, pursue the innocents, robbe the people, and the worst of all, that I doe not suffer mee to be entreated, nor permit that any man be conuersaunt with mee.
To that they say I disobey the Gods, in very deede they say true. For if I did all that the Gods would I should doe I should doe little of that men doe aske mee. For as much as they say I robbe the Temples: there vnto also I graunt: For the immortall Gods doe demaund rather of vs pure hearts, then that wee should buylde their Temples.: For that they say I kill the priests, I confesse also that it is true. For they are so dissolute, that I thinke I doe more seruices to the Gods to put them to death, then they doe in doing their Sacrifices while they liue.
For that they say I robbe the Temples, I also confesse it: For I defending it as I doe from Enemyes, it is but meete and reasonable they finde me and my Seruāts: For that they say I suffer me not to be entreated, it is true: For daily and hourely they aske mee so many vniust and vnreasonable things, that for them and for mee it is better to denye them, then for to graunt them.
For that they say that I am not conuersant with any: I confesse it is true, for euer when they come into my Pallace, it is not so much to doe mee seruice, as to aske some particular thing for their profite. For that they say I am not pittifull among the miserable, and will not heare the Widdowes and Orphanes, in no wise to that I will agree: For I sweare vnto thee, by the immortall Gods, that my gates were neuer shut to Widdowes and Orphanes.
Pulto in the life of the Emperour Claudius sayth, that once a poore widdow came before Claudius the Emperour with weeping eyes, to desire him of iustice. The pittifulnes of the Emperour Claudius.
The good Prince being moued with compassion, did not onely weepe as shee: but with his owne hands dried her teares. And as there was about the Emperour many Noble Romaines, one amongst them, saide thus vnto him: The authority & grauitie of Romaine Princes, to heare their Subiects in iustice sufficeth onely: though they drye not the teares of theyr faces.
This Emperour Claudius aunswered, Good Princes ought not to bee contented, to doe no more then iust ludges: but in doing iustice a man must know that they are pittiful. For oftentimes those which come before Princes, doe returne more contented with the loue they shewe them: then with the Iustice they minister vnto them: And further he saide. For as much as you say: That it is of small authority, & also of lesse grauitie, that a Prince doe weepe with a widdowe, and with his hands wipe her eyes: I aunswere thee, that I desire rather to bee partaker of the griefes with my Subiectes, then to giue them occasion to haue their eyes full of teares.
Certainely these wordes are worthie to bee noted, and no lesse followed. Admit that clemencie in all things deserueth to bee praised: yet much more ought it to be cōmended, when it is executed on women. And if generally in all, much more in those which are voyde of health and comfort. For, Women are quickly troubled, and with greater difficultie comforted.
Plutarche and Quintus Curtius say, that good entertainment which Alexander the great, shewed vnto the wise and children of king Darius (after hee was vtterly vanquished) exalted his clemencie: in such sort, that they gaue [Page 481] rather more glorie to Alexander, for the pittie and honesty which hee vsed with the children, then for the victorie he had of the Father.
And when the vnhappie King Darius knewe the clemencie and pittie, which the good King Alexander vsed towards his wife and his children, hee sent vnto him his Embassadors, to the ende that on his behalfe, they should thanke him for that that is past, and should desire him, that hee would so continue in time to come: Saying, that it might chaunce, that the Gods and Fortune, would mittigate theyr wrath against him.
Alexander aunswered vnto the Embassadours these wordes: Yee shall say in my behalfe to your king Darius, The speech [...]t King Alexander, to king Darius that hee giue mee no thankes, for the good and pittifull worke which I haue shewed or done to his captiue Women, since hee is certaine, I did it not for that hee was my friend: and that I would not cease to doe it, for that he is mine enemie. But I haue done it, for that a gentle Prince is bound to doe in this case.
For, I ought to employe my clemencie vnto Women, which can doe nought but weepe: and my puissant power Princes shall feele, which can doe nought else but wage battell, &c. Truely those wordes were worthie of such a Prince.
Manie haue enuie at the surname of Alexander, which is great. And he is called Alexander the great, because if his heart was great in the enterprises hee tooke vppon him, his courage was much more greater in Citties and Realmes which he gaue.
Manie haue enuie at the renowme which they giue Pompeyus: because they call him great: for, this excellent Romaine, made himselfe conquerour of xxii. Realmes, and in times past hath bin accompanyed with xxv. Kings. Manie haue enuie at the renowme of Scipto the Africane, because hee ouercame and conquered the great and renowmed cittie of Carthage: the which citty in riches was greater then Rome, in Armes and power, it surmounted all Europe. Many haue enuie at Scipio the Asian, who was called Asian because he subdued the prowd Asia: the which vntill his time was not, but as a church-yarde of Romaines.
Many haue great enuie at the immortall name of Charles the great, because being as he was (a little king) he did not only vanquish and triumph ouer many Kings and Realms: but also forsooke the royall Sea of his owne Realme.
I doe not maruell that the prowde Princes haue enuie against the vertuous and valiant Princes: but if I were as they, I would haue more Enuie at the renowm of Anthoninus the Emperour, then of the name and renowme of all the Princes in the worlde.
If other Princes haue attained such prowd names, it hath bin for that they robbed many Countreys, spoyled many Temples, cōmitted much tiranny, dissembled with many Tyrants, pesecuted diuers Innocents, and because they haue takē from diuers good men, not onely their goods, but also theyr liues: For, the world hath such an euill propertie, that to exalte the name of one onely, he putteth downe 500.
Neyther in such enterprises, nor yet with such Titles wanne the Emperour Anthoninus Pius, his good name and renowme.
But, if they call him Authoninus the pittifull, it is because hee knewe not, but to bee the Father of Orphanes: and was not praysed, but because Wherefore the worthie Anthoninus was renowm. d. hee was the onely Aduocate of Widdowes.
Of this most excellent Prince is read, that he himselfe did heare, and iudge the complaints and proces in Rome, of the Orphanes: And for the poore, and [Page 482] Widdowes, the gates of his Pallace were alwayes open: So that the porters which hee kept within his Pallace, were not for to let the Entrie of the poore: but for to let, and keepe backe the rich.
The Hystoriographers, oftentimes say, that this good Prince sayde: That A worthy saying of the Emp: & worthy to be followed the good and vertuous Princes, ought alwayes to haue theyr Hearts open, for the poore, and to remedie the Widdowes, and Father-lesse, and neuer to shutte their Gates against them.
The God Apollo sayeth: that the Prince which will not speedily iudge the causes of the poore, the Gods will neuer permit that hee be well obeyed of the rich.
O high and worthie wordes, that it pleased not the God Apollo, but our Liuing GOD, that they were written in the hearts of Noble Princes. For, nothing can be more vniust or dishonest, then that in the pallaces of Princes and great Lordes, the rich and the fooles should be dispatched, and the Widdowes and Orphanes friendes, should haue no audience?
Oh happie: and not once, but an hundreth times treble happie is hee, that will haue commiseration: remembring the poore afflicted, and oppressed; and open his hande to comforte and relieue them: and doeth not shutte his coffers from helping them: vnto him (I assure and promise) that at the streight day of iudgement, the proces of his life shall be iudged with mercie and pittie.
CHAP. XXXVI. ¶ That the troubles, griefes, and sorrowes of Widdowes are much greater then those of Widowers: wherefore Princes and Noble-men ought to haue more compassion vpon the Women then on men.
IT is great pity to see a Noble and vertuous man sorrowful, alone, and a widower, if especially he liued contented when he was married. For if hee will not marrie, he hath lost his sweete companie: and if he thinke to marrie another, let him be assured hee shall scarcely agree with his seconde wife.
There is much sorow in that house, where the woman that gouerned it is How accessarie it is for a wife to be in her owne house. dead: For immediately the Husband forsaketh himselfe, the childrē do lose their obedience, the seruants become negligent, the hand-maydes become wanton, the Friends are forgotten, the house decayeth, the goods waste, the apparell is lost: And finally, in the widdowers house, there are many to robbe, and few to labour.
Both heauy and lamentable are the thoughtes of the widdower: For, if hee thinketh to marry, it grieueth him to giue his children a stepmother.
If he cannot be marryed, hee feeleth greater paine, seeing him all the day to remaine alone: so that the poore miserable man sigheth for his Wife hee hath lost, and weepeth for her whome he desireth to haue.
Admit that this bee true, there is great difference frō the cares and sorrows of womē, to that of men. A thing very cleare: for so much as the widdower lawfully may go out of his house, hee may go to the fields, he may talke [Page 483] with his Neighbours, hee may be occupyed with his friendes, hee may follow his sutes, and also he may be conuersant, and refresh himselfe in honest places. For, commonly men are not so sorrowfull, in taking the death of their wiues, as the wiues are, in taking the death of their Husbands.
All this is not spoken in the disfauour of wise and sage men, whom we see make small streams, with the teares of their eyes, for the death of their wiues. But for many other vaine and lightmen: which the 9. dayes (of the Funerall past) a man doth see without any shame, to goe throughout their streets, beholding the ladies and Dam sells, which are in the windowes.
Truely the wofull women which are honest, vse not such lightnesse. For, whiles they are widdows, it is not lawfull for them to wander abrode, to go out of their houses, nor to speake with strangers, nor practise with her owne, nor bee conuersaunt with her Neighbours, A custome vsed by widdowes in ancient times. nor plead with their creditors, but agreable to their woefull estate, to hyde and withdraw themselues within their houses, and to lock themselues into their owne Chambers: and they thinke it their dutyes, to water theyr plants with teares, and importune the Heauens with sobs and sighes.
Oh how wofull? O how grieuous? O how sorrowfull is the state of Widdows? For somuch as if a Widdow goe out of her house, they take her for dishonest. If shee will not come out of her house, she loseth her goods: If she laugh a litle, they count her light. If shee laugh not, they count her an hypocrite. If she go to the Church, they note her for a gadder. If she go not to the Church, they say she is vnthankfull to her late husband. If she go ill apparelled, they account her a niggard. If she go cleanly & handsom, they say now she wold haue a new husband. If she doe maintaine herselfe honestly, they note her for presūptuous.
If she keepe company, immediately they suspect her house. Finally I say, that the poore miserable Widdowes shall finde a thousand which iudge their liues, and they haue not one that will remedie their paine.
Much looseth that Woman which loseth her Mother, which hath borne her or her Sisters, which shee loueth, or the friends which she knoweth, or the goods which she hath heaped vp: But I say and affirme, that there is no greater losse in the worlde vnto a woman, then the losse of a good Husband. For in other losses, there is but one onely losse: but in that of the Husband, all are lost together.
After that the wife doth see her louing Husband in the graue, I woulde aske her; What good could remaine with her in her house? Since wee know, that if her husband were good, hee was the Hauen of all her Troubles, What a cō fort a good husband is to a woman the remedie of all her necessities, the inuētor of all her pleasurs, the true loue of her heart, the true lord of her person, and idoll whom she honored.
Finally, hee was the onely faithfull steward of her house, and the good father of all her children and familie. Whether Familie remaineth or not, whether children remaineth or not, in the one, and in the other, trouble and vexation remayneth most assuredly, to the poore Widdow.
If perchaunce shee remaine poore, & haue no goods, let euery man imagine what her life can bee? For the poor, miserable, and vnhappy woman, eyther will aduenture her person to get, or will loose her honestie to demaunde. An honest woman, a Noble and worthy woman, a delicate woman: a sweete woman: a woman of renowme: a woman that ought to haue care to maintaine Children and familie, ought to haue great reason to be full of anguish & sorrow: to see, that [Page 484] if she will maintaine her selfe with the Needle, shee shall not haue sufficiently to finde her bread and water. If she gaine with her bodie, shee looseth her soule;
If shee must demaund of others, shee is ashamed. If shee fulfill the testament of her Husband, she must sell her Gownes. If shee will not pay his debtes, they cause her to bee brought before the iudges. As women naturally are tender, what heart will suffer them to endure such inconueniences? and what Eyes can abstayne to shed infinite teares? If perchaunce goods do remaine to the miserable widdow, she hath no little care to keepe them? She is at great charges and expences, to sustaine and maintaine her selfe, in long suite about her lands, much trouble The care that Worldlings haue. to augment them: and in the end, much sorrowe to depart from them. For all her children, and heyres, doe occupie themselues more to bethinke them, how they might inherit, then in what sort they ought to serue her.
When I came vnto this passage, a great while I kept my penne in suspence, to see whither I ought to teach this matter, or no: (that is to say) that oftentimes the poore Widdowes put openly the demaund of their goods: and the Iudges doe secretly demaund the possession of their person.
So that first, they doe iniurie to her honor, before they do minister iustice to her demaunds.
Though perchaunce shee hath no childe, yet therefore shee remaineth not without any comfort: and for that the parents of her Husband doe spoyle her of her goods. For, in this case their heires oftentimes are so disordered, that for a worne cloake, or a broken shirt, they wil trouble and vexe the poore widdowe.
If perchance the miserable widdow haue children: I say, that in this case shee hath double sorrow: For, if they are young, shee endureth much paine to bring them vp: so that each houre and moment theyr Mothers liue in great sorrows, to bethinke them only of the life & death of their children. Sorrowes that women haue in bringing vp their children.
If perhaps the Children are olde, truely the griefes which remaine vnto them are no lesse. For so much as the greatest part of them are either proud disobedient, malicious, negligent, Adulterers, gluttons, blasphemers, false lyars, dull-headed, wanting witte, or sickly. So that the ioy of the woefull Mothers is, to bewaile the deaths of their well beloued Husbands, and to remedy the discordes of theyr youthfull children.
If the troubles which remaine vnto the careful mothers with their sonnes be great: I say that those which they haue with their Daughters, bee much more. For if the Daughter be quicke of wit, the Mother thinketh that shee shall be vndone, If shee be simple, she thinketh that euery man will deceyue her. If she be faire, shee hath enough to doe to keepe her. If shee be deformed, she cannot marrie her. If she be well mannered, she will not let her go from her. If shee be euill mannered, she cannot endure her. If she be too solitary, she hath not wherewith to remedy her. If she be dissolute, she will not suffer her to bee punished.
Finally, if she put her from her, she feareth she shal be slaundered. If she leaue her in her house, she is afraid she shalbe stollen. What shall the wofull poor widdow doe, seeing herselfe burdened with daughters, and enuironed with sonnes, and neyther of them of sufficient age: that there is any time to remedy them: nor substance to maintaine them? Admit that shee marrie one of her sonnes, and one daughter, I demand therfore if the poor widdow wil leaue her care & anguish? truly I say no: thogh she chuse rich personages, & wel disposed, she cānot scape, but that [Page 485] day that shee replenished her selfe with daughters in law, the same day she chargeth her heart with sorrows, trauels and cares.
O poore widdowes, deceyue not your selues, and doe not imagine that hauing married your sonnes and daughters, from that time forwardes, yee shall liue more ioyfull and contented: For that layde aside, which their Nephewes doe demaund them, and that their sonnes in Law do rob them; when the poore olde woman thinketh to be most surest, the young man shall make a claim to her goods: what daughter in Law is there in this world, who faithfully loueth her stepmother? And what sonne in Law is there in the world, that desireth not to bee heyre to his father in Lawe? Suppose a poore widdow to be fallen sicke, the which hath in her house a sonne in Law, and that a man aske him vpon his oath, which of these two things hee had rather haue: eyther to gouerne his mother in Law, with hope to heale her, or to bury her, with hope to inherite her goods? I sweare, that such would sweare, that he could reioyce more to giue a ducket for the graue, then a penny for a Physition to cure and heale her.
Seneca in an Epistle sayeth, That the Fathers in Law naturally do loue their daughters in Law, and the sons A saying of Seneca. in Law are loued of the mothers in Law. And for the contrary he saieth, that naturally the sonnes in law doe hate their mothers in Law: but I take it not for a generall rule, for there are mothers in Law which deserue to be worshipped, and there are sonnes in Law which are not worthie to be beloued.
Other troubles chaunce dayly to these poore widdowes, which is, that when one of them hath one onely sonne whom she hath in steade of a husband, in stead of a brother, in steade of a sonne, shee shall see him dye: whom sith shee had his life in such great loue, shee cannot though she would, take his death with patience: so that as they bury the deade body of the innocent childe, they burie the liuely heart of the woefull and sadde mother. Then let vs omit the sorrowes which the mothers haue when their children dye, and let vs aske the mothers what they feele when they are sicke? They will aunswere vs, that alwayes, and as oftentimes as their children bee sicke, the death of their husband then is renued, imagining that it will happen so vnto them as it hath done vnto others. And to say the truth, it is no maruell if they doe feare. For, the vine is in greater perill when it is budded, then when the grapes are ripe.
Other troubles oftentimes increase to the poore widdowes, the which amongst others, this is not the least: Troubles and cares incident to Widdowes. (that is to say) the little regard of the Friendes of her Husband, and the vnthankfulnes of those which haue been brought vp with him.: The which, since hee was layde in his graue, neuer ented into the gates of his house, but to demaund recompence of their old seruices, and to renew and beginne new suites.
I would haue declared, (or to say better, briefly touched) the trauells of widdowes, to perswade Princes that they remedie them, and to admonish Iudges to heare them, and to desire all vertuous men to comfort them. For, the Charitable worke of it selfe is so Godly, that hee deserueth more which remedyeth the troubles of the one onely: then I which write their miseries altogether.
CHAP. XXXVII. Of a letter which the Emperour Marcus Aurelius wrote to a Romane Lady, named Lauinia comforting her for the death of her husband.
MArcus of mount Celio, Emperour of Rome, chiefe Consull, Tribune of the people, high Bishop appointed against the Daces, wisheth health and comfort to thee Lauinia, noble and worthy Romane matron, the late wife of the good Claudinus.
According to that thy person deserueth, to that which vnto thy husband I ought, I thinke well that thou wilt suspect that I weigh thee little: for that vnto thy great sorrowes, complaints, and lamentations, are now arriued my negligent consolations. When I remember thy merites which cannot fayle, and imagine that thou wilt remember my good will, wherewith alwayes I haue desired to serue thee: I am assured, that if thy suspition accuse mee, thy vertue and wisdome will defend me: For speaking the truth, though I am the last to comfort thee: yet I was the first to feele thy sorrowes.
As ignorance is the cruell scourge [...]. of vertues, and sputre to all vices: so it chaunceth oft times, that ouer much knowledge putteth wise mē in doubt and slaundereth the innocent: For as much as wee see by experience, the most presumptuous in wisedome, are those which fall into most perilous vices. We find the Latines much better with the ignorance of vices, then the Greekes with the knowledge of vertues. And the reason hereof is, for that of things which we are ignorant, we haue no paine to attaine vnto them, and lesse griefe also to lose them.
My intention to tell thee this, was, because that I knew that which I would not haue knowne, and haue heard that which I would not haue heard, that is to say, that the dayes and troubles of Claudinus thy husband are ended, and now thy sorrowes (Lauinia his wife) doe beginne. It is now a good while that I haue known of the death of the good Claudinus my friend, and thy husband, though I did dissemble it. And by the God Mars I sweare vnto thee, that it was not for that I would not bewaile him, but because I would not discomfort thee: For it were extreame cruelty, that shee which was so comfortlesse, and sorrowfull, for the absence of so long time: should bee killed with my hand, through the knowledge of the death of her so desired husband. It were too vnkind and vnseemely a thing, that shee, of whom I haue receyued so many good works, should receiue of me so euill newes.
The auncients of Carthage held for An ancient Law amōg the Carthagenians. an inuiolable Law, that if the Father did tell the death of his sonne, or the sonne the death of the Father, or the woman the death of her husband, or the husband the death of his wife, or any other semblable, wofull, and lamentable death: that he should bee cast into the prison among them, which were condemned to die. It seemed to those of Carthage, that he which sayde vnto another, that his brother, kinsman or friend was dead, immediately they should kill him, or hee ought to dye, or at the least hee should neuer bee seene in his presence.
If in this case the Law of the [Page 487] Carthaginians was inst: then I ought to be excused, though I haue not told this heauie newes. For as oft as we see him, who hath brought vs any euill tidinges: our sorrowes by his sight, is renewed againe.
Since Claudinus thy Husband dyed, I haue not had one houre of rest, for to passe the time away: for feare least such woefull and sorrowfull newes, should come to thy knowledge. But now that I know that thou knowest it. I feele double paine. For now I feele his death, my care, and thy want of consolation: and the dammage by his death shall followe the Romaine Empire.
Thou hast lost a noble Romaine, valiaunt in bloud, moderate in prosperities, pacient in aduersities, couragious The life & vertues of Claudinus described. in daungers, diligent in affaires, wise in counsels, faithful to his friends, subtill and wary of his Enemyes, a louer of the common-wealth, and very honest in his person: and aboue all, and wherof I haue most enuie is, that hee neuer offended man in his life, nor hurt any with his tongue.
We finde seldome times so many vertues assembled in one man. For saying the truth, if a man doe narrowly examine the vices of manie, which presume to be very vertuous: I sweare that he should finde more to reproue, then to praise. Since thou hast lost so good a Husband, and I so faithfull a Friend: wee are bound, thou to bewaile so great a losse, and I, to sigh for so good a companion. And this I do not desire for Claudine, who now resteth among the Gods: but for vs others, which remaine in daunger of so many euills. For the dead doe rest, as in the sure Hauen: and we others doe faile, as yet in raging Sea.
O thou heauy heart, how doe I see thee, betweene the Bell and the clappers (that is to say) that thou wantest the companie of the good: and art enuironned with the flocke of euill. For the which occasion I doubt often times, whether I may first bewaile the euill which liue: or the good which are dead? because in the ende, the euill men do offend vs more, which we finde: then doth the good men which we loose. It is a great pittie to see the good and vertuous men dye: but I take it to be more sorrow to see the euill and vitious men liue.
As the diuine Plato sayeth, the gods to kill the good which serue them, and to giue long life to the euill which offend them, is a mysterie so profound, that daily wee doe lament it, and yet wee can neuer attayne to the secretes thereof.
Tell me I pray thee Lauinia, knowest thou not now, that the Gods are so mercifull, with whom we go when we dye, and that men are so wicked, with whom we be whiles we liue: that as the euill were borne to dye: so the good dye to liue. For the good man though hee dye, liueth: and the euill man though he liue dyeth,
I sweare vnto thee by the Mother Berecynthia, and so the God Iupiter do preserue mee, that I speake not this, which I will speake fainedly: which is, that considering the rest that the dead haue with the Gods, and seeing the sorrowes and troubles wee haue here with the liuing: I say and affirme once againe, that they haue greater compassion of our life, then wee others haue of their death.
Though the death of men were as the death of beasts, that is to say, that ther were no Furyes nor diuels, which should torment the euill, and that the Gods should not rewarde the good: yet wee ought to be comforted, to see our friends die, if it were for no other, but to see them deliuered, from the thraldome of this world.
The pleasure that the Pilot hath to bee in sure Hauen, the glorie that the [Page 488] captaine hath to see the day of victorie, the rest that the Traueller hath to see his journey ended, the contentation that the workeman hath, to see his work come to perfection, all the same haue the dead, seeing themselues out of this miserable life.
If men were borne alway to liue, it were reason to lament them, when we see them dye: but since it is true that they are borne to dye, I would say, since needes dye wee must, that wee How little this life is to bee respected. ought not to lament those which dye quickly, but those which liue long.
I am assured that Clandine thy Husband, remembring that which in this life hee hath passed and suffered, and seeing the rest that hee hath in the other: though the Gods would make him Emperour of Rome, he would not be one day out of his graue. For returning to the worlde, hee should dye againe, but being with the Gods, hee hopeth to liue perpetually.
Ladie Lauinia, most earnestly I desire thee, so vchemently not to pierce the heauens with thy so heauie sighes, nor yet to wette the earth with thy so bitter teares: since thou knowest that Claudine thy husband is in place where there is no sorrowe, but mirth, where there is no paine, but rest: where hee weepeth not, but laugheth, where hee sigheth not, but singeth, where he hath no sorrowes, but pleasures, where hee feareth not cruell death, but enioyeth perpetuall life. Since therefore this is true, it is but reason the widdow appease her anguish, considering that her husband endureth no paine.
Oftentimes with my selfe I haue thought, what the Wddowes ought to imagine, when they see themselues in such cares and distresse.
And after my count made, I finde that they ought not to thinke of the companie past, nor wofull sollitarines wherein they are presently, and much lesse they ought to thinke on the pleasures of this world: but rather to remember the rest in the world to come For the true widdowe ought to haue her conuersation among the liuing: and her desire to be with the dead.
If till this present thou hadst paine and trouble, to looke for thy Husband to come home: haue thou now ioy, How little we ought to esteeme of this life. that hee looketh for thee in Heauen: wherein I sweare vnto thee, that thou shalt be better vsed of the Gods, then he was here of men. For, in this world wee know not what glorie meaneth, and there they know not what paines are.
Licinius and Posthumius thy vnkles, tolde mee that thou art so sorrowfull, that thou wilt receiue no comfort: but in this case I thinke not that thou bewailest so much for Claudinus: that alone doest thinke thou hast lost him: For since wee did reioyce together in his life, wee are bound to weepe together at his death.
The heauie and sorrowfull hearts, in this worlde feele no greater griefe: then to see others reioyce at their sorrowes. And the contrary heereof is, that the wofull and afflicted heart feeleth no greater ioy, nor rest in extream mishappes of Fortune, then to thinke that others haue sorrow and griefe of their paine.
When I am heauie and comfortles, I greatly ioy to haue my friend by me: and my heart doth tell me, that what I feele, hee feeleth: So that all which my Friend with his eyes doeth bewayle, and all that which of my griefes he feeleth, the more wherewith hee burdeneth himselfe, and the more thereof he dischargeth me.
The Emperour Octauian Augustus, (the Hystories say) on the riuer of Danuby, found a kinde of people which had this straunge custome, that with eyes was neuer seene, nor in bookes at any time neuer read: which was, that two Friendes assembled, and went to [Page 489] the aulters of the Temples, and there one friend confederate with another: so that theyr hearts were marryed, as man and wife are marryed: touching their bodies, swearing, and promising there to the gods, neuer to weepe, nor to take sorrow, for any mishappe that shold come to their persons. So that my friend should come to lament and remedy my troubles, as if they had bin his owne: and I should lament and remedie his, as if they had bin mine.
Oh glorious world, O age most happie, O people of eternall memorie! wherein men are so geentle, & friends so faithfull: that theyr owne trauells they forgot, and the sorrows of strangers they bewayled. O Rome without Rome, O time euill spent, O time to vs others euill employed, O wretches that alwaies are carelesse, now a dayes the stomacke and intrailes, are so seuered from the good, and the hearts so ioyned with the euill: that men forgetting Mē in their kinde, more cruell then beasts. themselus to be men, become more cruell then beasts.
I labour to giue thee life: and thou seekest to procure my death. Thou weepest to see mee laugh, and I laugh, to see thee weepe. I procure that thou doe not mount, and thou seekest that I might fall. Finally, without the profite of anie, wee cast our selues away: and without gaine, we doe reioyce to ende our liues.
By the faith of a good man I sweare vnto thee (Lady Lauinia) that if thy remedy were in my handes, as thy griefe is in my heart: I would not be sorrie for thy sorrowes, neyther thou so tormented for the death of thy husband. But alas, though I miserable man haue the heart to feele thy anguish, yet I want the power to remedie thy sorrowes.
CHAP. XXXVIII. ¶ The Emperor proceedeth in his letter, and perswadeth widdows to put theyr willes to the will of God, and exhorteth them to liue honestly.
SInce thy remedie, & my desire cannot be accomplished, because it is a thing The prosecutiō of the Emperours letter to widowes. vnpossible to receiue, & speake with the dead: and not hauing power, mee thinkes that thou and I should referre it to the Gods: who can giue, much better then wee can aske.
O Ladie Lauinia, I desire thee earnestly, and as a Friend I counsell and admonish thee, and with all my heart I require thee, that thou esteeme that for well done, which the Gods haue done: that thou conforme thy selfe to the will of the Gods, and that thou will nought else, but as the Gods will. For they onely knowe they erre not: wherfore they haue assaulted thy husband with so sudden death, and vnto thee his wife, haue lent so long life.
The Gods beeing as they are, so mighty, and so sage, what is hee that can be iudge of their profound iudgements. The Gods knowe right well those which serue them: and those which offend them: those which loue them, and those which hate them: those that praise them, and those that blaspheme them: those that yeelde them thanks, and those which are vnthankefull.
And I tell thee further, that oftentimes the Gods are serued more with them which are buryed in the graues, then with those which goe weeping through the Temples.
Wilt thou now enter into account with the Gods? thou oughtst to note [Page 490] and consider, that they haue left thee Children to comfort thy selfe, they haue left thee goods, wherewith thou mayest auoyde pouertie, they haue left thee Friends, by whome thou shalt be fauoured, they haue left thee parents, of whom thou art beloued, they haue left thee a good name for to be esteemed: and health, wherewith thou mayest liue.
Finally I say, that small is that which the Gods take from vs, in respect of that they leaue vs. After one sort we ought to behaue our selues with men, and after another wee ought to serue the Gods. For to men sometimes it is requisite, to shew a countenance for to humble them: but to the Gods it is necessary, to lye flat on the grounde with thy stomacke to honour them. The dutie that euery Christian [...]eth to God.
And if the Oracle of Apollo doe not deceyue vs, the Gods are sooner with humilitie, (wherewith wee worship them) appeased: then with presumptuous Sacrifices (which wee offer vnto them) contented.
Since thou art widdow (Lady Lauinia) and art a wise and vertuous Woman: beseech the Gods to preserue thy children, to defend thy renowme, and not to seuer thy Friendes from thee, and that thou scatter not thy goods: to preserue thy person in health, and aboue all, to bee in theyr fauour. Thou canst not winne, nor loose so much in all thy life, as the Gods can giue, or take from thee in one houre.
Would to GOD the widow knew, how little shee winneth among men, and how much she loseth among the Gods, when shee is not pacient in aduersitie: For impatience oftentimes prouoketh the Gods to wrath.
We see it in mans bodie by experience, that there are sundrie diseases, which are not cured with wordes spoken: but with the hearbs therevnto applyed. And in other diseases, the contrary is seene, which are not cured with costly medicines, but with comfortable wordes.
The ende of this comparison tendeth to this effect, that all the afflicted harts should know, that somtimes the the hart is more comforted with one benefite which they doe: then with an hundred words which they speake, And at an other time, the sorrowfull hart is more lightned with one worde of his friendes mouth: then with all the seruice of others in the worlde.
Oh wretch that I am: for, as in the one, and in the other, I am destitute, So in all I do want. For, considering thy greatnes, and weyghing my little knowledge, I see my selfe very vnable: For, that to comfort thee, I want science: and for to helpe thee I want riches. But I cease not to haue great sorrow: if sorrow in payment may be receyued. That which with my person I can doe, neyther with paper or iuke I will requite. For the man which with word only comforteth (in effect being able to remedy) declareth himselfe to haue beene a fayned Friend in times past: and sheweth, that a man ought not to take him for a faithfull friend in time to come.
That which the Romaines with the A custome vsed by the Romains in visiting widdowes. widdowes of Rome haue accustomed to doe, I will not presently doe with rhee (Lady Lauinia) that is to say, that thy Husband being dead, all goe to visite the Widdow, all comfort the widdow: and within a few dayes after, if the wofull widdow haue neede of any smal fauor with the Senate, they withdraw themselues together, as if they had neuer knowne her Husband, nor seene her.
The renowme of Romaine widdowes is very dayntie: For of their honestie or dishonestie, dependeth the good renowme of their person, the honour of their parents, the credite of their childrē, and the memory of the dead. [Page 491] For this therfore, it is healthfull counsell, for wise men to speake few words to widowes, and to doe infinite good works. What auaileth it wofull widowes, to haue their Cofers filled with letters and promises, and their eares stuffed with words, and flatteries? If hitherto thou hast taken mee for thy neighbour, and parent of thy husband, I beseech thee henceforth that thou take mee for a husband in loue, for father in counsell, for brother in seruice, and for aduocate in the Senate. And all this so truly shall be accomplished, that I hope thou wilt say: that which in many I haue lost, in Marcus Aurelius alone I haue found. I know well (as thou doost in like maner) that when the hearts with sorrowes are ouerwhelmed, the spirits are vexed and troubled, the memory is dulled, the flesh doth tremble, the spirit doth change, and reason is withdrawne. And since that presently sorrow and care, in thy house doe remaine: let the gods forsake me, if I abandon thee, let them forget mee, if I remember thee not. But as Claudine remained thine, wholly till the houre of death: so Marcus Aurelius will euermore be thine, during his life. Since I loue thee so entirely, and thou trustest me so faithfully, and that thou with sorrowes art so replenished, and my heart with care so oppressed: let vs admit, that thou Lady Lauinia, hast the aucthority to command me in thy affaires, and I licence to counsell & aduertise thee of things, touching thy honour and person. For oftentimes the widowes haue more neede of a meane remedy, then of a good counsell: I earnestly desire thee to leaue the lamentation A custome vsed among the Romane widowes. of the Romane widowes, that is to know: to shut the gates, to teare their haires, to cut their garments, to goe bare legged, to paint the visage, to eate solitarily, to weepe on the graues, to chide her Chamberlaines, to poure out water with teares, to put Acornes on the graues, and to bite their nailes with the teeth: For these things, and such other semblable lightnesse, behooueth not the grauity of Romane Matrons, either to see them or else to know them. Since there is no extremity but therein vice is annexed: I let thee know (Lady Lauinia) if thou bee ignorant thereof, that the widowes which are so extreame, doe torment themselues, doe trouble their friends, do offend the gods, do forsake theirs, & in the end they profit not the dead: and to the enuious people, they giue occasion to talke. I would thinke and me seemeth, that the women which are Matrons, and widowes, ought to take vpon them such garment, and estate, the day that the gods take life from their husbands: as they entend to weare during their life. What auaileth it that a widow bee one moneth shut vp in her house, and that afterwards within a yeare she is met in euery place of Rome, what auaileth it, An admonition of the Emperour to widowes to leaue off mourning. that for few dayes she hideth her selfe from her parents, and friends, and afterwards shee is found the first at the theaters: what profiteth it, that widowes at the first doe mourne, and goe euill attired, and afterwards they dispute, and complaine of the beauty of the Romane wiues? what forceth it, that widowes for a certaine time doe keepe their gates shut, and afterwards their houses are more frequented then others? What skilleth it, that a man see the widowes weepe much for their husbands, and afterwards they see them laugh more for their pastimes? Finally, I say, that it little auaileth the woman, to seeme to suffer much openly for the death of her husband: if secretly she hath another husband already found? For the vertuous, and honest widow immediatly as she seeth another man aliue, [Page 492] she renueth her sorrow for her husband that is dead.
I will shew thee (Lady Lauinia) a thing that befell in Rome, to the end thou thinke not I talke at pleasure. In the olde time, in Rome there was a noble & worthy Romane Lady, wife of the noble Marcus Marcellus, whose came was Fuluia. And it happened so, that this woman seeing her husband buried in the field of Mars, for the great priese she had, she scratched her face, shee ruffled her haire, shee tore her gowne, and fell downe to the earth in a sound, by the reason whereof two Senatours kept her in their armes, to the end she should torment her selfe no more. To whom Gneus [...]l [...]uius the Censour said. Let Fuluia goe out of your hands, she will this day doe all the penance of widowes Speaking the truth, I know not whether this Romane spake with the Oracle, or that hee were a Diuine: but I [...] am [...]ssured that all hee spake came to paile. For that this Fuluia was the wise of so excellent a Romane, as that good Marcus Marceilus was: I would that so vnlucky a chance had not happened vnto her, which was: that whiles the bones of her husband were a burning, she agreed to be married to another: and which was more, to one of the Senatours that lifted her vp by the armes, she gaue her hand, as a Romane to a Romane, in token of a faithfull marriage. The case was so abhominable, that of all men it was dispraised that were present: and gaue occasion that they neuer credite widowes afterwards. I doe not speake it (Lady Lauinia) for that I thinke thou wilt do so. For by the faith of a good man, I sweare vnto thee, that my heart neither suspected i [...], nor yet the aucthority of so graue a Romane doth demand it: for to thee onely the fault should remaine, and to me the wonder. Heartily I commend vnto thee thy honesty, which to thy selfe thou oughtest, and the care which behooueth so worthy and notable a widow. For if thou art tormented, with the absence of the dead: thou oughtest to comfort thee, with the reputation of the liuing. At this present I will say no more to thee, but that thy renowne among the present be such, and that they speake of thee so in absence: that to the euill, thou giue the bridell to be silent: and to the good, spurres to come and sefue thee. For the widow What punishment ought to be inflicted vpon a widow of light behauiour. of euill renowne, ought to be buried quicke. Other things to write to thee I haue none. Secret matters are dangerous to trust, considering that thy heart is not presently disposed to heare newes. It is reason thou know that I with thy parents and friends haue spoken to the Senate, which haue giuen the office that thy husband had in Constantinople, to thy sonne. And truly thou oughtest no lesse to reioyce of that, which they haue said of thee, then for that they haue giuen him. For they say, though thy husband had neuer beene Citizen of Rome: yet they ought to haue giuen more than this, onely for thy honest behauiour. My wife Faustine saluteth thee, and I will say I neuer saw her weepe for any thing in the world so much, as shee hath wept for thy mishap. For shee felt thy losse, which was very great: and my sorrow, which was not little. I send thee foure thousand sexterces in money, supposing that thou hast wherewith to occupy them, as well for thy necessaries, as to discharge thy debts. For the complaints, demaunds, and processes which they minister to the Romane Matrons are greater, then are the goods that their husbands doe leaue them. The gods which haue giuen rest to thy husband O Claudine, giue also comfort to thee his wife Lauinia. Marcus of mount Celio, with his owne hand.
CHAP. XXXIX. That Princes and Noble men ought to despise the world, for that there is nothing in the world but plaine deceit.
PLato, Aristotle, Pythagoras, Empedocles, Democrates, Seleucus, Epicurus, Diogenes, Thales, and Methrodorus, had among them so great contention to describe the The opinion of sundry Philosophers of the description of the world. world, his beginning and propertie: that in maintaining euery one his opinion, they made greater wars with their pens, then their enemies haue done with their lances. Pythagoras sayde, that that which wee call the World is one thing, and that which wee call the vniuersall is an other: the Philosopher Thales said, that there was no more but one World: and to the contrarie, Methrodorus the Astronomer affirmed, there were infinit worlds: Diogenes sayd, that the world was euerlasting. Seleucus sayd, that it was not true: but that it had an ende: Aristotle seemed to say, that the world was eternall. But Plato sayde clearely, that the world hath had beginning, and shall also haue ending.
Epicurus sayd, that it was round as a ball, Empedocles saide, that it was not as a bowle, but as an egge. Chilo the Philosopher (in the high Mount Olimpus) disputed that the world was as men are: that is to say, that hee had an intellectable and sensible soule.
Socrates in his Schoole sayeth, and in his doctrine wrote that after 37 thousand yeares, all things should returne as they had beene before: That is to say, that he himselfe should bee borne anew, and should be nourished and should reade in Athens. And Dennis the Tytant should returne to play the Tyrant in Syracuse. Iulius Caesar to rule Rome, Hannibal to conquer Italy, and Scipio to make warre against Carthage, Alexander to fight against King Darius, and so foorth in all others past.
In such and other vaine questions and speculstions, the auncient Philosophers consumed many yeares. They in writing many bookes haue troubled their spirites, consumed long time, trauelled many Countryes, and suffered innumerable dangers, and in the end they haue set forth few truthes and many lyes. For the least part of that they knew not, was much greater then all that which they euer knew.
When I tooke my penne in my hand to write the vanity of the world: my intention was not to reproue this material world, the which of the four Elements is compounded: that is to say, of the earth that is cold and drie: of the water that is moist and cold: of the ayre that is hote and moist, of fire that is drie and hote: so that taking the world in this sort, there is no reason why we should complaine and lament of it, since that without him we cannot liue corporally, When the Painter of the world came into the world, it is not to be beleeued, that he reproued the water which bare him, when hee went vpon it: nor the ayre that ceased to blow in the sea, nor the earth that trembled at his death, nor the light which ceased to light, nor the stones which brake in sunder, nor the fish which suffered themselues to bee taken, not the trees which suffered themselues to be drie, nor the monuments that suffered themselues to bee opened: For the creature acknowledged in his Creator omnipotency, and the Creator founded in the creature due obedience. Oftentimes, and of many persons wee heare say, O [Page 494] woefull world, O miserable world, O subtill world, O world vnstable, and vnconstant!
And therefore it is reason wee know what the world is, whereof the world is, from whence this world is, whereof this world is made, and who is lord of this world? since in it all things are vnstable, all things are miserable, all [...]. things deceitfull, & all things are malicious, which cannot be vnderstood of this materiall worlde. For, in the fire, in the aire in the earth, and in the water, in the light, in the Planets, in the stones, and in the Trees, there are no sorrowes, there are no miseryes, there are no deceytes, nor yet any malice.
The world wherein wee are borne, where we liue, and where we die, differeth much from the world whereof we doe complaine: for the world against whom wee fight, suffereth vs not to be in quyet one howre in the day.
To declare therefore my intention, this wicked World is no other thing, but the euill life of the Worldlings, the Earth is the desire, the fire the couetise, the water the inconstancie, the ayre the folly the stones are the pride, the flowers of the Trees the thoughts, the deepe Sea, the heart.
Finally I say, that the Sunne of this world is the prosperity, and the moon is the continuall change. The Prince of this so euill a world is the diuell, of whom IESVS CHRIST laid; The prince of this world shall now be cast out: and this the Redeemer of the World sayeth: For, he called the worldlings and their worldly liues the world: For since they be seruants of sinne, of necessity they must be subiects to the diuell. The pride, the auarice, the enuie, the blasphemie, the pleasures, the leachery, the negligēce, the gluttony, the ire, the malice, the vanity, & the follie. This is the worlde against which wee fight all our life, and there the good are princes of vices, and the vices are Lordes of the vicious.
Let vs compare the trauels which we suffer of the Elements, with those which wee endure of the vices, and wee shall see, that little is the perill wee haue on the sea and the land, in respect of that which encreaseth our euill life. Is not he in more danger that falleth throgh malice into pride, then hee which by chaunce falleth from a high rocke? Is not hee who with enuie is persecuted, in more danger then he that with a stone is wounded? Are not they in more perill that liue among vitious men, then others that liue among brute and cruell beasts. Doe not those which are tormented with the fire of couetousnes, suffer greater danger thē those which liue vnder the mount Ethna.
Finally, I say, that they be in greater perils, which with high imaginations are blinded, thē the trees which with the importunate winds are shaken. And afterwards this world is our cruell enemy, it is a deceitfull friend, it is that which alwayes keepeth vs in trauell, it is that which taketh from vs our rest, it is that that robbeth vs of our treasure, it is that The deceitfulnes of the world layd open. which maketh himselfe to bee feared of the good, and that which is greatly beloued of the euill, It is that which of the goods of other is prodigall, and of his own very miserable.
Hee is the inuentor of all vices, & the scourge of all vertues. It is hee which entertaineth all his in flatterie, and sayre speech.
This is hee which bringeth men to dissention, that robbeth the renowme of those that bee dead, and putteth to sacke the good name of those that bee aliue.
Finally, I say, that this cursed World is hee, which to all ought to render account, and of whom none dare aske account.
[Page 495] Oh vanitie of vanities, where all walke in vanitie, where all thinke vanitie, where all cleaue to vanitie, where all seemeth vanity: and yet this is little to seeme vanitie, but that indeede it is vanitie. For, as false witnesse should he beare, that would say, That in this Worlde there is any thing Assured, Healthfull, and True: as hee that would say, that in Heauen there is any vnconstant, variable, or false thing.
Let therefore vaine Princes see how vaine their thoughts bee: and let vs desire a vaine Prince to tell vs how he hath gouerned with him the vanityes of the world? For, if hee belieue not that which my pen writeth, let him be leeue that which his person proueth.
The words written in the booke of Ecclesiastes are such.
Thus sayeth the sage Salomon, talking of the things of the world: the which as he spake of the world, so had hee proued it in deede, in his owne person.
Crediting, as it is reason to such high doctrine, I cannot tell what my pen can write more in this case: since hee saith, that after he had all proued, Nothing in this worlde but vanitie, experimented, possessed, and tasted, he found that al we procure and haue in this worlde is vanitie.
Oh Noble Princes and great Lords, I beseeche you, and in the Name of IESVS CHRIST, I exhort you, with great discretion, to enter into this deepe Sea: since this order is so disordered, that it bringeth all disorders, and euill customs. For all those which shall trauell by the way, when they shall thinke to goe moste sure in the midst of their iourney, they shal finde themselues to be lost.
None ought to agree with the world, for that hee might liue secure in his house: for day and night to all worldlings hee hath his gates open, making their entrie large and sure. But let vs beware we enter not, and much more that wee loade not our selues with his vices, and be delighted with his pleasures.
For, since we doe waxe worse and that wee are entred therein, though wee doe repent, by no way wee finde the sure comming out, but that first wee must well pay for our lodging.
I maruell not though the Worldlings at euery moment be deceyued: since superficiously they beholde the The vaine hope of the worldly minded man, world with their eyes, and loue it profoundly with their hearts. But if they desired as profoundly to consider it, as they doe vainely followe it, they should see very plaine, that the world did not flatter them with prosperitie, but threaten them with aduersitie.
So that vnder the greatest poynt of the Dye, which is the vi. is hidden the least, which is the Ase,
I would counsell Noble-Princes, and great Lords, that they would not beleeue the world, nor his Flatterers, and much lesse beleeue themselues nor their vaine imaginations. The which for the most part doe thinke that after they haue traueled, & heaped vp great treasure, they shal enioy but their own trauel, without the trouble of any man, or that any man doe go againe them.
Oh how vaine is such thought, and how often doth it change contrarie? The world is of such an euill conditition, that if hee let vs rest, our first sleepe, as well vs, as that which wee haue gotten, immediately in the morning, yea oftentimes, an houre from thence, he awaketh vs with a new care and now he hath prepared for vs some meane, to occupie our selues about some other trouble.
CHAP. XL. ¶ The Authour followeth his intention, and speaketh vehemently against the deceyts of the World.
THe Emperor Traiane said one day to his maister (which was Plutarche, the great philosopher) The speech of the Emp: Traian. Tell mee maister; why there are commonly more euill then good? & why without comparison, there are moe which follow vices, then those which embrace vertue? The great Plutarch aunswered. As our naturall inclination is more giuen to lasciuiousnes and negligence, then to chastity and abstinencie: so the men which doe enforce The answer of Plutarch themselues to follow vertue are fewe, and those which giue slacke the reynes vnto vices are manie. And know thou (if thou knowest it not, moste Noble Prince) that all this euill proceedeth, that men doe followe men, and that they suffer not reason to folow reason
Feeble, and miserable is our nature, but in the ende wee cannot deny, that for our trauells we may finde remedie in it, which seemeth to be true.
For so much if the sunne doth annoy vs, we retire to the shadow. If we are grieued going on foote, wee doe remedy it going on Horsebacke. If the sea be dangerous, we sayle with ships. If the colde doe vexe vs, we approche neere the Fire. If thyrst doth trouble vs, we do quench it with drinke. If the raine doth wet vs, wee goe into houses. If the plague be in one place, wee flie into another. If we haue enemies, we comfort ourselues with our friēds.
Finally I say, that there is no sorrow, nor trauell, but that a man hath found some rest and remedie.
This presupposed to be true (as it is truth indeed) now I aske al the worldlings, if they haue found any remedie against the troubles and deceytes of this world? If I be not deceyued, and if I vnderstand any thing of this world the remedie which the worlde giueth for the troubles, certainly are greater trauells, then the trauels thēselues: so that they are salues, that doe not heale our wounds, but rather burn our flesh.
When the diseases are not very olde rooted, nor daungerous, it profiteth more oftentimes to abide a gentle feauer: then to take a sharpe purgation: I mean, that the world is such a deceiuer, and so double, that he doeth contrary to that he punisheth. That is to say, that if hee doe perswade vs to reuenge an iniurie: it is to the end that in reuenging that one, wee should receiue a thousand inconueniences.
And wheras we thinke it taketh from vs, it increaseth infinite. So that this cursed guyde, maketh vs to belieue it leadeth vs vpon the drye land among our friends: causeth vs to fall into the Ambushments of our enemyes.
Noble Princes & great Lords, in the thoughts they haue, and in the words that they speake, are greatly esteemed: and afterwardes in the workes which they doe, and in the affayres they trauell, are as little regarded.
The contrarie of all this doeth the wicked world, who with all those hee How little we ought to esteeme the flatteries of the world. acompanyeth, in his promises hee is very gentle: and afterwardes in his deedes, hee is very prowd. For speaking the trueth, oft times it costeth vs deere, and wee others doe sell it good cheape.
I say much, in saying that wee sell it good cheap: but in a maner I shold say better, that wee giue it willingly. For fewe are those in number which carrie away wages of the world: and infinite are those which doe serue it, onely for a vaine hope. Oh Noble Princes and great Lordes, I counsell [Page 491] and require you, that you doe not trust the world, neither in word, deed, nor promise, though hee sweare and sweare againe, that he will keepe all he hath promised with you. Suppose that the world doth honor you much, flatter you much, visite you oft, offer you great treasures, and giue you much: yet it is not because hee will giue it you by little and little, but that afterwards he might take it all frō you againe in one day. For it is the olde custome of the world, that those which aboue all men hee hath set before: now at a turne, they are furthest behind. What may wee haue in this The inconstancie of the world. world and in his flatteries, since wee doe know, that one day we shall see our selues depriued thereof? and that which is more, he vseth such craft and subtilty with the one and with the other, that in olde men whome reason would should not be vicious, hee (the more to torment their persons) hath kindled a greater fire in their hearts, so that this malicious world putteth into olde riches, a new couetousnesse: and in the aged, engendreth cruell auarice, and that in that time, when it is out of time. Wee ought greatly to consider, how by the world we are deceiued: but much more we ought to take heede, that we be not by it destroyed. For whereas we thinke to be in open liberty: hee keepeth vs secret in prison. Wee thinke we are whole, and he giueth vs sicknesse. Wee thinke wee haue all things, yet we haue nothing. Wee thinke that for many yeares long shall be our life, when that at euery corner we are assaulted of death. We thinke that it counteth vs for men that bee wise, when hee keepeth vs bound like vnto fooles. Wee thinke that it encreaseth our good, when that in deede it burdeneth our conscience. Finally I say, that by the way where we thinke to continue our renowne, and life: we loose without recouery, both life and fame.
O filthy world, that when thou doest receiue vs, thou dost cast vs off: when thou dost assemble vs, thou dost seperate vs: when thou seemest to reioyce vs, thou makest vs sad: when thou pleasest vs, how thou displeasest vs: when thou exaltest vs, how thou humblest vs: and when thou doest chastise vs, how thou reioycest. Finally I say, that thou hast thy drinkes so impoysoned, that wee are without thee, with thee, and hauing the thiefe within the house, wee goe out of the dores to seeke him. Though: men be diuers in gestures: yet much more are they variable in their appetites. And sith the world hath experience of so many yeares, it hath appetites prepared for all kinde of people. For the presumptuous he procureth honours, to the auaricious he procureth riches, and to those which are gluttons, hee How the world deceiueth sinfull men. presenteth diuers meates. The fleshly he blindeth with women, and the negligent he letteth rest: and the end why he doth all these things, is that after he hath fed them as flesh, he casteth vpon them the nets of all vices.
Note Princes, and great Lords, note noble men, though a Prince doe see himselfe Lord of all the world, hee ought to thinke that of no value is the seignory, vnlesse he himselfe be vertuous. For little it profiteth that he be Lord of the vicious: which is himselfe the seruant of all vices.
Many say that the world doth beguile them: and other say that they haue no power against the world. To whom we may answere. That if at the first temptations wee would haue resisted the world: it is vnpossible that so oftentimes it durst assault vs. For of our small resistance, commeth his so great audacity. I cannot tell if I shall dissemble, I shall hold my peace, or whether I shall say that I would say, [Page 500] since it greeueth my heart so much, onely to thinke of it. For I feele my eyes readier to lament it, then my fingers able to write it, It is so, that euery man suffereth himselfe to be gouerned so of the world, as if God were not in heauen, and he had not promised to bee a good Christian here in The vaine opinion of the worldly minded mē, earth. For all that he will, wee will, that which he followeth, wee follow, and that which hee chooseth, wee choose. And that which is greatest sorrow of all, if wee doe refraine our selues from aduersity, it is not for that of our owne nature wee would cease from it: but because the world will not command vs to doe it.
Little is that which I haue spoken, in respect of that I will speake: which is that the world hath made vs now so ready to his law, that from one houre to another, it changeth the whole state of this life. So that to day he maketh vs hate that, which yesterday we loued, he maketh vs complaine of that, which we commended: hee maketh vs to bee ofended now with that, which before we did desire: hee maketh vs to haue mortall enemies of those, which before were our speciall friends.
Finally I say, that the world maketh vs to loue that in our life, which afterwards wee bewaile at the houre of death. If the world did giue vnto his minions, any perfect and accomplished thing: it were somewhat that for a time a man should remaine in the seruice of his house: But since that in the world all things are granted not during life, but as lending, which ought to bee rendred the day following: I know not what man is so very a foole, that in the world doth hope for any perpetuall thing? For all that he giueth, hee giueth with such condition, that they shall render it vnto him when hee shall demaund it: and not at the discretion of him that doth possesse it. Peraduenture the world can giue vs perpetuall life? I say certainly no. For in the sweetest time of all our life, then sodainly we are assaulted of cruell death. Peraduenture How suddē ly Death assaulteth vs, the world can giue vs temporal goods in aboundance? I say certainly no. For no man at any time had so much riches: but that which hee wanted was more, then that hee possessed. Peraduenture the world can giue vs perpetuall ioy? I say certainly no. For exempting those dayes which wee haue to lament, and also the houres which we haue to sight: there remaineth not for vs one moment to laugh. Peraduenture he can giue vs perpetuall health? I say certainly no. For to men of long life, without comparison the diseases are more which they suffer: then the yeares are which they liue. Peraduenture the world can giue vs perpetuall rest? I say certainly no. For if the dayes be fewe, wherein we see the elements without cloudes: fewer are the houres, which wee feele our hearts without cares.
Therefore since that in this miserable world there is no health perpetuall, nor life perpetuall, nor riches perpetuall, nor ioy perpetuall. I would knowe what it is that the worldlings would of the world, since they know that it hath no good thing to giue them, but onely by lending, or by vsurie? If it be vsurie, there is no gaine of money: but rather returne, with restitution of vices.
O children of vanity, O maisters of lightnesse, since it is so, that ye now determine to followe and serue the world: looke not of the world to haue any thing, but things of the world. In it is nothing but pride, enuie, leacherie, hate, ire, blasphemy, auarice, and folly. And if ye aske if he haue in his gouernance any vertuous thing, hee will answere you, that hee doth neuer sell such merchandize in his shop. [Page 501] Let no man thinke that the world can giue vs that, which it hath nor for it selfe. And if wee will chaunge any thing with it, and it with vs: hee is so subtill to sell, and so curious to buye, that that which hee taketh shall be of great measure, and that which hee selleth vs, shal want much weight.
CHAP. XLI. ¶ Of a Letter which the Emperour Marcus Aurelius wrote vnto his friend Torquatus, to comfort him in his banishment, which is notable, for all men to learne the vanities of this World.
MArcus Emperour of Rome, companion in the Empire, with his Brother Annius Verus, to thee Torquatus, of the citie of comfor [...] [...] if the Emp: Marc: Aur. Gaietta, wisheth all health to thy person, and strength against thy euill Fortunes. I beeing in the Temple of the Vestall virgines, about three moneth since, I receyued a Letter of thine: the which was in such sorte, that neyther mine eyes for that time could make an ende to read it, or since I haue had the heart to answer it. For in the incōnueniences of our friends, if we haue no facultie nor might for to remedie it, at the least we are bound to bewayle it. Thy sorrow maketh me so heauie, thy paine doeth trouble mee so much, I am so carefull of thy anguish, so tormented with thy griefe, that if the Gods had giuen power to wofull men to imparte theyr sorrowes, as they haue giuen to rich men to imparte their goods: by the faith I owe to God, I sweare, that as I am the greatest of thy Friendes, I would bee hee which should take the most parte of thy griefes.
I know right well, and as well as he that hath proued it, that asmuch difference as there is betweene the ba [...]ke and the tree, the marow and the bone, the corne and the straw, the gold, and the drosse, the trueth and the dreams: so much is there to heare the Trauells of another, and to taste his own. Notwithstanding, comfort thy selfe, my friend Torquatus: for where the friends bee true, the goods and the euills are common betwixt them.
Oftentimes with my selfe I haue maruelled, to what ende or intention, the immortall Gods haue giuen Trauell, and torments to men, since it is in their powers to make vs liue without them. I see no other thing, why the mishaps ought paciently to bee suffered: but because in those, wee know who are our faithfull friendes. In battell the valiant man is knowne, in tempestuous weather the Pylot is known, by the Touch-stone the gold is tryed, How a true friend is to be knowne, and in aduersitie, the true Friende is knowne.
For my friende doth not enough to make me merrie, vnles also he doth take part of my sorrow. I haue heard say here, and now by thy letter I haue seene, how they haue banished thee from Rome, and confiscated thy goods, and that for pure sorow thou art sicke in thy bed: wherof I maruel not that thou art sicke, but to be as thou art aliue. For saying to thee the Trueth, where the heart is sore wounded, in shorte space it hath accustomed to yeelde vp vnto the bodie. I see well, that thou complaynest, and thou hast reason to complain, to see thy selfe banished from Rome, and thy goods confiscate, to see thy selfe out of thy countrey, without any parentage: yet therfore thy sorrowes ought not to be so extreame, that thou shouldst put thy life in hazzard. For hee alone ought to haue licence, and also is bounde to hate life, which doeth not remember [Page 502] that hee hath serued the Gods, nor hath done any profite to men.
If the affayres of the Empire did not occupie me, and the Emperiall Maiestie did not withdraw me: I would immediately The loue of Marcus Aurelius to his friend, haue come to comforte thy person, where thou shouldest haue seen by experience, with what griefe I feele thy troubles. And therefore, if thou takest mee for thy friende, thou oughtest to belieue of mee, that which in this case I would of thee (which is) that as thou hast been the most entier Friend which I had in Rome: So is this the thing that most I haue felt in this life.
Tell me my friend Torquatus, what is it thou sufferest there, that I do not lament here? It may be that sometime thou laughest, but I alwayes weepe: sometimes thou comfortest thy selfe, but I am alwayes sad. It may be that thou lightnest thy paine: but I am in sighing. It may bee that sometimes thou castest from thee sorrow: but for mee I cannot receyue consolation. It may bee that thou hopest remedie of long life: but for mee I finde no remedie more healthfull, then present death. Finally (I say) that here I feele all that thou feelest there: and furthermore, I suffer all that, which as a friend I ought to suffer here: so that both our paynes are made one moste cruell sorrowe, wherewith my woefull life is tormented. I would greatly desire to come and see thee, and to help to disburden thee of this charge.
And since it is vnpossible that thou shalt finde some comfortable wordes: For, thou knowest, that if the true Friendes cannot doe that which they ought: yet they doe accomplish it, in doing that they can.
If my memory deceyue me not, it is well two and thirty yeares since we two haue known together in Rome, during the which, Fortune hath made here betweene vs diuers alterations, in the which time I neuer saw thee one day contented. For if thou were sad, nothing did make thee merrie, but wert as a man without taste:: and if thou were ioyfull, thou esteemedst it little, as a man being troubled. Therefore if the trueth be so (as indeed it is) that in trauells thou were loden with sorrows, and in prosperities thou wert euill content, so that of nothing in the world thou takest any taste: why is it (my friend Torquatus) that now again thou art in despaire, as if thou camest new into this world? Thou didst reioyce thy selfe xxxii. yeares, with the Triumphes and prosperitie of Rome: and thou complainest onely of three moneths, that Fortune hath been contrary vnto thee.
O Torquatus, Torquatus, dost thou The considerations that euery man ought to haue, knowe that the wise men (in whome wisedome raigneth) haue more feare of two vnhappie dayes in this life: then of two hundreth of prosperous Fortune?
Oh how many haue I seene go out of their prosperities, with the charges of another man, and theyr owne proper vices: so that the vaine-glory and the fayling prosperities endured fewe dayes: but the griefe of that they haue lost, and the enmities which they haue recouered, endure many yeares.
The contrary of all this commeth to vnfortunate men, which escape out of their tribulations, spoyled of vices, enuironed with vertues, persecutors of euills, zealous of good, friends of all, and enemyes of none: contented with theirs, and not desiring others. Finally, they are escaped wisely from the snare, and haue gathered the Rose, not hurting themselues with the prickes.
What wilt thou that I say more vnto thee, but that the most Fortunate ate vanquished in peace: and the vnfortunate are conquerors in warre.
One of the Sentences which moste [Page 503] haue contented me, of those which the Auncients haue spoken, is this, of the diuine Plato, That those which are in prosperity haue no lesse need of good counsell, then the vnhappy haue of remedie; For no lesse doe they trauell, which goe alwayes in the plaine way, then those A worthy saying of Plato. which mount on the sharpe craggy mountaine.
According to that I haue gathered of thy letter, mee seemeth that when we hope most rest, greatest trauel hath succeeded to thee. And hereof I doe not maruell, nor thou oughtest not be offended: for as experience teacheth vs, when the trees haue the blossoms, then they are most subiect to the frost: and when glasses are drawne out of the furnace they breake. The Captaines hauing won the victorie, doe die. When they will put the key in the dore, the house doth fall. The Pirates perish within the kenning of land,
By that I haue spoken, I meane, that when wee thinke to haue made peace with fortune, then shee hath a new demaund ready forged. All new changes of Fortune, causeth all wayes new paine to the person: but often times it is cause of more great fortresse: for the tree beareth not so much fruit where it first grew, as there where againe it is planted: and the sauours are more odoriferous, when they are most chafed. I meane that men of high thoughts, the more they are wrapped in the frownings of Fortune, the more valiant and stout they shew themselues. The man vtterly is foolish, or hath great want of vnderstanding, who hopeth at any time to haue perfect rest, imagining that the World will giue no assault vpon him: but that the time shall come, wherein hee shall bee without care and feare.
This miserable life is of such condition, that dayly our yeares doe diminish, and our troubles encrease. O Torquatus, by the immortall Gods I doe desire thee, and in the faith of a friend I doe require thee, thou being borne in the world, nourishing thy selfe in the world, liuing in the world being conuersant in the world, being a child of the world, and following the world, what didst thou hope of the world but things of the world? Peraduenture, thou alone wilt eate the flesh without bones, giue battell without perill, trauell without paine, and sayle by the sea without daunger. I meane, that [...]s vnpossible for mortall men to liue in the world, vnlesse No man in safety to long as hee liueth in this world. they will become subiect to the sorrowes of the world. The world hath alwayes been the world, and now the world shall be after vs, and as a world shall handle the worldlings.
The wise men, and those which of their estates are carefull, are not contented to see, nor superficialy to know the things: but rather waigh them profoundly. I say this, because if thou knewest thy debelity, and knewest fortune, and her chaunge, if thou knewest the men, and their malices, if thou knewest the world and his flatteries, thou shouldest winne no little honour, where as otherwise thou mayes chance to get infamie. Wee are now come to so great folly, that wee will not serue the Gods which haue created vs, nor abstaine from the World which persecuteth vs: And the best is, that hee not willing vs (but rather reiecting vs) we say, that of our owne willes wee will loue and serue him: and yet knowing that those which longest haue serued the world, do goe out of his house, most bitterly lamenting. Oftentimes I stay for to thinke, that according to the multitude of men which follow the world (beeing alwayes euill handled of the World) if the World did pray them as hee doth annoye them, if [Page 504] hee did comfort them, as he doth torment them, if he kept them, as he banisheth them, if he exalted them, as he abuseth them, of he receyued them, as he expelleth them, if he did continue them as he consumeth them: I thinke that the Gods should not be honoured in heauen, nor the temples worshipped in the earth.
O Torquatus my friend, that which I will now say of thee, thou mayest say of mee: that is to say, how much wee put our confidence in fortune, how lewdly wee passe our dayes, and how much wee are [...]inded in the world: yet for all that we credite his word as much, as though hee had neuer mocked any.
CHAP. XLII. Marcus Aurelius goeth on with his Letter, and by strong and high reasons perswadeth all that line in the world, not to trust the world, nor any thing therein.
TEl l mee I pray thee Torquatus, what wilt thou hear more? What wilt thou see more? and The Emperour perswedeth mē to trust in the world what wilt thou know more? to know the world? seeing how vntill this present thou hast beene handled of the world, thou demaundest rest, and he hath giuen thee trouble: thou demaundest honour, and he hath giuen thee infamie. Thou demaundest riches, and he hath giuen thee pouerty: thou demaundest ioy, and hee hath giuen thee sorrow. Thou demaundest to be his, and hee hath giuen thee his hand. Thou demandest life, and hee hath giuen thee death: Therefore if it be true, that the world hath handled thee in this wise, why doest thou weepe to returne againe to his wicked house? O filthy worlde, how farre art thou from iust: and how farre ought they to bee from thee, which desire to be iust: For naturally thou art a friend of nouelties, and enemie of vertues. One of the Lessons which the world readeth to his children is this: that to be true worldlings they should not bee very true: The which experience plainely sheweth vs, for the man which medleth much with the world, leaueth alwayes suspition of him that hee is not true: The World is an Ambassadour of the euill, a scourge of the good, chiefest of vices, a tyrant of the vertuous, What the world is compared vnto. a breaker of peace, a friend of warre, a sweete water of vices, the gawle of the vertuous, a defendor of lyes, an inuentor of nouelties, a trauellour of the ignorant, a hammer for the malitious, a table of gluttons, and a furnace of concupiscence. Finally, it is the perill of Charibdes, where the harts doe perish: and the danger of Scylla, where the thoughts doe waste.
Presuppose that these he the conditions of the world. The truth is, that if there bee any worldling who complayneth to be euill content with the world, shall he therefore chaunge his stile? Truly no and the reason is, that if perchaunce one worldling should goe out the house of the world, there are x. thousand vanityes at his Gate:
I know not what wise man will liue in the World, with such conditions, since the vices wherewith wee doe reioyce our selues are very fewe, in respect of the torments which we suffer. I say not that we doe heare it by heare-say, and reade them in bookes: but wee see with our owne eyes, the one to consume and wast the goods: others by misfortune to fall and lose their credite, others to fall and loose [Page 505] their honour, and others to loose their life: and all these miseryes seene, yet neuertheles, euery man thinketh to be free by priuiledge, where there is none priuiledged.
Oh my deare Friend Torquatus, of one thing I assure thee, which is: that the men which are born of women are so euill a generation, and so cruell is the world wherein we liue, and Fortune so empoysoned, with whome wee frequent: that we cannot escape without beeing spurned with his feete, bitten with his Teeth, torne with his nayles, or empoysoned with his venome.
Peraduenture thou mayest say vnto mee that thou hast seene some in Rome which haue liued longtime, Fortune neuer beeing against him. To this I answere thee, that thou oughtst rather to haue pittie vppon him, then enuie: For it is not for his profite, but for his great hinderance. For the World is How malicious & vnconstāt the world is, so malicious, that when it seemeth to bee most our Friende, then it worketh vs most displeasure.
The healthfull men dye rather of a short disease in fewe dayes, then the drye and feeble men doe, with a disease of many yeares. By this comparison I meane, that since man cannot escape, nor liue without trauell: it is much better, that by little and little he tasteth them, then they enter al at one time into his house.
Oh how much ought the man to be hated of the immortall Gods: who knoweth not what trauell meaneth in this world? For hee onely ought to feare Fortune, who knoweth not Fortunes force.
Since the Gods would permit, and thy mishap hath beene such, that thou hast found more daunger, where thou thoughtst most surety, as a man euillfortuned: it is reason that wee applye vnto thee some newe ware, to the end thou lose not thy good renowm, since thou hast lost thy euill goods.
Tell mee I pray thee (Torquatus) why doest thou complayne as a man sicke? why cryest thou as a foole? why sighest thou as a man in despaire? and why doest thou weepe as a Childe? Thou art come out of the way: And thou complainst to haue lost thy way. Thou sailest by the broyling Seas: and thou wonderest that the Waues doe assault thee. Thou hast ascended the steepe and craggie Mountaines: and thou complainest that thou art weary. Thou walkest by the thornes, and wilt not that thy gowne be torne.
Didst thou thinke on the top of the high Mountaine to liue most sure? By that I haue spoken, I will aske what diligent seruice thou hast done to the world, that thou wouldst the Gods of heauen should recompence thee?
Wouldest thou of Fortune a safe conduct, shee being (as shee is) enemie of manie, Nature being not able to giue it, the which is mother of all?
Oh my Friend Torquatus, that which that pittifull Nature cannot promise Fortune & Nature two contrary enemyes. thee, didst thou thinke that Fortune, (which is the iust step-mother) should giue?
It is vnpossible that the Sea should always promise vs surety, and the heauens clearenesse, the Summer deawes, and the Winter, Frosts. Marke well, my Friende Torquatus, that all naturall things are subiect to chaunge euery yeare: but all the Worldlings ought to endure, to Eclipse euery moment.
Since the naturall Gods cannot alwayes be in one mans custodie, being necessarie, it is iust that the goods of Fortune perish, since they are superfluous. Vniust should the Gods bee, if that which is to the damage of so manie, they had made perpetuall: and that which is to the profite of all, they had made mortall. I will no more reduce to thy memorie, the prosperities which thou hast had in times past: before [Page 506] that we treate how Fortune handleth thee at this present.
The deceytfull Fortune, when at thy gate she sold her Marchandise, knowing that shee soldevnto thee, and thou being ignorant of that thou boughtst: she gaue thee fruitfull ground, and afterwards made it vnto thee painefull. Shee hath giuen thee sower for sweet, and the sweete shee hath returned to the sower. Shee hath giuen thee the euill for the good: and where that thou hast solde her good, shee returneth vnto thee euill. Finally shee hath beguyled thee in the iust price, thou not supposing that thou hadst receyued any damage. Wee can doe no lesse in this case but to haue compassion vpon thee: yet though they condemne malicious Fortune for selling, they will note thee simple in buying. For in the shoppe of Fortune, all Marchandize are suspicious.
Oh vnhapie that we are, I say those which meddle with the Word: for in his Market they see nought but lyes, and wee doe not trust but in the ouerthrowes of our renowme: which are not paide, but with the cost of our life. And the factours of that Fayre, giue vs nothing by weyght or measure: for they are a sort of vacabondes: And the worst of all is, knowing that they ought to lose with Fortune, all seeke to buye at her shoppe.
Giue thy selfe to the Worlde, loue the world much, serue the world well, followe the world well, and feele the world well: For, in the ende of thy Doe what thou canst at last the world will deceyue thee, iourney, the world requireth thee to be like vnto his inconstancie.
I would enter into count, not with the Worlde, which in the ende is the world: but with the worldlings which are in loue with the world. For, in thè ende, eyther it is good or euill. If the world be good for them, whereof doe they complaine? If he be euill, why do they follow him? They cannot (though they would) denie one of the two errours, wherein the worldlings fall: that is to say, that they serue an euill maister, or that they murmure of a good lord.
Now tell mee, my Friend Torquatus, what didst thou hope, since thou madest so long time a countenaunce to the world? Two and thyrtie yeares thou hast serued the worlde, and hast been in his fauour: wherefore it were now high time, that between thee and him were some discord. For between the Grand-fathers and the Nephews, between the Father and the children, between the vnkles and the nephews, daylie we see great strifes: And didst thou thinke, that betweene thee and Fortune, perpetuall peace should be?
Shee gaue not to Belus, king of the Assyrians, but lx. yeares of prosperity. To the queene Semiramis, sixe onely. To Label King of the Lacedemonians, Examples of the vncō stancy of the world. fiue: To the K of the Chaldeans, fowre.
To the great Alexander of Macedony, fowre. To the great Amilcar, King of Carthage, two. To our Iulius Caesar, one: and to infinite others, shee gaue not one.
If the world were pacient, he should be no world, if the world were constant, hee should bee no world, if the world were sober, hee should bee no world, if the world were true, he shold be no world, if the world were corrigible, he should be no world. Finally I say, that for nought else the world is world, but because there is nothing in him worthy to be beloued: and many things in it deserueth to bee reproued. If thou wert wise, and knewst any thing of the world, in all the discourse of those xxxii. yeares, thou hadst not eaten without care, nor hadst gone without guyles, and hadst not spoken without suspicion, nor slept without assault, nor trusted any friende.
For the Warre, men doe bethinke them all wayes wherein their enemies [Page 507] doe beguile them, wherein they themselues may fayle, and wherein fortune may let them. I know not if it be that the world of himselfe bee happy, or that the Worldlings are fooles: For if one stranger, one neighbour, or our proper brother doth enuy vs, we will neuer (thogh he do require vs) pardon him, and wee cease not to follow the world, though wee know he persecuteth vs. So that wee draw our swords against flies: and will kil the Elephants with needles. There is no greater ill in the world, then to thinke all things in the world are in extremitie: for if wee be abased, we sigh alwais to mount, & if we be high, we weepe alwayes for feare of falling. Such ouerthrowes hath the world, and his snares are so secret, that we are no sooner shipped but wee see both our hands and feete entangled with vices: by the which our libertie is brought into such extreme and cruell captiuitie, that wee bewayle our mishaps with roaring voyce as brute beasts, but as men wee dare not once vtter them. I know not whereof this commeth, for some I see which willingly fall, and other I see which would recouer themselues. I see diuers that would bee remedyed, and I see all do complaine, but in the end I see no man that doth amend.
These things I haue written vnto thee, for no other thing, but because from henceforth thou shouldst liue more circumspectly: for as thou know est, I say nothing, whereof I haue not long experience.
The colt which thou hast sent mee is prooued verie good, especially for that he leapeth very well, and for the careere hee is exceeding ready, and hath a comely grace. I send thee two thousand sexterces, wherewith thou mayst releeue thy necessities.
Finding opportunitie, as touching thy banishment I will speake to the Senate in thy behalfe. I say no more to thee, but that the consolations of the gods, and the loue of the gods be with thee Torquatus.
The malice of the euill, and the ire of the furies, bee absent from mee Marcus. My wife Faustine saluteth thee and in her behalfe, and mine, recommend vs to thy faire daughter in law Solophonia, and thy daughter Amilda. Marke of Mount Celio, writeth to thee Torquate, with his owne hand.
CHAP. XLIII. Princes and Nobles ought not to beare with Iuglers, Iesters, Parasites, and common Players, nor with any such kinde of raskals, and loyterers. And of the lawes which the Romaines made in this behalfe.
LIcurgus Promotheus, Solon, and Numa Pompilius famous inuentors and ordayners of Lawes, shewed the subtilty of their wits, and the zeale which they had to their people, in ordaining many Lawes which they taught: not onely what they ought to doe: but that which they ought to flye.
For the good and expert Physitions doe deserue more prayse for to preserue vs before we are sicke: then to heale vs after that wee are diseased.
Plutarch in his Apothegmes Plutarch commendeth the Lacedemonians in obseruing their lawes neuer ceaseth to exalt the Lacedemonians, saying, That when they did obserue their Lawes, they were the most esteemed of all the Greekes, [Page 508] and after they brake them, they were the most vylest Subiects, which euer the Romanes had, The felicitie or infelicitie of Realms, doth not consist to haue good or euill Lawes, but to haue good or euill Princes: For little profiteth vs the Lawes to be iust, if the King be wicked.
Sextus Cheronensis in the life of Nero saith: When the Romaines and the Greekes had warres together, and that the Embassadours of those two Nations were at controuersie, which of them should haue the Rhodians to bee their Friends? The Greeke Embassadour sayd to the Romain: Yee ought A saying of Plutarch, not to make your selues equall. O Romains, with the Greekes, since the truth is, that ye came from Rome to Greece to seeke Lawes. The Romaine Embassadour aunswered him: I graunt thee, that from Rome we sent to seeke Lawes in Greece, but thou wilt not denye, that from Greece you haue brought the vices to Rome. I say vnto thee the truth, that without comparison, greater damage haue the vices done vnto vs, then your Lawes hath profited vs.
Plutarch in an Epistle hee wrote to Traiane, saide these words: Thou writest vnto me (most noble Prince) that thou art occupyed in ordayning newe Lawes: but in my opinion it had beene much better, that thou hadst kept, and caused to be kept the olde. For, little profiteth it to haue the Bookes full of good Lawes, and that the Common-wealth bee full of euill customes. I haue seene very fewe Princes but to make Lawes they had abilitie sufficient: and to keepe them, they haue felte in themselues great debilitie, and weakenesse.
Hereof we haue example: For, Nero was he which made the best Lawes in Rome: and that afterwards of life was most corrupt. For, the Gods oftentimes permit, that by the handes of some euill men, the others should bee constrained to bee good.
Plutarche saith further. If thou wilt (Noble Prince) trust thine owne vnderstanding, in my poore counsell, in fewe wordes, I would recyte vnto thee all the ancient lawes. I wil send thee very briefe and sweete Lawes: not to the ende thou shouldest publish them in Rome: but to the ende thou keepe them in thy house. For since thou hast made Lawes for all, I will make Lawes for thee.
The first Law is, that thou behaue thy selfe in such sort, that thou bee not detected The laws of Plutarche. of any notable vice: For, if the Prince bee vertuous in his Pallace, none dare be dissolute in his house.
The second Lawe is, that equally thou keepe Iustice, as well to him which liueth farre off, as to him which is neere about thee: For, it is much better that thou depart of thy goods to thy Seruants, then that thou shouldest giue that Iustice, which appertaineth to others.
The third Law is, that thou delight in word and deede to be true: and that they take thee not in this defaulte to speake too much: For Princes which in theyr words are vncertaine, and in theyr promises doubtfull shall be hated of theyr Friends, and mocked of their enemyes.
The fourth Law is, that thou bee very gentle of behauiour and conditions, and not forgetfull of seruices done: For vnthankfull Princes are hated of GOD, and despised of men.
The fifth Lawe is: that as a Pestilēce thou driue and chase awày from thee all cunning Sycophantes and Flatterers: For, such with theyr euill life, doe disturbe a whole Common wealth: and with theyr Flatteryes doe obscure and darken thy Renowme.
If thou (most Noble Prince) wilt obserue these fiue Lawes: thou shalt neede to make no more Lawes. For, there is no neede of other Lawes, in the Common wealth, then to see that the Prince bee of good life, &c.
This wrote Plutarche to the Emperour Traian: and euery vertuous man [Page 509] ought to haue them writen in his hart.
I was willing to touch this Historie, onely to shewe the profite of this last Law, where it sayeth: that Princes admit into their conuersation no Flatterers: of whom it is reason wee talke of now. For so much as there are diuers men, with whom they lose theyr time, and spend their goods.
When Rome was well ordered, two Officers were greatly esteemed to the Romaines: The one was the maisters of Fence, which were as men that fought & tourned, and many times in that fight they were slaine. And the cause to inuent this play, was: to the Wherfore the Romans esteemed Fencers. end young men (not expert in warre) should see the Swords drawne, sharpe speares, shooting of Crosse-bowes, to giue blowes with their Sword, shead bloud, to giue cruell woundes, and to sley men: For, in this sorte they lost feare, and in going to the warres they recouered courage.
The man which hath once passed a Fourd in the water, though it be in the night, dare passe it againe: But hee which hath neuer passed it ouer, although it be in the day, dare not once aduenture it. I mean, that the Romanes were very Sage, to shewe vnto theyr children the dangers, before they did put them therein. For, this is the difference betweene the fearfull hart, and the couragious stomacke: in that the one flyeth from a distaffe, and the other is not afraid of a sword.
The second Office which was esteemed in Rome was, that of the Iugglers, Ieasters, Comediants, and of such others, which inuented playes and pastimes: and the Romaines deuised these sports, to reioyce the people: & in especially men of warre, whom they feasted at their going foorth, and much more at their cōming home. For the Romains thinking that they should be with such glorie receyued: went with determination, either to winne the victorie, or to dye in battell.
The ancients and true Romains had such care for the Common-wealth of their people, that they consented that Ieasters should ieast, Iugglers should iuggle, and the Players of Enterludes shold play: But this was not through abundance of vanitie, nor for want of grauitie, but to take from the Plebeians An ancient custome among the Romaines, occasion of idlenes, and to keepe them occupyed in other particular Playes: they would that al the pleasures shold bee taken together: Not without cause (I say) that the pleasures were taken in common: that is to say, that no Romaine could play any Playes particularly, make any Bankets, represent Comedyes, nor make any Feasts, besides those which they made to reioyce the whole people: so that in Rome they trauelled seuerally, and reioyced together. I would to GOD that such, and so excellent a Romaine custome were obserued in our Christian Common-wealth.
But now I am very sorrie that indifferently Rich and poore, great and small, doe play Comedyes, runne the Bulles, make iousts, ordeyne bankets, weare deuises, feast the Ladyes, spend in bankets, and inuent Feastes.
The which things altogether, doe redound to the damage of the Commonwealth, to the waste of the goods, and to the corruption of the māners: For, the particular pastimes doe increase new vices to breede in men.
These Players did serue in Rome to make pastime, at the great Feastes of their Gods: For since Romaines were great worshippers of their Gods, and so carefull of their Tēples, they sought to feast them all the wayes they could inuent. Truly this was done by the diuine sufferance: for their Gods being laughing-stocks (as indeed they were) the liuing GOD would they should be serued, honoured, and feasted, by Ieastures and mocks. Blondus in the third [Page 510] booke De Roma triumphante, mentioneth that which I haue spoken, and sayth, That the Romanes were no lesse curious to giue lawes to the Iuglers and iesters which went mocking vp and downe Rome, then to the captaines which were fighting in the warre: For though they did permit Iesters, players and suglers, to exercise The reason wherefore the Romās allowed Iesters, their offices: yet they did commaund them that their liues might be vpright and iust. Amongst others, such were the Lawes which the Romaines ordayned for these Iesters, Iuglers, Players and Tumblers.
The first Law was, which they commanded that they should all bee knowne and examined, to see if they were honest men, wise and sage: for the more their offices were vaine, so much the more they prouided, that they were giuen to wise men.
The second Law commanded to examine them, to see if they were able and comely to exercise their offices: and indeed in this case, as well as in the other, they had reason, as very a foole as hee which for harkening to a foole not pleasant, as the foole himselfe.
The third law was that they did not permit any Romane Iugler for to exercise such feates, vnlesse hee had some other craft: so that if they occupyed the Holy dayes to play and shew pastime in the streetes, the other dayes they should work at home at their houses.
The fourth Law was, that no Iugler nor Vice should be so hardy in his ostentation to speake any malices: & indeed it was a Law very necessary: For oftentimes they are few which doe reioyce at their mockeries: and many which doe complaine of theyr malices.
The fift Law was, that no Iugler nor Iester should bee so bold to make any pastimes in any particular Houses but in open places: for otherwise those which spake them became hardy, and those which heard them were vicious.
The Romanes not contented to haue made these Lawes ordayned that the Iuglers for no pastimes shewed, or any other thing spoken should Allowance giuen by the Romans to Iuglers. bee so bold as to receiue any money: And to auoid their complaints, and to satisfie their paines, they allowed euery one of them a thousand sexterces yearely out of the common treasure.
Wee ought greatly to praise the prouidence of the Romanes, which haue prescribed a kinde of life for the Iesters to liue, euen as they did to other men of Rome, and to the Captaines of warre. And in this place no lesse then in an other graue thing, they shewed their wisedome: For a Gouernour of a Common-wealth trauelleth more to correct fools, then to gouerne the sage.
CHAP. XLIIII. How some Iesters were punished by the Auncients, and of the Iesters, and Loyterers of our time.
IVlius Capitolinus in the booke of the manners of the ancients sayth, that in times past, the Iesters and Iuglers were greatly esteemed. And wee will not deny but that they had reason, since with them they honoured the gods they tooke their pleasures, they reioyced their feasts, they were very quicke men, not importunate, nor couetous.
The Iester hath no grace, vnlesse [Page 511] immediately a man putteth his hand to the purse. We find some fragments of an Oration which Cicero made in the Senat, greatly reprouing the Senators, and all the people, because they so willingly gaue eare to this Iester, who stirred vp sedition among the Commons, his name was Roscio, who was so greatly esteemed in Rome, that the Romaines did more willingly heare that which hee sayde in his Iests, then that which Cicero spake in good earnest. This Iester Roscio and Cicero striued which of them both were of greater wit, Roscio for presenting a thing with diuers iests, or Cicero pronouncing waighty matters in earnest.
When I read in Iulius Capitolinus that which I haue spoken, I will not cease to confesse my innocency, for that I could not then keepe my selfe from laughing, to see that Roscio being Prince of folly, did presume to The difference betweene Roscio the Iester and Cicero, dispute with Cicero, which was Father of eloquence: Sith all these thinges are vnstable in one, so from one day to another wee see them chance. The Romanes did greatly esteeme the policy of the Common-wealth, the discipline of warre, the nurture of children, the exercise of the young, and the honesty of the Players and Iuglers, the which in time came to bee dissolute, that very oft they were occasion of great slaunder among the people. The which by the Romanes seene and considered, and that the Iesters which were wont to shew them pleasures, were cause of dissention (& where all they commaunded them to be resident in their offices, they were vagabonds, and that vsing them as sages, they liued as loyterers & fooles, & not contented with that they gaue them of the common Treasure, but they went begging of euery man) the Senate of Rome determined among themselues to banish all the Iuglers, and Iesters out of the Commonwealth.
On this execution of these loyteterers, sprang diuers dissentions among the people: For the Princes which were good, cast them out, and those which were euill called them in: So that one of the tokens which were in Rome, to know a verruous or vitious Prince, was to see if hee maintayned Iesters, Iuglers or vagabonds among the people.
Plutarch in his Apothegmes sayeth, that the Lacedemonians did neuer Permit any iugler or Iester to be in the Common-wealth. And when one A good and ancient Law amōg the Lacedemonians. did demaund a Lacedemonian, by an Ambassadour of Rhodes, what was the occasion to make such a law, since that the Iesters and players shewed pleasure to the people, and the people lost nought but laughed at their folly: The Lacedemonian answered; Licurgus saw, heard, felt, or read some great damage, the Iesters, Iuglers, or Players, might doe in the commonwealth, since against them hee made this so straight a law: But that which I know is that wee Greekes are better weeping with our Sages, then are the Romanes laughing at their fooles Dio in the life of Traian declareth, that there came a Iugler to Rome from Africke, whose conuayance was so cleane, that it was a wonderfull thing to see what feates he did and to he are what words he spake.
And when they prayed the good Emperor Traian, that it would please him to heare him, he answered. It is not for the authority of a graue and vertuous Prince, that in his presence any such vaine thing should be shewed: For in such a case, hee should be no lesse noted of lightnesse, then the other accused of folly.
And further he sayde, Before princes a man should not be so hardy to speake dishonest wordes, nor shewe [Page 510] light representations. And in such case as much paine deserue they which moue him thereto: as those which doe represent them: For a man ought not to put before Princes the things which should allure them to vices, but things which should moue them to vertues.
Certainely these words were worthy of such a personage. Suetonius Tranquillus in the life of Augustus declareth, that in Rome there was a Iester very pleasant, and of an excellent wit, called Epifanius, who one day vpon a Holy day to shew the Emperour some pleasure, and hoping to haue a good reward, went to the Pallace at one time in the attire of a Page, and another time in the habite of a Romane Matrone: and so truely counterfeyted euery thing, that it seemed not to be him, but the selfe same person her represented.
The Emperour Augustus was greatly displeased with that the Iester had done, and commaunded forthwith that hee should be whipt three times about the Theater. And when hee complained, that the Emperor commaunded vacabonds to be whipped once, and he thrice: the Emperour Augustus answered, Once they shall Punishment infflicted by Augustus vpon a Iester. whippe thee, for the iniurie thou diddest to the Roman matron whom thou diddest sepresent. The second time they shall whipp thee for the presumption that thou hast to represent it before my person. The third for the time that thou hast made diuers lose for beholding and hearing thee: For Iesters doe not deserue so much punishment in the Iestes and mockeries they doe say, as for the time which they lose, and cause others to lose.
Certainely, the punishment which was giuen to the Iester, was very iust, and exceeding good were the words which Augustus sayde. There was an other in the time of Augustus, whose name was Pilas, And when the Emperour had banished all the Iesters and Iuglers from Rome, this Pilas was so pleasant and merry with all persons, that with great instance they besought the Emperour to reuoke that sentence. And the request indeed was so great, as if it had beene for a Philosopher, they could not haue done more.
For vaine and light men, employ rather that they haue on him, who bringeth vnto them some folly, then on one which teacheth and correcteth their life. The Emperour condiscended to the request of the people, on such condition, that they should giue a Master and Tutor vnto Pilas that should chastice and correct him as a foole; saying, That since Sages tooke fooles to be their Masters, that the fooles also should haue Sages for theyr Masters.
The case was that one day he that had the charge of Pilas, did rebuke him for certaine lightnes that he had done, whereat Pilas was exceeding wroth with him: The which the Emperour vnderstaunding, commanded he should be whipt and banished for euer.
When Augustus gaue this sentence they say, he said these words: Rome hath been mighty & puissant inough, to make her enemies stoope, and now shee is not able to banish Iesters and fooles. And An other worthy sentence of the Emperour Augustus, that that is worst of all, they haue presumption to vexe vs, and wee haue not courage to reproue them. The Lacedemonians had great reason, and also the Romanes, to rid their commonwealth of Iesters: for they are idle, vitious, dishonest, malicious, and preiudicial to the common-wealth: these Iesters and Iuglers are idle: seeing that more then others they eate the sweate of others. They are vitious, for they cannot exercise their offices but in vices, and in treating with vitious men.
[Page 513] They are dishonest, for they get not to eate by doing good works, but by speaking dishonest words. They are malitious, for they haue accustomed when they loue not a man, immediatly to speake euill of him: They are vnprofitable for the common wealth for they mocke vs and sell vs vaine words, and wee pay them good money.
The world is come to so great The vanity of men in maintaining Iesters & such idle persons: folly and corruption, that euen as graue and wise men thinke it great inconuenience, to be conuersant with vaine and fond men: so the Lordes of Estate thinke it an honour, to haue in their house, some foolish Iesters, yea better to say (with reuerence of speech) rayling knaues, which speake not to please, and shew pastime, but to offend the present, and rayle at the absent, as well of the high as the low: and that that is more yet then this, is that they are not contented to haue giuen this entertainement and welcome to the Noble men and Gentlemen that are at their Lordes boorde: but they must needs haue a cast at my Lord himselfe to cheare him withall: which intollerable abuse ought not to be suffred, but with most sharpe correction punished.
But what shall wee say, that for the most part the Lords are so vaine, and the Iesters so presumptuous and arrogant, that the Lords haue more care to content them, then they haue to please the Lords. In the house of a Lord, a foole at the end of the yeare will aske more then any other of those which are most auncient, so that the follies of the one are more acceptable then the seruices of all. It is shame to speake it, and no lesse for to write it, that the children of vanity are so vaine, that they bribe a foole or a Iester no lesse in these dayes, to the entent he may bee a meane for them vnto the Prince, then they did in times past desire Cicero, to make an Oration for them before the Senate. It is for want of vnderstanding, and through the vilety of the person, oppression of the heart, and disprayse of renowne, to be desirous by the means of fooles, to attaine to any thing: For he can haue no great wisdom which putteth his hope in the fauour of a foole.
What remaineth for me to say, when I haue sayde that which I will say? And it is, that if a Iester or foole say openly to some Lord, God saue your life, my good Lord. Oh hee is a Noble man indeed, he will not sticke to giue him a gowne of silke: and entring into a Church, hee would not giue a poore man a halfe penny.
O what negligence is there of Princes? O what vanity of Lordes? since they forsake the poore and wise, to enrich the Iesters and fooles: they haue enough for the world, and not for Iesus Christ: they giue to those that aske for his Louers sake, and not to those which aske for the health of the soule.
Hee ought not to doe so: for the Knight which is a Christian, and not a worldling, ought rather to will that the poore doe pray for him at the houre of death, then that the fooles and Iesters should prayse him in his life.
What doth it profite the soule, or the body, that the Iesters do praise thee for a cote thou hast giuen them: and that the poore accuse thee for the bread thou hast denied them? Peraduenture How necessarie it is to bee beneficiall to the poore. it will profite thee as much that a foole or a flatterer goe before a Prince apparrelled with a new liuerie of thine: as the poore man shall do thee damage before God, to whom thou hast denyed a poore ragged shirt? All Gentlemen, and Noble Parsonages, in the name of our Sauiour Iesus Christ, I admonish, exhort, [Page 514] and humbly require, that they consider well what they spend, and to whom they giue: for the good Princes ought to haue more respect of the necessities of the poore, then of the follyes of counterfeytes.
Giue as yee will, diuide as yee list, for at the houre of death, as much as yee haue laughed with the fooles, for that yee haue giuen them, so much shall yee weepe with the poore, for that you haue denyed them. At the houre of death it shall bee grieuous paines to him that dyeth, to see the flesh of the Orphanes all naked, and to he holde counterfaite fooles loden with their garments.
Of one thing I am amazed, that indifferently euery man may become a foole, and no man let him; and the worst of all is, if once a foole become couetous, all the world afterwards cannot make him to bee in his right sences. Truely such one which hath no reason to bee a foole, at the least he hath good occasion: since hee getteth more to eat playing, then the others doe by working. O what negligence of the Princes, and what smal respect of the Gouernours of the Common wealth is this? that a yong How hatefull Iesters and loyterers ought to be in a Commonwealth. man, whole, stoute, strong and valiant, should be suffered to goe from house to house, from table to table, and onely for babling vaine wordes, and telling shamefull lyes, hee should bee counted a man of an excellent tongue? Another folly there is in this case, that their words are not so foolish, as their deedes are wicked though they haue a good or euill grace, yet in the end, they be counted in the Common wealth, as loyterers and fooles. I know not whether in this case is greater, eyther their folly, or our lightnesse: for they vse vs as fooles, in telling vs lyes, and wee pay them good money.
The Romanes did not permit in their Common wealthes, olde stale Iesters, nor wee Christians ought to retaine into our houses idle loiterers: Yee ought to know, that more offendeth A custome vsed by the Romanes, worthy to be vsed of euery Nation: hee which sinneth with a deformed woman, then hee which sinneth with a beautifull Lady. And he which is drunke with sowre Ale, offendeth more then hee which is drunke with sweet wine.
And so in like manner, greater offence commit they which lose their times with fooles that haue no grace, then with Iesters which haue good wits: for it may be permitted sometime, that the Sage man for the recreation of his Spirits, doe frequent the company of some pleasant man.
CHAP. XLIV. Of a Letter which the Emperour wrote to Lambertus his friend, Gouernour of Hellespont, certifying him that he had banished from Rome all fooles, and loytering Players: and is diuided into three Chapters: a notable Letter for those that keepe counterfeyte fooles in their houses.
MArcus Aurelius onely Emperour of Rome, Lord of Asia, confederate with Europe, friends of Affricke, and enemy of the wars, wisheth health to thee Lambert, Gouernor of the Isle of Helespont. With the furres which thou didst send mee, I haue caused my gowne to be furred, and am girded with the girdle which thou didst present me, and am greatly contented with thy hounds: For all is so good, that the body doth reioyce to possesse it, and the eyes to beholde [Page 515] it, and also the heart to render thanks for it. Where I did aske a few things of thee in iest, thou hast sent me many in earnest, wherein not as a seruant but as a friend thou hast shewed thy selfe: For the office of noble and worthy hearts, is to offer to their friends, not onely that which they demaund, but that also which they doe thinke they will demaund. Truly thou hast better measured thy seruices by thy noblenesse: then I thee demaund by my couetousnesse: For if thou doest remember, I did demaund of thee onely 12. skinnes, and thou hast sent mee 12. dozen. I tolde thee that I desired 6. hounds for to hunt, & thou hast sent mee 12. of the best that can bee found in the Isle. In such sort, that I had honour, and thou hast wonne renowne: For in the little I haue demaunded, thou shalt see my little couetousnesse: and in the much thou hast sent mee, they shall perceiue thy great liberalitie. I esteeme highly that which thou hast sent mee, and I beseech the Gods send thee good lucke. For thou knowest wee may render thankes for the benefits receiued, but we haue not the power to requite the gentlenesse shewed. For the man which dare receiue of another any gift, doth bind himselfe to be his slaue. I cannot bee thy slaue, for I am thy friend, and thereof thou oughtest to reioyce, more then another. For being a seruant, I should serue thee with feare, but being a friend, I will profite thee with friendship.
Therefore to declare the chiefe occasion wherefore I write vnto thee at this present, I say, I send thee three The cause wherefore the Emperour wrote this letter. ships loden with Iesters and Iuglers, Loyterers, Vacabondsand fooles: and yet I do not send vnto thee all the vacabonds which are in Rome, for then thy Ile should be peopled with strangers. The office that they had, was that some of them iested and rayled at the table, some sang sundry malicious songs at mariages, others told lies and newes for their dinners at the gates, others played common playes in the streetes, other entertained the Romaine matrons with follish nouels and tales, others set forth vaine and light bookes of rymes and ballets, & yet I sweare vnto thee by the God Hercules, these Loyterers wanted no fooles to heare them. I let thee know my friend Lambert, that these Loiterers are such, and their Schollers in number so many, that though the Masters may be in 3. ships carried, yet the Schollers could not be in an hundred transported.
Of one thing I maruell much, and also I affirm, that the Gods be offended, since the earthquakes ouerthrew the houses, the great waters carry away the bridges, the frost freese the vines, the corrupt ayre infecteth the Wise men: and yet there is no plague that consumeth the fooles? O how vnhappy art thou Rome, vnto him that The Emperour bewayleth the folly of the Romanes. shall well behold thee, and diligently search thee: For in thee wanteth valiant Captaines, honest Senators, iust Censors, faithfull officers, and vertuous Princes: and onely there aboundeth fooles, Iesters, Players, Dicers, Loyterers, and vagabonds,
O what seruice thou shouldst do to the Gods, and profite to our mother Rome. if for three ships of fools, thou didst send vs one barke onely of wise men? I would not say, (but I will not cease to say) that I haue seene fooles, that I haue heard many follies, but I neuer saw so great fooles, nor heard such extreme folly, as that of some noble Romanes and Italians, who thinke it a great act to keepe a foole in their house. I iudge him to be a greater foole, that desireth to keepe a foole, then the foole himselfe: for a foole hath a sēblance of the sage, after hee accompanieth with a Sage: but [Page 516] the Sage sheweth himselfe a foole, after hee accompanieth with a foole. Why doe men seeke things of mockerie? since all that is in the World is mockerie? Why seeke wee fooles, since all that we say, is nothing but folly? Why doe wee reioyce with those that flatter vs, since there are none that say one onely truth? Why doe we seeke fained fooles, since that all, or the most part of vs all, are very fooles? I see diuers in Rome, the which though they company with honest men, are dissolute, companying with Sages they are simple, treating with wise men, they are without consideration, and being conuersant with fooles, they thinke to be sage: if we keepe company with pittifull. wee shall be pittifull.
If wee be conuersant with the cruell, Such company as mē haunt, the same shall they shew in their life. wee shall bee cruell: If wee communicate with lyers, we shall be lyers: If wee haunt the true, we shall be true: and if wee desire the foolish, we shall be fooles: for according to the masters and doctrines we haue, such shal be the sciences which we shall learne, and the works which wee shall follow.
The famous tyrant Dionysius the Syracusane, which was in Scicill, sayde vnto the Philosopher Diogenes.
Tell mee Diogenes, what kinde of men ought we to haue in our houses: and with what persons ought wee to diuide our goods?
Diogenes answered him. The wise man which will liue in peace with the Common wealth, and that will not see his goods euill employed, ought not to giue to eate, nor to accompany with any, but with the aged persons which should counsell them, & with the young which should serue them, with friends which should fauour them, and with the poore, to the end they should prayse them.
Dennis the tirant greatly commended that which Diogenes the Philosopher told him: but hee could neuer profit with that counsell: for as he shewed himself a tyrant in robbing: so he shewed himselfe also vndiscreet in spending. Presuppose that which Diogenes the Philosopher spake were true, that is to say, that we ought to To what sorts of people men ought to giue to eate. feede the aged seruants, friends and poore.
Wee see by this answere, it is not iust to giue to eate, eyther to Iesters, Parasites, Flatterers, Loyterers or fooles. First, mee seemeth, that a man ought not to thinke that fooles are capable to giue counsell, since they haue it not for themselues: for it should bee great folly to vse men as Sages, which of their owne will haue made themselues fooles.
The second, mee seemeth that it is a vaine thing to thinke, that the Iesters should serue as seruants: For these vnhappy people, to flye trauel onely, haue taken vpon them this office so slaunderous.
Thirdly, it seemeth to bee a shamefast thing, and of great inconuenience that any Noble and sage man should determine to haue any Flatterer or Iester for his familiar friend: for such ought not, nor cannot be counted among the true friends, since they loue vs not for the vertue we possesse, but for the goods which we haue.
Fourthly, me thinketh it a vaine thing to thinke, that vnder the colour of pouerty it should be iust, to giue meate to Iesters or Loyterers; for we cannot say, that such are poore, for that they want riches, but that folly aboundeth in them.
Since therfore a man is defamed to haue such Iesters, Flatterers, for friends, and that for beeing seruants they are vnable, and without witte to aske them counsell: mee thinketh it a great folly to spend his goods on such loyterers: For as their intentions [Page 517] to the Gods onely are manifest, and to men secret: so there is nothing wherein the good do approue, and manifest their intentions to bee good or euil, more then in the words which they speake, and in the Companies which they keepe.
CHAP. XLVI. Marcus Aurelius goeth forward with his letter, and declareth how he found the sepulchres of many learned Philosophers in Helespont, whereunto hee sent all these Loyterers.
I Will thou know Lambert that thy Isle is consecrated with the bones of many excellent men the which were banished by sundry tyrannous Princes of Rome. The Ancients greatly commend that Isle, because there are therein stones called Amatists, tame Deere, faire women, familiar wolues, swift dogs of feet, & pleasant fountaines.
Yet notwithstanding, I will not cease to commend these things which reioyce those that bee present, and The Emp: cōmendeth the isle of Helespont. also comfort those that bee to come: For I esteeme more the bones which the earth do couer: then the riches, which groweth thereon. If thou hast not lost the sence of smelling, as that Isle doth sauour vnto mee of Sages: so doth Rome stinke of fooles: For, for the time it is lesse paine to endure the stinke of the beast: then to heare the words of a foole. When the wars of Asia were ended, I returned home by that Isle, wherein I visited all the liuing people, and all the graues of the dead Phylosophers. And for a truth I tell thee Lambert, that that iourney was very troublesome vnto mee: for herein my person endured much paine, on the land I suffered diuers daungers, and on the Sea I saw my selfe in sundrie perills.
In the citie of Corinthe (where thou art resident at this present) in the middest of the Market-place, thou shalt find the graue of the phylosopher Panimio, to whome the straight friendship auayled little, which he had with Ouide: but the enmitie greatly endammaged him which hee had with Augustus the Emperour. Two myles from Theadfonte, at the foote of the How reuerently the Sages were esteemed in former time mountaines Arpines, thou shalt finde the graue of the famous Oratour Armeno, who was by the Consul Scylla vniustly banished. And of trueth, as heere was much bloud lost, because Scylla should not enter into Rome: so there were not fewe teares shedde in Italie, for the banishment of this learned Phylosopher.
In the gate of Argonauta, harde by the water, on the top of a high Rocke, thou shalt finde the bones of Celliodorus the philosopher, who obserued all the auncient lawes: and was a great enemy of those which brought in new customes and statutes.
This good Phylosopher was banished, in the prosperity and furie of the Marians: not for the euils they found in him, but for the vices hee reproued in them. In the fields Heliny, there was a great tombe, within the which were the bones of Selleno the phylosopher, who was as well learned in the vii. Liberall-arts, as if hee himselfe had first inuented them.
And hee was banished by the Emperour Nero: for because he perswaded this cruell Emperour to bee mercifull, and pittifull. In the fieldes Helini, out of the Woods, towardes the west parte, thou shalt finde the graue of the phylosopher Vulturnus: [Page 518] a man in Astrologie profoundly learned, which little auayled him in the time of his banishment. For hee was banished by Marcus Antonius: not for that Marcus Antonius would haue banished him (for hee was not offended by him) but because his loue Qu. Cleopatra hated him, as her mortall enemie. For Women of an euill life, doe commonly reuenge their angrie hearts, with the death of their especiall friends.
Diuers other Tombes in that isle I saw, the names whereof though in wryting I haue them: yet at this present I cannot call them to memorie. The noble minded respect antiquities. Well, by the faith of an honest man I sweare vnto thee, that thou shalt finde all true which I haue tolde thee.
Now I tell thee Lambert, that I visiting those graues, theyr Disciples did not beare them greater obedience, when thee were aliue, then I did reuerence now they are dead. And it is true also, that in al that time mine eyes were as much wet with teares, as their bones were couered with earth.
These worthy and learned Phylosophers were not banished, for any mischiefes by their persons committed, nor for any slaunders they had done in the common-wealths: but because the deeds of our fathers deserued that they should be taken from their companie: and we their children were not worthie, to haue the bones of such famous and renowmed Sages in our custodie.
I cannot tell, if the enuie I haue to that isle bee greater: or the pittie I haue of this miserable Rome: for the one is immortall by the graues of the dead, and the other is defamed with the bad life of the liuing.
I desire thee hartily as a friend, and doe commaund thee as a seruant, that thou keepe the Priuiledges, which I gaue to that Isle, without breaking any one. For, it is very iust, that such cities, peopled with such dead, should be priuiledged of the liuing: By this Centurion, thou shalt knowe all things which are chaunced amongst the prisoners.
For, if I should wryte vnto thee all the whole matter as it was done: I ensure thee, vnto mee it would be much paine to wryte it, and vnto thee great trouble to read it. It suffiseth presently to say, that the day of the great solemnitie of the Mother Berecynthia, a What vnloked for mischiefes arise at such meetings. slaunder arose in Rome, by the occasion of these Iesters, Scoffers, & Loyterers: and by the faith of a good man, I sweare vnto thee, that the bloud which was shead through the places, surmoūted the wine which was drunk at the Feast. And thinke not that which I say to be little, that the bloud which was shedde, surmounted the wine that was drunke.
For, as thou now knowest, the Cittizens are come to so great follie: that he which was on that day most drunk, they sayde that hee had offered vnto the Gods greatest sacrifices. I am yet afrayde to remember the crueltyes, which that day I saw with mine owne eyes: But I am much more ashamed of that which they talke of vs in straunge Realmes.
For, the Noble and worthie hearts, doe not account it so much, to receyue a great wound: as to take it of a cowardly man.
There is great difference betweene the Nettes wherewith they vse to take Byrdes, and no lesse is there betweene the hookes, wherewith they take Fish. I meane, that the knife which cutteth the Flesh, differeth much from the knife which hurteth the heart. For, the hurts of the bodie, with Surgeons helpe may bee healed: but the Gods onely are the physitions of the perills of the heart.
I behelde and saw Rome, which was neuer vanquyshed by valiaunt men, at [Page 519] that day ouercome by loyterers. Rome which could neuer bee won by those of Carthage, is now wonne by Iesters, Players and Vacabonds: Rome which triumphed of all the Realmes, is now vanquished of the loyterers, Iesters and idle persons.
Finally, wee saw that Rome which in times past gaue lawes to the barbarous, is now become the slaue of fooles: In this case I haue beene so troubled, that I cannot tell what to say, and lesse what I write vnto thee: One thing comforteth me, that since Rome and her Romanes doe not reioyce themselues but with fooles, that shee and her children be not punished but by the hands of fooles. I thinke not that in this case the Gods do any wrong, if Rome which laughed thorough mockery at the players, doe weepe one day with the loyterers in good earnest.
Thou mightst demaund me Lambert, since wee other Princes are bound to maintaine equall iustice with all: wherefore wee doe dissemble many offences which others haue done in earnest, and yet wee will not pardon those Iesters, since al that they haue inuented, was for mirth and pastime? I promise thee, though their offences were great indeed, yet I doe not banish thē so much for the bloud they haue shed, as for the good orders which they haue peruerted.
Once againe I returne to say vnto thee, that I haue not banished them so much for because they were occasion The reason wherefore the Emperour banished fooles and loyterers. of murthers, as to be teachers of all lyes. Without comparrison greater is the offence to the gods, & greater is the damage to the Commonwealth to take away (as the loyterers haue done) the senses of wise men, then that which the murtherers doe, to take life from their enemies.
The end of these Iestes, Scoffers, Iuglers, idle men, and those kind of raskalr, is alwayes to perswade men that they speake continually in mockeries, treat continually in mockeries, and to ridde them of their sorrowes, and all this is but to deceiue them of their goods.
In the which case I say, and so pleased it the gods, that they shoulde content themselues with the goods, without robbing vs of our wisedome. When Scipio the Affrican had ended the warres of Affricke, he went thorow Rome, accompanied not with valiant Captaines, but with the Players, Iesters, and Iuglers. The which a Philosopher seeing, sayde vnto him these words.
O Scipio, according to the much they haue talked of thee, and the little I see in thee, it had beene better thou hadst dyed in Affricke, then to come to Rome: for thy high Acts in thy absence did astonish vs, and thy lightnes in thy presence doth offend vs. To thee it is great infamie, and to the sacred Senate little honesty, that thou hauing conquered so mighty Princes in Affricke, shouldst goe accompanied with fooles and mad men in Rome. I let thee to vnderstand, that thy Life had not then so much perill among thy enemies, as thy honour hath at this present among fooles.
These words were very good, although The reward a poore Philosopher had for speaking truth. they were euill receyued of humane malice: for by reason of these words, the poore aged Philosopher was banished by the friends of Scipio, out of Iraly, and sent to the Isle of Helespont.
CHAP. XLVII. The Emperour endeth his Letter, and sheweth the cause and time, why, and when these Iesters and Iuglers were admitted into Rome.
AFter that these Loyterers & vagabonds shall land in thy Isle thou shalt let them goe at liberty, and shalt take none of their goods: but thou shalt aduertise them that they be not so hardy to exercise their craftes nor feates: For if they doe the contrary thou mayest make them lose their life in thy Isle, which I haue conditionally pardoned here in Rome. One thing I commaund thee, and I beseech thee forget it not, that is to say, that thou compell them to labour, and that in no meanes thou suffer them to bee idle.
For idlenes is the mother of all vices in the person, and the causer of all slanders which arise in the common Idlenes the mother of all vices. wealth.
Since wee knowe not but to labour, and the loyterers knowe not but to loyter: I would say, that with more reason they might say, that we were not sage, then wee might say, that they are fooles. For wrongfully are they called fooles, which by craft eate the sweat of others: seeing the little regarde wee haue to these Loyterers, and considering how much we presume: by the faith of a good man I sweare vnto thee Lambert, that with greater reason they should mocke our workes, then wee others should laugh at their words: for they profite more with our goods, then we doe of their folly. In the 251. of the foundation of Rome a sore plague came into Italy. The which being ended, they determined to tell not the thousands of men that were dead, but the small number of those which remained aliue. Rome afterwards being so solitarie, and Italy so desolate, onely to reioyce the people, and to the end the Cities should not remaine vnhabited: the first Theaters were inuented, and then first were these players receyued: For vntill that time the Romans knew no other thing, but to offer sacrifice to their gods in the temples, and to fight against their enemies in the fields. O lamentable thing to heare, that this plague lasted onely 24. monethes, and the rage and folly of these players and idle men hath endured more then 53. yeares. Would to the immortall gods that the plague had ended those few which remaine, before this cursed generatiō had broght so abominable customes into Rome: For much better had it beene for our mother Rome, that she had wanted inhabiters, then such raskals should haue come and dwelled therein.
I know Lambert, that those persons doe greatly complaine of mee, & that the complaints which they do in the beginning, shall not haue an ende there: but I care not much for the complaints of the euil which do serue for no other thing but to reproue the Iustices which are ministred vnto thē by the good.
The Princes in that they command and the Iudges in that they execute, ought not much to esteeme the complaints of all those which say they haue wrong: Prouided that the cause bee iustified, and that vnder the colour of iustice they do not wrong in deed.
In the flatteries which they tell vs concerning our glory, and in the slanders which they speake of vs, concerning our reproach, wise men ought [Page 521] well to note the nature of the person which speaketh it, whether that bee true which hee speaketh, and what moueth him to tell it: For as it is a shame for to bee rebuked of a man, which is honest: so it is no small infamie to be praysed of those which are euill.
Since the time I was borne, I neuer saw any thing lesse profitable in the commonwealth, nor more vaine, neither worse inuentions, nor colder recreations then these are, which these iesters, plaiers, and iuglers doe inuent.
What thing can bee more monstrous then to see the folly of a foole, bring diuers wise men out of their wits? What greater mockerie can there be, then that all doe thinke that the iests of a foole ought to bee reioyced The folly of fooles ought to be contemned of the wise. at, with the laughter of the Sage? What greater slaunder can there be, then that in the offices of the noble and worthy Romans, the gates should alwayes be open for fooles, and the wise men should finde them alwayes shut? What greater cruelty can there be in Rome, then that the Senators & rich men giue more to a Player for a song which he singeth in one houre, then they do to the seruants for seruing them a whole yeare? what greater theft can there be then this, that the Garrisons which are in Illyria want, and Players, Iesters, Iuglers, Flatterers, and Loyterers, in Rome haue too much?
What greater shame can Rome receyue then this, when it shall bee sayde in time to come, that Iuglers, Players, Parasites, Iesters, and Flatterers, haue wonne more with their iugling, playing, (iesting and flattering, then diuers Captaines with their weapons and triumphes? Beholde therefore Lambert, what difference there is betweene Captames and Loyrerets.
For when the one went through Rome, sowing their follyes from gate to gate: the others went from realm to realme, consuming their goods, aduenturing their liues, fighting against the barbarous people, & shedding their owne proper bloud.
And in the hindermost parte of Spaine, when those of Seuill had warre with the Gaditanes, it chanced that euen in the middest of the time those of Seuill wanted money, and two Parasites offered themselues for 2 years The great riches of two Parasites. to sustaine the warres with their own proper goods; so that with the riches of two fooles, many wise men were ouercome.
When the Amazones were Ladies of Asia, then they built the great temple of the goddesse Diana. And as the histories account, only with that they tooke away from a player, was builte this noble Temple. If the histories of the Egyptians do not deceyue me, King Ca [...]mus, who with a 1000. gates built the great City of Thebes, for such a building, so high and monstrous a City, all his subiects together gaue him not so much, as two Parasites did alone.
When the good Emperour Augustus renued the walles of Rome, & made them of hard stone, which before that time were onely of earth, and bricke, towards such a costly Worke, he had more of two Parasites which were drowned, then of all the City beside.
I beeing in the City of Corinthe, saw an auncient Tombe, wherein the Corinthians say their first King was buried. And the Historiographers say, that this King was a great wrastler, other say, hee was a Parasite: others say, hee was a Iugler, but howsoeuer it was, he was first a Iester, and obtained a Realme in earnest.
Behold Lambert, how they are neglected of the gods, and fauoured of [Page 522] fortune, and in how little estimation the goods of this life ought to bee esteemed, since som by counterfaiting the fooles, leaue of them as great memory of their folly, as the others doe by their wisedome.
There is one thing onely of these loyterers that pleaseth me, that is to say, that in his presence they make euery man laugh with the follyes they speake, and after that they are gone, all remaine sadde for the money they The property of Iuglers. carrie away. Truly it is a iust sentence of the gods, that those which haue taken vain pleasures together, do weepe afterwards for their losse seuerally. At this present I will write no more vnto thee, but that I send thee this letter written in Greeke, to the end thou maiest reade it to al those of that Isle. And thou shalt immediatelie dispatch the ships, to the end they carry the prouisions to the men of warre in Illyria. Peace bee with thee Lambert, health and good fortune to mee Marke.
The Senate saluteth thee, and do send thee the propagation of the gouernement for the next yeare. In the Calends of Ianuary thou shalt say, Gaude foelix. My wife Faustine commendeth her to thee, and sendeth thee for thy daughter a rich girdle: In payment of thy seruices, I do send thee two rich Iewels, two light horses, and one laden with 4000. Sexterces. Marcus of Mount Celio with his owne hand writeth vnto thee.
CHAP. XLVIII. That Princes and Noble men ought to remember that they are mortall, and must dye, wherein are sundry notable consolations against the feare of death.
CLeobolus and Biton, were the sonnes of a renowmed woman, the which was Nunne to the goddesse Iuno: & when the day of that solemne feast was celebrated, her children prepared a Chariot, wherein their mother should goe to the Temple: For the Greekes had this custome, the day that the Priestes went to offer any sacrifice, eyther they were carried on mens armes, or in Chariots. They adorned their temples so well, they esteemed their Sacrifices so much, and did so much honour their Priests, that if any Priest did set his foot on the ground, that day they did not permit him to offer any sacrifices to the Gods.
It chanced as this Nunne went in her Chariot, and her children Cleobolus & Biton with her, the beasts which drew the Chariot, suddenly fell down dead, ten miles from the Temple of the goddesse Iuno. The children seeing the beasts dead, and that their A true patterne for good and vertuous children. mother could not goe a foot, and that the Chariot was all ready, and that there was no beasts to draw it: they (as louing children) determined to yoake themselues, and draw the chariot, as if they had been dumb beasts. And as the mother carried them nine moneths in her wombe, so did they draw her in the chariot x. miles. Now for that they passed through infinite [Page 523] numbers of men to the feast of the goddesse Iuno, euery man seing Cleobolus and Biton yoked in the Chariot like beasts, were greatly amazed, saying that these two children deserued with great rewards to be recompenced. And truly they sayde iustly, and so they deserued it: For they deserued as much to be praysed for the example which they shewed to all children to reuerence their parents, as for carrying their mother in the Chariot to the Temple: So after that the Feast was ended, the mother not knowing how to require the benefite of her children, with many teares besought the goddesse Iuno, that she with the other gods would be contented to giue her two children the best thing that the gods could giue to their friends.
The Goddesse Iuno answered her, that shee was contented to require the other Gods, and that they would doe it. And the reward was, that for this noble fact the gods ordained, that Cleobolus and Biton should sleepe one day well, and in the morning, when they should wake, they should dye.
The mother pittifully bewayling the death of her children, and complaining of the gods, the Goddesse Iuno sayde vnto her; Thou hast no cause why to complaine, since wee haue giuen thee that thou hast demaunded, & hast demaunded that which wee haue giuen thee. I am a goddesse, and thou art my seruant, and therefore the gods haue giuen to thy children the thing, which they count most dear, which is death: For the greatest reuenge which among the gods wee can take of our enemies, is to let them liue long: and the best thing that we keep for our friends, is to make them to die quickely.
The author of this historie is called Hisearchus in his politikes, and Cicero in his first booke of his Tusculanes.
In the Isle of Delphos, where the oracle of the god Apollo was, there was a sumptuous Temple, the which for want of reparation fell downe to the ground, as oftentimes it chanceth to high and sumptuous buildings, which from time to time are not repaired: For if the walles, dungeons, Castels, and strong houses could speak, as well would they complaine for that they doe not renue them, as the olde men doe for that wee doe not cherish them.
Triphon and Agamendo, were two noble Personages of Greece, and counted for sage and rich men, the which went vnto the Temple of Apollo, and built it new againe, as well with the labour of their persons, as with the great expences of their goods. When the building was atchieued, the god Apollo sayde vnto them, that hee remembred well their good seruice, wherefore he would they should demaund him any thing in rewarde of their trauell, and with a good will it should be granted: for the gods vse for a little seruice to giue a great reward.
Triphon and Agamendo aunswered vnto the god Apollo, that for their good will, for their trauell, and for their expences, they demaunded no other reward, but that it would please him to giue them the best thing that might bee giuen vnto man, and that vnto them were most profite, saying: That the miserable men haue not the power to eschew the euill, nor wisedome to chuse the good,
The god Apollo answered, that he was contented to pay them their seruice which they had done, and for to Death the best gift that can be giuen to mortall men. grant them that which they had demaunded. By reason whereof, Triphon and Agamendo hauing dined, suddenly at the gates of the temple fel down dead: so that the reward of their trauel was to plucke them out of their [Page 524] miserie. The reason to declare these two examples, is to the ende that all mortall men may knowe, that there is nothing so good in this worlde, as to haue an ende of this life: and though to lose it there be no sauour, yet at the least there is profite. For wee would reproue a traueller of great foolishnes if sweating by the way he would sing: and after, at his iourneyes ende hee should beginne to weepe.
Is not hee simple, which is sorry for that hee is come into the Hauen? is not hee simple, that giueth the battell, and fighteth for that hee hath got the victorie? Is not he stubborne which How little we ought to esteeme of Death. is in great distresse, and is angry to be succoured? Therefore, more foolish, simple, and stubborn is hee, which trauelleth to dye, and is loath to meete with death. For, death is the true refuge, the perfect health, the sure Hauen, the whole victorie, the flesh without bones, Fish without scales, and corne without slrawe. Finally, after death wee haue nothing to bewayle, and much lesse to desire.
In the time of Adrian the Emperour, a Phylosopher called Secundus, (being meruellously learned) made an oration at the funerall of a Noble Romaine Matrone, (a Kins-woman of the Emperours) who spake exceedingly much euill of life, and maruellous much good of death. And when the Emp: demanded him what death was?
The phylosopher aunswered thus: Death is an eternall sleepe, a dissolution of the bodie, a terror of the rich, a desire of the poore, a thing inhetitable, a pilgrimage vncertaine, a Theefe of men, a kinde of sleeping, a shadow of life, a separation of the liuing, a companie of the dead, a resolution of all trauels, and the end of all ydle desires. Finally, Death is the scourge of all euill, and the chiefe reward of the good.
Truely this Phylosopher spake very well, and hee should not doe euill, which profoundly would consider, that hee had spoken.
Seneca in an Epistle, declareth of a Phylosopher whose name was Bessus: to whom, when they demanded what euill a man can haue in Death, since men feare it so much? Hee aunswered. If any damage or feare is in him who dyeth: it is not for the feare of death: but for the vice of him which dyeth.
Wee may agree to that the Phylosopher saide: that euen as the deafe cannot iudge harmony, nor the blind colours: so likewise they cannot say euill of death, especially he which neuer tasted it. For, of all those which are dead, none returned again to complaine of Death: and of these fewe that liue, all complaine of life.
If any of the dead returned hither to speak vvith the liuing, and as they Comforts against the feare of death. haue proued it, so they vvould tell vs.
If there were any harme in secrete death, it were reason to haue some feare of death? But though a man that neuer saw, heard, felt nor tasted death, doeth speake euill of Death, should wee therefore feare Death?
Those ought to haue done some euill in their life, which doe feare & speake euill of death. For, in the last houre, in the streight iudgement, the good shalbe known, & the euill discouered.
There is no Prince nor Knight, rich nor poore, whole nor sicke, lucky nor vnluckie, which I see with their vocations to be contented, saue onely the dead: which in theyr graues are in peace & rest, and are neither couetous proud, negligent, vain, ambicious, nor dissolute. So that the state of the dead ought to bee best, since wee see none therein to bee euill contented. And since therefore those which are poore, [...]oe seek the meanes wherwith to endch themselues: those which are sad, rio seeke wherby to reioyce, and those [Page 525] which are sicke, to seeke to be healed: why is it, that those which haue such feare of Death, doe seeke remedie against that feare? In this case I would say, that he which will not feare to die, let him vse himself well to liue. For the guyltles taketh away feare from death.
The diuine Plato demaunded Socrates how hee behaued himselfe in life: and how he would behaue himselfe in death? He answered, I let thee know, A Question of Plato, demaunded of Socrates. that in youth, I haue trauelled to liue well, and in age I haue studyed to die well: and sith my life hath been honest, I hope my death shall be ioyfull: And although I haue had sorrow to liue, I am sure I shall haue no paine to dye.
Truely these wordes are worthie of such a man. Men of stout harts suffer maruellously, when the swear of theyr trauell is not rewarded, when they are faithful, and their rewards aunswereth nothing to their true seruice: when for their good seruices, their Friends become vnthankefull to them, when they are worthy honour, and that they preferre them to honorable room and office. For the noble and valiant harts doe not esteeme to loose the rewarde of their labour: but thinke much vnkindenesse, when a man doeth not acknowledge theyr trauells.
Oh happie are they that dye: For, without inconuenience, and without paine euery man is in his graue. For, in this Tribunall, iustice to all is so equally obserued, that in the same place where wee haue deserued life, in the same place we merited death.
There was neuer nor neuer shall be iudge so iust, nor in iustice so vpright, that giueth reward by weight, and paine by measure: but that somtimes they chasten the innocent, & absolue the guiltie: they vexe the faultlesse, and they dissemble with the culpable. For, little auaileth it the playntife to haue good iustice: if conscience want to the iudge that should minister it.
Truely it is not so in Death, but all ought to account themselues happie. For he which shall haue good iustice, shall bee sure on his parte to haue the sentence.
When great Cato was Censor in Rome, a famous Romaine dyed, who shewed at his death a maruellous courage: and when the Romains praised him for that hee had so great vertue, and for the words he had spoken, Cato the Censor laughed at that they sayd, for that they praised him. And he being A question demanded of Cato, & his answer, demanded the cause of his laughter? annswered. Yee maruell at that I laugh, and I laugh at that yee maruell: For the perills and trauells considered wherein wee liue, and the safetie wherein wee dye, I say, that it is more needefull to haue vertue and strength to liue, then courage to dye. The Authour hereof is Plutarch in his Apothegmes.
Wee cannot say, but that Cato the Censor spake as a wise man: since daylie we see, shamefast and vertuous persons suffer hunger, cold, thyrst, trauell, pouerty, inconuenience, sorrows, enmities, and mishaps: of the which things wee were better to see the ende in one day, then to suffer them euery houre. For it is lesse euill to suffer an honest death, then to endure a miserable life.
Oh how small consideration haue men to thinke, that they ought to dye but once: Since the truth is, that the day when wee are born, and come inthis worlde, is the beginning of our death: and the last day is when we do cease to liue. If death bee no other but an ending of life, then reason perswadeth vs to thinke, that our infancie dyeth, our childhood dyeth, our manhoode dyeth, and our Age shall dye: wherof we may consequently cōclude that we dye euery yeare, euery day, euery houre, and euery moment.
[Page 526] So that thinking to leade a sure life, we taste a new death. I know not why men feare so much to dye, since that from the time of their birth, they seeke none other thing but death. For time neuer wanteth for any man to dye: neyther I knew any man that euer fayled of this way.
Seneca in an Epistle declareth, that as a Romaine Woman lamented the death of a Childe of hers, a Phylosopher saide vnto her: Woman, why A worthie sentence of Seneca. bewaylest thou thy childe? She aunswered. I weepe because hee hath liued xxv. yeares, and I would he should haue liued till fiftie. For, amongst vs mothers wee loue our Children so hartily, that we neuer cease to behold them, nor yet ende to bewaile them. Then the Phylosopher said: Tell me I pray thee woman: Why doest thou not complame of the Gods, because they created not thy Sonne manie yeares before he was borne: as well as thou complavnest that they haue not let him liue fiftie yeares? Thou weepest that hee is deade so soone: and thou dost not lament that he is borne so late.
I tell thee true Woman, that as thou doest not lament for the one, no more thou oughrest to bee sorrie for the other. For without the determination of the Gods, we cannot shorten death: and much lesse lengthen our life.
So Plinie saide in an Epistle, that the chiefest law which the Gods haue A sentence of Plinie, giuen vnto humane nature was, that none shold haue perpactual life. For, with dis-ordinate desire to liue long, wee should reioyce to goe out of this paine.
Two Phylosophers disputing before the great Emperor Theodose: the one saide that it was good to procure death: and the other likewise sayde, it was a necessary thing to hate life: The good Theodose taking him by the hand sayd: All wee mortalles are so extreame in hating and louing: that vnder the colour to loue and hate life, wee leade an euill life. For, we suffer so many trauells for to preserue it, that sometimes A worthie speech of the Emp: Theodose it were much better to loose it. And further hee sayde: Diuers vaine men are come into so great follyes, that for feare of Death, they procure to hasten death. And hauiwg consideration to this, me seemeth that wee ought not greatly to loue life, nor with desperation to seeke Death. For the strong and valiant men ought not to hate Life, so long as it lasteth: nor to bee displeased with death when hee commeth. All commended that which the Emperour Theodose spake, as Paulus Dyacon: saith in his life.
Let euery man speake what he will, and let the Phylosophers counsell what they lift, in my poore iudgment, hee alone shall receyue death without paine, who long before is prepared to receyue the same. For, sudden death is not onely bitter vnto him which tasteth it, but also it seareth him that hateth it.
Lactantius saide, that in such sorte man ought to liue, as if from hence an houre after he should dye. For those men which will haue Death before their eyes, it is vnpossible that they should giue place to vaine thoughts.
In my opinion, and also by the aduise of Apuleius It is as much follie to flie from that which we cannot auoyd: as to desire that wee can not attaine. And this is only spoken for those that would flye the voyage of death which is necessarie: and desire to come againe, which is vnpossible.
Those that trauell by long wayes, if they want any thing, they borrow it of their companie. If they haue forgotten ought, they returne to seeke it at their lodging, or else they write vnto their friends a letter. But I am sorrie, that if wee once dye, they will not let vs returne again, we cannot speake, [Page 527] and they will not agree we shall write: but such as they shall finde vs, so shall wee bee iudged. And that which is most fearfull of all, the execution and sentence is giuen in one day.
Let Noble Princes and great Lords beleeue mee in this: Let them not leaue that vndone til after their death: which they may doe, during their life. And let them not trust in that they commaund: but in that whiles they liue they doe.
Let them not trust in the workes of an other: but in theyr owne good deedes. For in the end one sigh shall be more worth then all the friendes of None ought to procrastinate or deny their amendment. the world. I counsell, pray, and exhort all wise and vertuous men: and also my selfe with them, that in such a sort wee liue, that at the houre of death, wee may say we liue. For wee cannot say that wee liue, when we liue not well. For, all that time which without profite wee shall liue, shall be counted vnto vs for nothing.
CHAP. XLIX. ¶ Of the death of Marcus Aurelius the Emperour, and how there are fewe Friendes which dare say the truth to sicke men.
THe good Emperor Marcus Aurelius; now beeing aged, not onely for the yeares he had: but also for the great trauells hee had in the warres endured: It chaunced, that in the xviii. yeare of his Empire, and lxxij. yeares from the day of his birth, and of the foundation of Rome, fiue hundreth xliii. beeing in the warre of Pannonie (which at this time is called Hungaria) besieging a famous cittie called Vendeliona, suddenly a disease of the palsey tooke him, which was such, that hee lost his life, and Rome her Prince, the best of life, that euer was borne therein.
Among the Heathen princes some had more force then he, others possessed more riches then hee, others were as aduenturous as hee, and some haue knowne as much as hee: but none hath bin of so excellent and vertuous a life, nor so modest as hee. For, his life being examined to the vttermost, ther are many princely vertues to follow, and fewe vices to reproue.
The occasion of his death was, that that in going one Night about his Campe, suddenly the disease of the palsey tooke him in his arme: so that from thence forwards hee could not put on his gowne, nor draw his sword, and much lesse carrie a staffe.
The good Empreour being so loaden with yeres, and no lesse with cares the sharpe Winter approching more and more, great aboundance of water A great discouragemēt to lo [...]e so worthie a personage. and snow fell about the Tents: so that another disease fell vpon him, called Litargie, the which thing much abated his courage, and in his Hoast caused great sorrow. For, he was so beloued of all, as if they had been his owne Children.
After that he had proued all medicines and remedyes that could bee found, and all other things, which vnto so great and mightie Princes were accustomed to be done, he perceyued in the end, that all remedie was past. And the reason heereof was, because his sicknes was exceeding vehement, and hee himselfe very aged, the Ayre vnwhol-some, and aboue all, because sorrowes and cares oppressed his hart.
Without doubt greater is the disease that proceedeth of sorrowe, then that which proceedeth of the Feuer quartaine. And thereof fensueth, that more easily is hee cured, which of corrupt humours is full: then hee which [Page 528] with profound, thoughts is oppressed.
The Emperour then beeing sicke in his chamber, and in such sort that hee could not exercise the feates of armes: as his men ranne out of their Campe to skyrmish, and the Hungarians in like manner to defend: the fight on both sides was so cruell, through the great effusion of bloud, that neither the Hungarians had cause to reioyce, nor yet the Romaines to be merrie.
Vnderstanding the euill order of his, and especially that v. of his Captaines were slaine in the conflict, and that he for his disease could not bee there in person: such sorrows pierced his hart, Extreame sorrows oppressed the good Emp: M: Aur. that although he desired forthwith to haue dyed, yet hee remained 2. dayes and 3. nights, without that hee would see light, or speak vnto any man of his.
So that the heat was much, the rest was small, the sighes were continuall, and the thyrst very great: the meate little, and the sleepe lesse: and aboue all his face wrinckled, and his lips very blacke.
Sometimes he cast vp his eyes, and at other times he wrong his hands: alwayes hee was silent, and continually hee sighed. His tongue was swollen, that hee could not spit: and his eyes very hollow with weeping. So that it was a great pittie to see his death: and no lesse compassion, to see the confusion of his pallace, and the hinderance of the warre.
Many valiant captains, many noble Romaines, many faithfull seruants, and many old friends, at all these heauines were present. But none of them durst speake to the Emperour Marke, partly for that they tooke him to be so sage, that they knewe not what counsell to giue him: and partely for that they were so sorrowful, that they could not refraine their heauie teares. For, the louing and true Friendes, in their life ought to bee beloued: and at theyr death to be bewailed. Great compassion ought men to haue of those which dye, not for that we see them dye: but because there are none that telleth them what they ought to doe.
Noble Princes and great Lords are in greater perill when they dye, then the Plebeyans. For the counseller dare not tell vnto his Lorde at the houre of death, that which hee knoweth: and much lesse will tell him how he ought to die, and what things hee ought to discharge whiles hee is aliue.
Manie goe to visite the sicke, that I would to GOD they went some other where. And the cause heereof is, that they see the sicke mans eyes hollowe, the flesh dryed, the armes without flesh, the colour enflamed, the ague continuall, the paine great, the tongue swollen, nature consumed, and besides all this, the house destroyed: and yet they say vnto the sicke man, Be of good cheere, I warrant you, you shall liue.
As young men naturallie desire to liue, and as death to all olde men is dreadfull: so though they see themselues in that distresse, yet they refuse Men ought to prouide a cleare conscience to depart this life, &c. no Medecines, as though there were great hope of life. And therof ensueth oftentimes, that the miserable creatures depart the worlde, without confessing vnto GOD, and making restitutions vnto men.
Oh if those which doe this, knewe what euill they doe. For to take away my goods, to trouble my person, to blernish my good name, to slaunder my parentage, and to reproue my life, these works are of cruell enemies: but to bee occasion to lose my soule, it is the works of the diuell of hell.
Certainly hee is a Diuell which deceyueth the sicke with flatteryes: and that in steed to helpe him to dye well, putteth him in vain-hope of long life. Herein hee that sayeth it, winneth little: and he that beleeueth it, aduentureth much. To mortall men it is more meete to giue counselles to reform [Page 529] their consciences with the truth: then to hazard their houses with lyes. With our friends wee are ashamelesse in their life, and also bashfull at their death. The which ought ought not to be so: For, if our Fathers were not dead, and that wee did not daylie see these that are present die: mee thinketh it were a shame, and also a feare, to say to the sicke that hee alone should die: But since thou knowest as well as he, and he knoweth as well as thou, that all doe trauell in this perillous iourney: what shame hast thou to say vnto thy friend, that hee is now at the last point?
If the dead should now reuiue, how would they complain of their friends? Good counsell against the feare of death. And this for no other cause, but for that they would not giue them good counsell at their death. For, if the sicke man bee my Friend, and that I see peraduenture he will dye: Why shall not I counsell him to prepare himselfe to dye?
Certainly oftentimes we see by experience, that those which are prepared, and are ready for to dye, doe escape: and those which thinke to liue, doe perish. What should they doe, which goe to visite the sicke, perswade them that they make their. Testaments, that they confesse their sinnes, that they discharge their conscience, that they receyue the Communion: and that they do reconcile themselues to their enemies. Certainely, all these things charge not the launce of death, nor cut not the threed of life.
I neuer saw blindenesse so blinde, nor ignorance so ignorant, as to be ashamed to counsell the sicke, that they are bound to do when they are whole. As we haue sayd here aboue.
Princes and great Lords, are those aboue all others, that liue and dye most abusedly. And the onely cause in this, that as their Seruants haue no hearts to perswade them, when they are merrie: so haue they no audacity to tell them truth, when they are in perill. For such seruants care little, so that their masters bequeath them any thing in their willes, whether they die well, or liue euill.
O what miserie and pitie is it, to see a Prince, a Lord, a gentleman, and a rich person die, if they haue no faithfull friend about them, to helpe them to passe that paine? And not without a cause I say, that he ought to be a faithfull friend. For many in our life do gape after our goods, & few at our deaths are sory for our offences.
The wise and sage men, before nature compelleth them to die, of Wise men prepare thēselues before death. their owne will ought to die. That is to say, that before they see themselues in the pangs of death, they haue their consciences ready prepared. For if we count him a foole, which wil passe the sea without a ship: truely we will not count him wise, which taketh his death without any preparation before.
What losest a wisest man to haue his will well ordained? in what aduenuenture of honour is any man before death, to reconcile himselfe to his enemies: and to those whom he hath borne hate and malice? What loseth he of his credite, who in his life time restoreth that, which at his death they will command him to render? wherein may a man shew himselfe to bee more wise, then when willingly hee hath discharged that, which afterwards by processe they will take from him?
O how many Princes, and great Lords are there, which onely not for spending one day about their testament, haue caused their children and heires, all the dayes of their life to bee in trauerse in the Law? So that they supposing to haue left their children wealthy, haue not left them, but for Atturneyes and Counsellers [Page 530] of the law. The true and vnfained Christian, ought euery morning so to dispose his goods, and correct life, as if he shold dye the same night. And at night in like manner he ought to commit himselfe to GOD: as if he hoped for no life vntill morning. For, to say the truth, to sustaine life, there are infinite trauels: but to meete with death, there is but one way.
If they will credite my wordes, I would coūsell no man in such estate to liue, that for any thing in the worlde he should vndoe himselfe. The Riche and the poore, the great and the smal, the Gentlemen, and the Plebeyans, all Death terrible to all men. say and sweare, that of death they are exceeding fearefull. To whome I say and affirm, that he alone feareth death in whome we see amendment of life.
Princes and great Lords, ought also to be perfect, to ende before they ende, to dye before they die, and to be mortified, before they bee mortified. If they doe this with themselues, they shall as easily leaue their life, as if they channged from one house to another. For the most parte of men delight to talke with leysure, to drinke with leysure, to eate with leysure, and to sleepe with leysure, but they die in haste: Not without cause, I say they die in haste, since wee see them receiue the sacrament of the Supper of the Lord in haste, male their willes by force, and with speede to confesse and receyue. So that they take it, and demaund it so late, and so without reason: that often times they haue loste their Sences, and are readie to giue vp the spirite, when they bring it vnto them.
What auaileth the Ship-master, after the ship is sunke? what doe weapons, after the battell is lost? What auaileth pleasures after men are dead? By this which I haue spoken, I will demaund what it auayleth the sicke? being heauie with sleepe, and berefte of their sences, to call for Confessors, vnto whome they confesse their sinnes? Euill shall hee bee confessed, which hath no vnderstanding to repent himselfe? What auaileth it to call the confessor to vnderstand the secrets of his Conscience, when the sicke man hath lost his speech?
Let vs not deceyue our selues, saying in our age, we will amend hereafter: and make restitution at our death. For, in mine opinion, it is not the poynt of wise men, nor of good Christiās, to desire so much time to offend, and they will not espie any to amend.
Would to GOD, that the third parte of the precious time which men occupie in sinne, were employed about the Repentance not to be omitted. meditations of Death, and the cares which they haue to accomplish their Fleshly lusts, were spent in bewayling their filthie sinnes.
I am very sorrie with my heart, that they so wickedly spend and passe theirlife, in vices and pleasures, as if there were no GOD, vnto whom they shold render account for their offences.
All worldlings willingly doe sinne, vpon a vaine hope onely in Age to amend, and at death to repent: But I would demaund him that in this hope sinned: what certainty he hath in age of amendment, and what assurance he hath to haue long warning before hee die:
Since we see by experience, there are moe in number which dye young, then olde: it is no reason wee should commit so many sinnes in one day, as that wee should haue cause to lament afterwards all the rest of our life. And afterwards to bewayle the sins of our long life, we desire no more but one space of an houre. Considering the the Omnipotencie of the Diuine mercie it sufficeth: yea, and I say, that the space of an houreis to much to repent vs of our wicked life: but I would counsel all, since the sinner for to repent [Page 531] taketh but one houre, that that be not the last houre. For, the sighes and repentance, which proceed from the bottome of the heart, penetrate the high Heauens: but those which come of necessity, doeth not pierce the bare seeling of the House.
I allow and commende, that those which visit [...] the sick, do counsell them to examin their consciences, to receiue the Communion, to pray vnto GOD, to forgiue their enemyes, and to recommend themselues to the deuoute prayers of the people, and to repent them of their sinnes.
Finally I say, that it is very good to doe all this: But yet I say, it is better to haue done it before. For, the diligent and careful Pyrate, prepareth for the Tempest, when the Sea is calme.
Hee that deepely would consider, how little the goods of this life are to be esteemed: Let him go to see a rich man when hee dyeth, and what he doeth in his bed. And he shall finde that the wife demandeth of the poore husband her dowrie, the Daughter the What care is had to inherit transitory goods. third parte, the other the fifth, the childe the preheminence of age, the Sonne in law his Marriage, the physition his duetie, the Slaue his libertie, the Seruaunts their wages, the creditours their debtes, and the worst of all is, that none of those that ought to inherite his goods, will giue him one glasse of water.
Those that shall heare or read this, ought to consider, that that which they haue seene done at the death of their neighbours: the same shall come vnto them, when they shall be sicke at the poynt of death. For, so soone as the Rich shutteth his eyes, forthwith there is great strife betweene the children for his goods. And this strife is not to vnburthen his soule: but which of them shall inherite most of his possessions, In this case, I will not my pen trauell any further, since both rich and poore doe daylie see the experience hereof. And in thigs verie manifest, it sufficeth onely for wise men to be put in memorie, without wasting any more time to perswade them.
Now the Emperor Marcus Aurelius had a secretarie verie wise, & vertuous, through whose hands the affaires of the Empire passed. And when this secretarie saw his Lord and Master so sicke, and almost at the houre of death, and that none of his parents or friends durst speake vnto him: he plainly determined to doe his dutie, wherein hee shewed verie well the profound knowledge hee had in wisedome, and the great good wil he bare to his Lord. This Secretary was called Panutius, the vertues and life of whom Sextus Cheronensis in the life of Marcus Aurelius declareth.
CHAP. L. Of the Comfortable words which the Secretary Panutius spake to the Emperour Marcus Aurelius at the houre of his death.
O My Lord and Master, mytongue cannot keepe silence, The worthy secretary Panurius his speech. mine eyes cannot refraine from bitter teares, nor my heart leaue from fetching sighs, nor yet reason can vse his duty: For my bloud boyleth, my sinews are dried, my powers be open, my heart doth faint, and my spirit is troubled. And the occasion of all this is, to see that the wholesome counsels which thou giuest to others: ether thou canst not, or will not take for thy selfe. I see thee die my Lord, and I die for that I cannot remedy thee.
For if the gods would haue granted me my request, for the lengthning of thy life one day, I would [Page 532] giue willingly my whole life.
Whither the sorrow bee true or fayned, it needeth not I declare vnto thee with wordes, since thou mayest manifestly discerne it by my countenance. For mine eyes with teares are wet, and my heart with sighes is very heauie.
I feele much the want of thy companie. I feele much the dammage, which (of thy death) to the whole commonwealth shall ensue. I feele much thy sorrowe which in thy pallace shall remaine. I feele much for that Rome this day is vndone: but that which aboue all things doth most torment my heart, is to haue seene thee liue as wise, and now to see thee dye as simple.
Tell me I pray thee my Lord, why do men learne the Greeke tongue? trauell to vnderstand the Hebrew: sweate The reason why men studie, is to learne to liue well. in the Latine, chaunge so many Maisters, turne so many bookes, and in studie consume so much money, and so many yeares: if it were not to knowe how to passe life with honor, and take death with patience?
The end why men ought to studie, is to learne to liue well. For there is no truer science in man, then to know how to order his life well. What profiteth it me to know much, if thereby I take no profite? what profiteth me to know straunge Languages, if I refrain nor my tongue from other mens matters? what profiteth it to studie many bookes, if I studie not but to begyule my friendes? what profiteth it to know the influence of the starres: and the course of the Elements: if I cannot keepe my selfe from vices?
Finally I say, that it little auayleth to to bee a master of the Sage, if secretly hee bee reported to bee a follower of fooles. The chiefe of all Phylosophie consisteth to serue GOD, and not to offend men.
I aske thee, most Noble Prince, what auaileth it the Pilot to know the Arte of Sayling, and after in a Tempest by negligence to perish? What auaileth it the valiaunt Captaine, to talke much of Warres, and afterwards he knoweth not how to giue the Battell? What auayleth it the guyde to tell the nearest way, and afterwards in the middest to loose himselfe?
All this which I haue spoken, is saide for thee my Lord: For, what auayleth it that thou beeing in health, shouldest sigh for death? since now when hee doeth approche, thou weepest because thou wouldest not leaue life?
One of the things wherein the wise man sheweth his wisdome, is to know Stedfastnes of minde is commendable. how to loue, and how to hate. For, it is great lightnes (I should rather say follie) to day to loue him, whome yesterday we hated: and to morrowe to slaunder him whom this day wee honoured.
What Prince so high, or what Plebeyan so base hath there been, or in the world shall euer be, the which hath so little (as thou) regarded life: and so highly commended death? What things haue I written (beeing thy Secretarie) with mine owne hand, to diuers Prouinces of the world: where thou speakest so much good of death, that sometimes thou madest mee to hate life? What was it to see that letter which thou wrotest vnto the noble Romaine, Claudinaes widdowe, comforting her of the death of her Husband, which dyed in the warres? Wherein shee aunswered: that she thought her trouble comfort, to deserue that thou shouldst write her such a Letter.
What a pittifull and sundry letter hast thou written to Antigonus, on the death of thy childe Verissimus, thy sonne so much desired? Whose death thou tookest so, that thou exceedest the limits of Phylosophie? but in the ende with thy princely vertues, thou didst qualifie thy woful sorows. What Sentences so profound, what wordes [Page 533] so well couched didst thou write in that booke intituled The remedy of the sorrowfull, the which thou didst send from the warre of Asia, to the Senatours of Rome: and that was to comfort them after a sore plague. And how much profite hath thy doctrine done since: with what new kinde of consolation hast thou comforted Helius Fabatus the Sensour, when his son was drowned in the riuer? where I do remember, that when we entred into his house, we found him weeping: and when wee went from thence, wee lest him laughing.
I doe remember that when thou wentst to visite Gneus Rusticus in his last disease, thou didst speake to him so effectuously, that with the vehemency of thy words, thou madest the teares to runne downe his cheekes. And I demanding him the occasions of his lamentations, he said: The Emperor The words of a wise man workes strange effects: my Lord hath told me so much euils that I haue won, and of so much good that I haue lost, that I weepe, I weepe not for life which is short, but for death which is long. The man whom aboue all thou hast loued, was Torquatus whom thou didst obey as thy father, and seruedst as thy master.
This thy faithfull friend being readie to die, and desiring yet to liue, thou sendest to offer sacrifices to the gods, not for that they should graunt himselfe, but that they should hasten his death.
Herewith I being astonied, thy noblenesse to so satisfie my ignorance, sayd vnto mee in secret these wordes. Maruell not Panutius to see me offer sacrifices to hasten my friends death: and not to prolong his life: for there is nothing that the faithfull friend ought so much to desire to true friend, as to see him ridde from the trauels of the earth, and to enioy the pleasures of heauen.
Why thinkest (thou most noble Prince) that I reduce all these things to thy memory, but for to demaund thee how it is possible, that I which haue heard thee speake so well of death, doe presently see thee so vnwilling to leaue life? since the gods commaund it, thy age willeth it, thy disease doth cause it, thy feeble nature doth permit it, the sinfull Rome doth deserue it, and the sickle fortune agreeth, that for our great miserie thou shouldest die. Why therefore sighest How loath great men are to die. thou so much for to die? The trauels which of necessitie must needes come, with stout heart ought to be receiued. The cowardly heart falleth before hee is beaten downe: but the stout and valiant stomacke, in greatest perill, recouereth most strength. Thou art one man, and not two, thou owest one death to the gods, and not two: Why wilt thou therefore, being but one, pay for two? and for one onely life, take two deaths? I meane, that before thou endest life, thou diest for pure sorrow.
After that thou hast sayled, and in the sayling, thou hast passed such perill, when the gods doe render thee in the safe Hauen, once againe thou wilt runne into the raging Sea, where thou scapest the victorie of life, and thou dyest with the ambushments of death. Threescore and two yeeres hast thou fought in the Field, and neuer turned thy backe: and fearest thou now, beeing enclosed in the Graue? Hast thou not passed the pykes, and bryers, wherein thou hast beene enclosed: and now thou tremblest, being in the sure way? Thou knowest what dammage it is, long to liue, and now thou doubtest of the profit of death, which ensueth. It is now many yeeres since death and thou haue beene at defyance, as mortall enemies: and now to lay thy hands on thy Weapons, thou flyest and turnest thy backe.
Threescore and two yeeres are past, [Page 534] since thou wert bent against fortune and now thou closest thy eyes, when thou oughtest ouer her to triumph. By that I haue told thee, I meane, that since wee doe not see thee take death willingly at this present: we do suspect that thy life hath not in times past beene very good: For the man which hath no desire to appeare before the gods, it is a token he is loaden with vices.
What meanest thou most noble Prince? why weepest thou as an infant, and complainest as a man in despaire? If thou weepest because thou dyest: I answer thee, that thou laughest as much when thou liuedst. For of too much laughing in the life, proceedeth much wayling at the death. Who hath alwaies for his heritage, Too much merriment in life breedeth woe in death. appropriated the places being in the common wealth. The vnconstancy of the minde, who shall bee so hardy to make steadie? I meane that all are dead, all die, & all shall die: & among all wilt thou alone liue? Wilt thou obtaine of the gods, that which maketh them gods? That is to say; that they make thee immortall as thē selues? Wilt thou alone haue by priuiledge, that which the gods haue by nature? My youth demandeth thy age what thing is best, or to say better which is lesse euill, to die well, or to liue euill. I doubt that any man may attaine to the meanes to liue well, according to the continuall and variable troubles and vexations which daily we haue accustomed to carrie betweene our hands, alwayes suffering hunger, cold, thirst, care, displeasures, temptations, persecutions, euill fortunes, ouerthrowes, and diseases.
This cannot be called life, but a long death: and with reason wee will call this life death, since a thousand times we hate life. If an ancient man did make a shew of his life, from time he is come out of the intrailes of his mother, vntill the time hee entreth into the bowels of the earth, and that body would declare al the sorrowes that he hath passed and the heart discouer all the ouerthrows of fortune, which he hath suffered: I imagine the gods would maruell, and men would wonder at the body which hath endured A custome of the Grecians and Romains. so much, and the heart which hath so greatly dissembled, I take the Greeks to be more wise, which weepe when their children bee borne, and laugh when the aged dye: then the Romanes which sing when their children are borne, and weepe when the olde men die. Wee haue much reason to laugh, when the olde men die, since they dy to laugh: and with great reason wee ought to weepe, when the children are borne, since they are borne to weepe.
CHAP. LI. Panutius the Secretarie continueth his exhortation, admonishing all men willingly to accept death, & vtterly to forsake the world and all his vanities.
SInce life is now condemned for euill, there remaineth nought else, but to approoue death to be good. Oh if it pleased the immortall gods, that as I oftentimes haue heard the disputation of this matter: so now that thou couldest therewith profite. But I am sorry that to the Sage and wise man, counsell sometimes (or for the most part) wanteth. None ought to cleaue much to his owne opinion, but sometimes he should follow the counsell of the third person: For the man which in all things will follow [Page 535] his owne aduise, ought well to be assured that in all, or the most part, hee shall erre.
O my Lord Marke, sith thou art sage, liuely of spirit, of great experience, and ancient, didst not thou thinke, that as thou hadst buried many, so likewise some should burie thee? What imaginations were thine to thinke, that seeing the ende of their dayes, others should not see the end of thy yeares? Since thou diest rich, honorably accompanied, olde, and aboue all, seeing thou diest in the seruice of the commonwealth, why fearest thou to enter into thy graue? Thou hast alwaies beene a friend, as much to know things past, as those which were hid and kept secret. Since thou hast prooued what honours and dishonours deserue, riches and pouertie, prosperitie and aduersitie, ioy and sorrow, loue and fear, vices and pleasures: mee seemeth that nothing remaineth to know, but that it is necessarie to know what death is.
And also I sweare vnto thee (most noble Lord) that thou shalt learne more in one houre, what death is, then in an hundred yeares what life meaneth: Since thou art good, and presumest to be good, and hast liued as good, is it better that thou die, and goe with so many good; then that thou scape, and liue amongst so many euill? That thou feelest death, I maruell nothing at all, for thou art a man: but I doe maruell that thou dissemblest it not, since thou art discreet Many things doe the sage men feele, Wise men do outwardly dissemble inward griefes. which inwardly doe oppresse their heart, but outwardly they dissemble them, for the more honour. If all the poyson which in the sorrowfull heart is wrapped, were in small peeces in the feeble flesh scattered: then the wals would not suffice to rubbbe, neither the nayles to scratch vs.
What other thing is death, but a trap or doore wherewith to shut the shop, wherein all the miserie, of this wofull life are vendible? What wrong or preiudice doe the gods vnto vs, when they call vs before them, but from an old decayd house, to change vs to a new builded Pallace? And what other thing is the graue, but a strong fort, wherin we shut our selues from the assaults of life, and broyles of fortune: Truely wee ought to bee more desirous of that wee finde in death, then of that wee haue in life. If Helia Fabricia thy wife doe greeue thee, for that thou leauest her yong, doe not care: for shee presently hath little care of the perill wherein thy The custōe of many widowes. life dependeth. And in the end, when she shall know of thy death, shee will be nothing greeued. Trouble not thy selfe for that she is left a widdow: for yong women (as shee is) which are married to olde men (as thou) when their husbands die, they haue their eyes on that they can robbe, and their hearts on them whom they desire to marrie. And speaking with due respect, when with their eyes they outwardly seeme most for to bewayle: then with their hearts inwardly doe they most reioyce.
Deceiue not thy selfe in thinkeing that the Empresse thy wife is yong, and that she shall finde none other Emperor with whom again she may marrie. For such, and the like, will change the cloth of gold, for gownes of skinnes. I meane, that they would rather the young shepheard in the field, then the olde Emperour in his royall pallace. If thov takest sorrow for the children whom thou leauest I know not why thou shouldst do so? For truely if it greeue thee now, for that thou diest: they are more displeased for that thou liuest. The sonne that desireth not the death of his father, may be counted the onely Phenix of this world, for if the father bee [Page 536] poore, he wisheth him dead for that he is not maintained; and if hee rich he desireth his death to enherite the sooner.
Since therefore it is true (as indeed it is) it seemeth not wisedome that they sing, and thou weepe. If it greeue thee to leaue these goodly pallaces, and these sumptuous buildings, deceiue not thy selfe therein. For by the god Iupiter I sweare vnto thee, that since that death doth finish thee, at the end of threescore and two yeeres: time shall consume these sumptuous buildings in lesse then 40. If it greeue thee to forsake the company of thy friends and neighbors, for them also take as little thought, since for thee they will not take any at all. For amongst the other compassions that they ought to haue of the dead, this is true, that scarcely they are buried, but of their friends and neighbours they are forgotten. If thou takest greatest thought for that thou wilt not die, as the other Emperours of Rome are dead: me seemeth that thou oughtest also to cast this sorrow from thee: for thou knowest right well, that Rome hath accustomed to bee so vnthankefull to those which serue her: that the great Scipio also would not be buried therein.
If it greeue thee to die, to leaue so great a Seignory, as to leaue the Empire, I cannot thinke that such vanity be in thy head: for temperate and reposed men, when they escape from semblable offices, doe not thinke that they lose honour, but that they be free of a trouble some charge. Therefore if none of all these things moue thee to desire life, what should let thee that throgh thy gates enter not death it greeueth men to dy for one of these There are two things that grieue men at their death. two things, either for the loue of those they leaue behinde them, or for feare of that they hope. Since therefore there is nothing in this life worthy of loue, nor any thing in death why we should feare: why doe men feare to die? According to the heauy fighes thou fetchest, the bitter teares thou sheddest, and according also to that great paine thou shewest, for my part I thinke, that the thing in thy thought most forgotten was, that the gods should commaund thee to pay this debt. For admit that all thinke that their life shall end, yet no man thinketh that death wil come so soon. For that men think neuer to die, they neuer begin their faults to amend: so that both life and fault haue end in the graue together.
Knowest not thou (most noble Prince) that the long night commeth the middest morning. Doest thou not know, that after the moist morning there cometh the cleare Sun? Knowest not thou that after the cleare Sun commeth the cloudy Element. Doest thou not know that after the darke myst, there commeth extreme heate: And after the heate, commeth the horrible thunders: and after the thunders, the sodaine lightnings: and after the perilious lightnings commeth the terrible haile: Finally I say, that after the tempestuous and troublesome time, commonly commeth cleare and faire weather.
The order that time hath to make The same order that Time keepeth, man ought to follow. himselfe cruell and gentle, the selfe same ought men to haue, to liue and die. For after the infancy commeth childhood, after childhood commeth youth, after youth commeth age, and after age commeth the feareful death: Finally, after that feareful death, commeth the sure life. Oftentimes I haue read, and of thee not seldome heard that the gods onely which had no beginning, shall haue also no ending. Therefore mee thinketh (most noble Prince) that sage men ought not to desire to liue long: Formen which desire to liue much: either it is for that [Page 537] they haue not felt the trauels past, because they haue bene fooles, or for that they desire more time to giue themselues to vices. Thou mightest not complaine of that, since they haue not cut thee in the flower of the herbe, nor taken thee greene from the tree, nor cut thee in the spring tide, and much lesse eate thee eager before thou wert ripe.
By that I haue spoken, I meane, if death had called thee when thy life was sweetest: though thou hadst not had reason to haue complayned, yet thou mightest haue desired to haue altered it: For it is a greater griefe, to say vnto a yong man that he must die, and forsake the world. What is this (my Lord) now that the wall is decaied ready to fall, the flower is an hered the grape doth rot, the teeth are loose the gowne is worne, the lance is blunt the knife is dull, and dost thou desire to returne into the world, as if thou hadst neuer knowne the world? These threescore and two yeeres thou hast liued in the proportion of this body, and wilt thou now that the yron fetters haue rot thy legges, desire yet to lengthen thy daies, in this so wofull prison? They that will not be contented to liue threescore yeeres and fiue This transitory life not worth the desiring. in this death, or to die in this life: will not desire to liue threescore thousand yeeres.
The Emperour Augustus Octauian saide: That alter men had liued fiftie yeeres, either of their owne will they ought to dye; or else by force they should cause themselues to bee killed. For at that time, all those which haue any humaine felicitie, are at the best. Those which liue aboue that age, passe their daies in grieuous torments. As in the death of children, in the losse of goods, and importunitie of sonne in lawes, in maintaining processes, in discharging debts, in fighing for that is past, in bewayling that that is present, in dissembling iniuries, in hearing woful newes, and in other infinite trauels. I So that it were much better, to haue their eyes shut in the graue: thē their hearts and bodies aliue, to suffer Man neuer happy till death. so much in this miserable life. He whom the gods take from this miserable life at the end of fiftie yeeres, is quitted from all these miseries of life. For after that time hee is not weake, but crooked, hee goeth not, but rowlleth, he stumbleth nor but falleth.
O my Lord Marke, knowest thou not, that by the same way whereby goeth death, death cometh? Knowest not thou in like manner that it is 62. yeers that life hath fled from death: & that there is another time asmuch, that death goeth seeking thy life? and death going from Illiria where he left a great plague, & thou departing frō thy pallace ye two haue now met in Hungarie? Knowest not thou, that where thou leapedst out of thy mothers intrailes to gouerne the land, immediately death leaped out of his grauè to seeke thy life? Thou hast alwayes presumed, not onely to bee honored, but also to be honorable, if it bee so, since thou honouredst the Embassadors of Princes which did send them the more for their profite, then for thy seruice, why dost thou not honor thy messenger, whom the gods send more for thy profite, then for their seruices? Doest thou not remember well, when Vulcan my sonne in law poysoned me, more for the couetousnesse of my gods, then any desire that hee had of my life? thou Lord that diddest come to comfort mee in my chamber, and toldst me that the gods were cruell to slay the yong, and were pitiful to take the old from this world. And thou saidst further these wordes: Comfort thee Panutius, for if thou wert borne to the, now thou drest to liue.
Since therefore (noble Prince) that I tell thee that which thou toldst [Page 538] me, and counsell thee the same which thou counsellest me: I render to thee that which thou hast giuen me. Finally of these vines I haue gathered these cluster of grapes.
CHAP. LII. The answer of the Emperour Marcus to Panutius his Secretarie, wherein he declareth that he tooke no thought to forsake the world: but all his sorow was to leaue behind him an vnhappie child to inherit the Empire,
PAnutius blessed be the milke which thou hast sucked in Dacia, the bread which thou hast eaten in Rome, the larning which thou hast learned in Greece, and the bringing vppe which thou hast had in my pallace. For thou hast serued as a good seruant in life, and giuest mee good counsell as a trustie friende at death. I command Commodus my son to recompence thy seruice, and I beseech the immortall gods, that they acquite thy good counsels. And not without good cause I charge my son with the one, and requrie the gods of the other. For the payment of many seruices, one man alone may doe; but to pay one good counsell, it is requisite to haue all the gods. The greatest good that a friend can doe to his friend, is in great and waightie affaires, to giue him good and wholesome counsell. And not without cause I say wholesome: For commonly it chaunceth, that those which thinke with their counsell to remedy vs, doe put vs oftentimes in greatest perils. All the trauells of life are hard, but that of death is the most hard and terrible. Al are great, but this is the greatest. All are perillous, but this is most perrillons. All in death haue ende except the trauell of death, whereof wee The trauell of death is harder then all the trauell of life. know no end, that which I say now, no men perfectly can know, but he which seeth himselfe, as I see my selfe now at the point of death.
Certainly Panutius, thou hast spoken vnto mee as a wise man: but for that thou knowst not my griefe, thou couldst not cure my disease, for my sore is not there, where thou hast layde the plaister. The fistula is not there where thou hast cutte the flesh. The opilation is not there; where thou hast layd the oyntments. There were not the right veines, where thou didst let me bloud. Thou hast not yet touched the wound, which is the cause of all my griefe. I meane that thou oughtest to haue entred further with mee to haue knowne my griefe better.
The sighes which the heart fetcheth (I say those which come from the heart) let not euerie man think which heareth them, that he can immedialy vnderstand them: For as men cannot remedie the anguishes of the spirit, so the gods likewise would not that they should know the secrets of the heart.
Without feare or shame many dare say, that they know the thought of others, wherein they shew themselues to bee more fooles, then wise. For since there are many things in me wherein I my selfe doubt: how can a stranger haue any certaine knowledge therein.
Thou accusest me Panutius, that I feare death greatly, the which I deny: but to feare it as man, I doe confesse: For to deny that I feare not death, should bee to denie that I am not of flesh.
We see by experience, that the Elephants do feare the Lyon, the Beare [Page 539] the Elephant, the wolfe the Beare, the Lambe the Wolfe, the Rat the Cat, the Cat the Dog, the Dog the man: Finally the one and the other do feare for no other thing, but for feare that one killeth not the other. Then since bruite beasts refuse death, the which though they die, feare not to fight with the suries, nor hope not to rest with the gods: so much the more ought we to feare death, which die in doubt, whether the furies will teare The cause why men feare death. vs in peeces with their torments, or the gods will receiue vs in to their houses with ioy.
Thinkest thou Panutius, that I doe not see well my vine is gathered, and that it is not hid vnto me, that my palace falleth in decay? I know well, that I haue not but the kernell of the Raison, & the skin: and that I haue not but one sigh of all my life, vntill this time. There was great difference betweene me and thee, & now there is no great difference betwixt me and my selfe. For about the ensign, thou dost place the army. In the riuers, thou castest thy nets; within the parkes thou huntest the buls: in the shadow thou takest cold. By this I meane, that thou talkest so much of death, because that thou art sure of thy life.
O miserable man that I am, for in short space, of all that is life I haue possessed: with mee I shall carrie nothing but onely my winding sheete.
Alasse how shall I enter into the field, not where of fierce beasts I shall bee assaulted: but of the hungrie wormes deuoured. Alasse I see my selfe in that distresse, from whence my fraile flesh cannot escape. And if any hope remaine, it is in thee O death. When I am sicke, I would not that hee that is whole should comfort me. When I am sorrowfull, I would not that he which is merrie should comfort me. When I am bannished I would not that hee which is in prosperitie should comfort mee. When I am at the houre of death, I would not that hee should comfort me, which is not in suspition of life. But I would that the poore should comfort me in pouertie, the sorrowfull in my sorrowes, the banished in my banishment, and he which is in as great danger of his life, as I am now at the point of death. He giues best counsel to the sorrowfull that is himselfe likewise tormented.
For there is no counsell so healthfull, nor true, as that of the man which is in sorrow, when he counselleth another, which is likewise tormented himselfe. If thou considerest well this sentence, thou shalt finde that I haue spoken a thing profound, wherein notwithstanding my tongue is appeased. For in my opinion euill shall hee be comforted, which is weeping with him, that continually laugheth. I say this to the ende thou know, that I know it; and that thou perceiue that I perceiue it.
And because thou shalt not liue deceiued, as to my friend I will disclose the secret: and thou shalt see, that smal is the sorrow which I haue, in respect of the great, which I haue cause to haue. For if reason had not striued with sensualtie, the sighes ended my life, and in a pond of teares, they had made my graue.
The things which in mee thou hast seene, which abhore meate, to banish sleepe, to loue care, to bee annoyed with company, to take rest in sighes, and to take pleasures in teares: may easily declare vnto thee, what torment is in the sea of my heart, when such tremblings doe appeare in the earth of my body.
Let vs now come to the purpose, and we shal see why my bodie is without consolation, and my heart ouercome with sorrowes: for my feeling greatly exceeds my complaining, because the body is so delicate, that in scratching it, it complaineth: and the [Page 540] heart is so stout and valiant, that though it be hurt, yet it dissembleth.
O Panutius, I let thee know, that the occasion why I take death so grieuously, is because I leaue my sonne The occasion why Aurelius tooke his death heauily Commodus in this life: who liueth in this age most perillous for him, and no lesse dangerous for the Empire. By the flowers are the fruits knowne, by the grapes the vines are knowne, and by the face men are knowne: by the colt the horse is iudged, and by the infant, youth is knowne.
This I say by the Prince my sonne, for that hee hath bene euill in my life, I doe imagine that he will bee worse after my death. Since thou (as well as I) knowst the euill conditions of my sonne, why doest thou maruell at the thoughts and sorrowes of the father? My son Commodus in yeares is yong, and in vnderstanding yonger. Hee hath an euill inclination, and yet hee will not enforce himselfe against the same, hee gouerneth himselfe by his owne sence, and in matters of wisedome he knoweth little: of that hee should be ignorant, hee knoweth too much: and that which is worst of all, he is of no man esteemed. Hee knoweth nothing of things past, nor occupieth him about any thing present.
Finally, for that which mine eyes haue seene, I say, and that which within my heart I haue suspected I iudge: that shortly the person of my sonne shall be in hazard, and the memory of his father perish. O how vnkindely haue the gods vsed themselues toward vs, to command vs to leaue our honour in the hands of our children? for it should suffice, that wee should leaue them our goods: and that to our friends we should commit our honor. But yet I am sorry, for that they consume the goods in vices: and lose the honour for to bee vitious. The gods being pittifull as they are, since they giue vs the authoritie to diuide our goods: why do they not giue vs leaue to make our wils of the honor.
My sonnes name being Commodus in the Romain tongue, is as much to say, as profite: but as he is, wee will be content to bee without little profite, which he may do to some, so that we may bee excused of the great damage, which he is likely to doe to all. For I suppose hee will be the scourge of men, and the wrath of God. He entreth now into the pathway of youth, alone without a guide. And for that he hath to passe by the high and dangerous places: I feare lest hee bee lost, in the wood of vices.
For the children of Princes and Children brought vp in liberty & wantonnes easily fals into vices. great Lord [...] for so much as they are brought vp in libertie and wantonnesse, doe easily fal into vices, and voluptuousnesse: and are most stubborn to be withdrawne from folly.
O Panutius, giue attentiue eare to that I say vnto thee. Seest thou not that Commodus my sonne is at libertie, is rich, is yong, and is alone? By the faith of a good man, I sweare vnto thee, that the least of these windes would ouerthrow, not onely a young tender Ash, but also a mightie strong Oake. Riches, youth, pride, and liberty are foure plagues which poyson the Prince, replenish the common wealth with filth, kill the liuing, and defame the dead. Let the olde men beleeue me, and the young men marke mee well what I say, that where the gods haue giuen many gifts, it is necessary they haue many vertues to sustaine them.
The gentle, the peaceable, the coūterfeit, the simple, and the fearefull, doe not trouble the common wealth: but those whom nature hath giuen most gifts. For as experience teacheth vs, with the fairest women the stewes are furnished, the most proper personage are vnshamefast, the most stout and valiant are murderers, the most [Page 541] subtill are theeues, and men of clearest vnderstanding, oft times become most fooles.
I say, and say againe, I affirme, and affirme againe, I sweare and sweare againe, It is perillous to be adorned with naturall giftes, & to want requisite vertues. that if two men which are adorned with naturall gifts, doe want requisite vertues, such haue a knife in their hands, wherewith they do strike and wound themselues, a fire on their shoulders, wherewith they burne themselues, a rope at their neckes to hang themselues, a dagger at theyr breast wherewith they kill themselues, a thorne in their foote, wherwith they pricke themselues, and stones whereat they stumble: so that stumbling they fall, and falling they finde themselues with death whom they hate, and without life, which so much they loued.
Note well Panutius note, that the man which from his infancy hath alwayes the feare of the gods before his eyes, and the shame of men, saieth truth to all, and liueth in preiudice to none: and to such a tree, though euill fortune do cleaue, the flower of his youth doe wither, the leaues of theyr fauours drie, they gather the fruites of his trauels, they cut the bough of his offices, they bow the highest of his branches downewards; yet in the end though of the windes hee be beaten, hee shall neuer be ouercome.
O happy are those Fathers, vnto whom the Gods haue giuen quicke children, wise, fayre, able, light, and valiant: but all these giftes are but meanes to make them vicious. And in such case, if the Fathers would bee gouerned by my counsell, I would rather desire that members should want in them, then that vices should abound. Of the most fairest children which are borne in the Empire, my sonne Commodus the Prince is one: But I would to the immortall Gods, that in face hee resemble the blackest of Ethiope: and in manners, the greatest Philosopher of Greece: For the glory of the Father is not, nor ought not to bee, in that his child is fayre of complexion, and handsome of person What parents should glory of in their children. but that in his life hee bee very vpright.
Wee will not call him a pittifull Father, but a great enemy, who exalteth forth his child for that he is faire, and doth not correct him, though hee be vicious. I durst say, that the father which hath a child endued with many goodly gifts, and that hee doth employ them all to vices: such a child ought not to bee borne in the world, and if perchance he were borne, hee ought immediately to be buried.
CHAP. LIII. The Emperour Marcus Aurelius concludeth his matter, and sheweth that sondry young Princes for being vicious haue vndone themselues, and empouerished their Realms.
O What great pitty is it to see how the father buyeth his child of the gods with sighes, how the mother deliuers thē with pain, how, they both nourish them with trauels, how they watch to sustain them, how they labour to remedy them, & afterwards they haue so rebelled, and be so vicious, that the miserable Fathers oftentimes do die not for age, but for the griefes wherewith their children torment them. I doe remember, that the Prince Commodus my sonne beeing young, and I aged (as I am) with great paines we kept him from vices: but I feare, that after my death hee will hate vertues. I remember many yong [Page 542] Princes, which of his age, haue inherited th'Empire of Rome: who haue bin of so wicked a life, that they haue deserued to loose both honour and life..
I remember Dennys, the famous tyraunt of Scycile: of whom is saide, that as great reward hee gaue to those that inuented vices, as our Mother Rome did, to those which cōquered realms: Such worke could not be, but of a tyraunt to take them for most familiar, which are most vicious.
I remember foure young Princes, which gouerned the Empyre, but not with such valiauntnes as the great Alexander: that is to say, Alexander, Antiochus, Many yong vicious princes in Rome. Syluius, and Ptholomeus: vnto whom for their vanity and lightnes, as they called Alexander the Great, Emperour in Greece: so likewise do they call these young men, tyrants in Asia.
Very happie was Alexander in life, and they vnhappy after his death. For all that which with glorious triumphs hee wanne, with vile vices they lost. So that Alexander deuided betweene them foure, the worlde: and afterwards it came into the handes of moe then foure hundreth.
I doe remember, that king Antigonus little esteemed that, which cost his Lorde Alexander much. Hee was so light in the behauiour of his person, and so defamed in the affayres of the Common-wealth: that for mockerie and contempt, in the steed of a crown of golde, hee bare a garland: in the steed of a scepter, hee carryed nettles in his hand: and of this sort and manner he sate to iudge among his counsellors, & vsed to talke with strangers.
This yong Prince doth offend me much, for the lightnes he committed: but much more I maruell at the grauitie of the Sages of Greece, which suffered him. It is but meete hee be partaker of the paine, which condescended to the faulte.
I do remember Caligula the fourth Emperor of Rome, who was so young and foolish, that I doubt of these two things, which was greatest in his time, That is to say: The disobedience that the people bare to their Lorde, or the hate which the Lord bare to his people. For, that vnhappie creature was so disordered in his manners: that if all the Romaines had not watched to take life from him: hee would haue watched to take life from them.
This Caligula wore a brooche of The cruell inscription, in Coligulaes brooch gold in his cap, wherein were written these wordes: Vtinam omnis populus vnam precise ceruicem haberet, vt vno ictu omnes necarem: Which is to say: would to God all the people had but one necke, to the ende I might kill them all at a stroke.
I remember the Emperour Tiberius, th'adoptiue sonne of the good Caesar Augustus, which was called Augustus: because hee greatly augmented the Empyre. But the good Emperor did not so much augment the state of his Common-wealth, during his life, as Tyberius did diminish it, after his death. The hate and malice which the Romain people bare to Tiberius in his life, was manifestly discouered after the time of his death. For the day that Tyberius dyed (or better to say, when they killed him) the Romaine people made great processions, and the Senators offered great presents in the temples, and the priests gaue great Sacrifices to their Gods: and all to the end their gods shold not receiue the soule of this Tyraunt amongst them, but that they would sende it to be kept among the Furyes of hell.
I remember Patrocles (2. K. of Corinth) inherited the realm at xxii. yeres of his age, who was so disordred of his flesh, so indiscret in his doings, so couetous of goods, & such a coward of his person, that wher his father had possessed the Realm 40. yeres, the sonne did not possesse it thirtie moneths.
[Page 543] I remember Tarquine the prowde, who though among eight Knights of Rome was the last, and comlyest of gesture, valiaunt in Armes, Noblest of bloud, and in giuing most liberall: yet he employed all his gifts and grace [...] which the Gods had giuen him euill. For, hee employed his beautie to ryot, and his forces to tyrannie. For, through the treason & villanie, which hee committed with the Romaine Lucretia, he did not only lose the realme, and flying saued his life: but also for euer was banished, and all his Linage likewise.
I remember the cruell Emperour Nero, who liued, inherited, and dyed young: and not without a cause (I say) that hee liued and dyed young. For, in him was graffed the stocke of the noble & worthie Caesars: and in him was renued the memory of those tyrants: To whom thinkest thou Panutius this Tyrant would haue giuen life, since he with his owne hand gaue his Mother her death?
Tell mee (I pray thee) who thinkest thou hath made that cursed heart, who slewe his Mother, out of whose The cruelty of Nero, to his Mother. wombe he came? opened the breasts which gaue him sucke? Shedde the bloud wher of he was born? Tore the armes in which hee was carryed? & saw the entrails wherin he was formed.
The day that the Emperour Nero slewe his mother, an Orator said in the Senate: Iure interficienda erat Agrippina, qua tale portentum peperit in populo Romano.
Which is to say, iustly deserued Agrippina to bee put to death, which brought forth so straunge a Monster, amongst the Romaine people.
Thou oughtst not therefore to maruell (Panutius) at the nouelties which thou hast seene in mee: For in these three dayes that I haue been troubled in my minde, and altered in my vnderstanding: all these things are offered vnto me, and from the bottome of my hart I haue digested them. For the carefull men are not blinded, but with their owne imaginations. All these euill conditions which these Princes had scattred amongst them (of whom I haue spoken) doe meete together, in my Sonne Commodus.
For, if they were young, he is young: if they were rich, hee is rich: if they were free, he is free: if they were bold, he is bolde: if they were wilde, he is wilde: if they were euill, certainely I doe not thinke that hee is good.
For, wee see manie young Princes, which haue beene well brought vp, and well taught: yet when they haue inherited, and come to their Lands, they become immediately vicious and dissolute. They seldome mend that are vicious in youth.
What hope haue wee of those, which from their infancie are dissolute and euill enclined? Of good wine I haue made oft times strong vivineger: but of pure vineger, I haue neuer seene good wine.
This childe keepeth mee betweene the sailes of Feare, and the Ancker of hope: hoping he shall be good, since I haue taught him well, and fearing he shall be euill, because his mother Faustine hath nourished him euill. And that which is the worst, that the yong childe of his owne nature, is inclined to all euill,
I am moued to say thus much, for that I see his naturall inclination increase: and that which was taught him diminish. For the which occasion, I doubt that after my death, my sonne shall returne to that, wherin his mother hath nourished him: and not to that, wherein I haue taught him.
O how happy had I beene, if neuer I had had childe, or not to be bounde to leaue him the Empire: For I would chuse then, among the children of the good Fathers: & would not be bound to such a one, whom the gods haue giuen me.
[Page 544] One thing I aske thee Panutius, whom wouldest thou call most fortunate? Vespatian, which was naturall father of Domitius, or Nerua, the adopted father of the good Traiane: both those two, (Vespatian and Nerua) were good Princes, but of children, Domitian was the head of all mischiefe: and Traiane was the mirrour of all goodnesse. So that Vespatian in that he had children, was vnhappy, and Nerua in that hee had none, was most fortunate.
One thing I will tell thee Panutius, the which by thee considered, thou wilt little esteeme life, and shalt lose the feare of death. I haue liued threescore and two yeares, wherein I haue read much, hard much, seene, desired, attained, possessed, suffered, and I haue much reioyced my selfe. And in the end of all this, I see my selfe now to die, and I must want my pleasures, and my selfe also. Of all that I haue had, possessed, attained, and whereof I haue enioied, I haue only two things to say, paine for that I haue offended the gods, and sorrow for the time which I haue wasted in vices.
There is great difference between The difference betweene the poore and the rich in death. the rich and the poore in death, and more in life. For the poore dieth to iust, but if the rich die, it is to their treat paine. So that the gods take from the one, that which he had, and putteth the other in possession, of that he desired.
Great care hath the heart to seeke the goods, and they passe great troubles to heape vp them together, and great diligence must bee had in keeping them, and also much wit to encrease them: but without comparison, it is greater griefe to depart from them.
O what paine intollerable, and griefe it is to the wise man, seeing himselfe at the point of death, to leaue the sweet of his family, the maiestie of his Empire, the honour of his present, the loue of his friends, the payments of his debts, the deserts of his seruants and the memory of his predecessors, in the power of so euill a childe, the which neither deserueth it, nor yet will deserue it.
In the ninth Table of our auncient Lawes, are written these words: Wee ordaine and commaund, that the father which shall be good according to the opinion of all, may disherite his sonne, who according to the opinion of all is euill. The Law said further.
The childe which hath disobeyed his father, robbed any holy Temple, iniuried any widdow, fled from any battle, and committed any treason to a straunger, that hee should bee banished from Vicious children by an ancient law disinherited. Rome, and dsinherited from his fathers goods.
Truly the law was good, thogh by our offences it bee forgotten. If my breath faile mee not as it doth faile me (for of troth I am greatly pained) I would declare vnto thee how many Parthes, Medians, Egyptians, Assirians, Caldeans, Indians, Hebrewes, Greekes, and Romaines, haue left their children poore beeing able to haue left them rich, for no other cause, but for that they were vitious. And to the contrary, other beeing poore, haue left them rich, for that they were vertuous.
By the immortall gods I sweare vnto thee, that when they came from the warre of Parthia, and triumphed in Rome, and confirmed the Empire to my sonne, if then the Senate had not withstood mee, I had left Commodus my sonne poore with his vices, & wold haue made heir of all my Realmes, some vertuous man. I let thee know Panutius, that fiue things oppresse my heart sore, to the which I wold rather see remedy my selfe, then to command other to remedie it.
[Page 545] The first, for that in my life time I cannot determine the processes, that the vertuous widdow, Drusia hath with the Senate.
Because since she is poore, and deformed, there is no man that will giue her iustice.
The second, because I die not in Rome. And this for none other cause, thē that which the sound of the trumpet should bee proclaimed, that all those which haue any quarrel, or debt against me, and my family, should come thither to be paid, or satisfied of their debts and demands.
The third, that as I made foure tyrants Fiue things that oppressed Marcus Aurelius heart. to bee put to execution, which committed tiranny in Asia and Italy, so it greeued mee that I haue not also punished certaine pirates, which roued on the seas.
The fourth, for that I haue not caused the temple to bee finished which I did beginne for all the gods. For I might haue sayde vnto them after my death, that since for all them I haue made one house: it were not much that any of them shuld receiue one into his, which passe this life in the fauour of the gods, and without the hatred of men. For dying after this sort, men shall susteine our honours: and the gods shall prouide for our soules.
The fifth, for that I leaue in life for my onely heire, Commodus the Prince, yet not so much for the destruction which shall come to my house: as for the great dammage which shall succeed in the commonwealth. For the true Princes ought to take the dammages of their persons light, and the dammages of the commonwealth for the most grieuous.
O Panutius, let therefore this be the last word which I will say vnto thee, that is to say, that the greatest good that the gods may giue to the man that is not couetous, but vertuous, is to giue him good renowme in life: and afterwardes a good heire at our death.
Finally, I say, that if I haue any thing to do with the gods, I require, and beseech them, that if they should be offended, Rome slandered, my renowme defamed, and my house diminished, for that my sonne be of an euill life: that they will take from him life, before they giue me death,
CHAP. LIIII. Of the words which the Emperour Marcus Aurelius spake vnto his sonne Commodus at the houre of death, necessary for all young gentlemen to vnderstand.
SInce the disease of Marcus Aurelius was so extreme that euery houre of his life he was assaulted with death: after he had talked a long time with Panutius his Secretarie, he commanded his sonne Commodus to be wakened, who as a yong man slept soundly in his bed. And being come before his presence, all those which were there, were moued immediatly with compassion, to see the eyes of the father all swollen with weeping: and the eyes of the childe, closed with ouermuch sleepe.
They could not waken the childe, he was so carelesse: and they could not cause the good father sleepe, he tooke so great thought.
All those which were there, seeing how the father desired the good life of the sonne, and how little the sonne wayed the death of his father [Page 546] had compassion of the olde person, and bare hate to the wicked childe. Then the good Emperour casting his eyes on high, and directing his words to his sonne sayde.
When thou wert a childe, I tolde thy masters how they ought to bring thee vp, and after that thou diddest waxe greater, I tolde thy Gouernors how they should counsell thee: And now I will tell thee, how thou with them, which are few, and they with thee beeing one, ought to gouerne and maintaine the Commonwealth. If thou esteeme much that which I will say vnto thee, my sonne: Know thou, that I will esteeme much more then thou wilt beleeue me: for more easily doe wee olde men suffer your iniuries, then yee other young men doe receyue our counsels. Wisdome wanteth to you for to beleeue vs, yet wee want not boldnesse to dishonour you. And that which is worst, the aged in Rome, were wont to haue a chayre of wisdome & sagenesse: but now a dayes the young men count it a shame and folly. The world at this day is so changed, from that it was wont to bee in times past: that all haue the audacity to giue counsell, and few haue the wisedome to receyue it, so that they are a thousand which tell counsels, and there is not one that buyeth wisedome.
I beleeue well, my sonne, that according to my fatall Destenies, and thy euill manners, little shall that auayle which I shall tell thee: for since thou wouldest not credit these words which I spake vnto thee in my life: I am sure that thou wilt little regard them after my death.
But I doe this, more to satisfie my desire, and to accomplish that which I owe vnto the Commonwealth, then for that I hope for any amendment of thy life.
For there is no griefe that doth so much hurt a person, as when hee himselfe is cause of his owne paine. If any man doth mee an iniurie, if I lay my hands vpon him, or speake iniurious words vnto him, my heart is forthwith satisfied: but if I doe iniurie to my selfe, I am he which wrongeth, and am wronged, for that I haue none on whom I may reuenge my wrong, and I vexe and chase with my selfe.
If thou my sonne bee euill, after that thou hast enherited the Empire, my mother Rome wil complaine of the gods which haue giuen thee so many euill inclinations. Shee will complaine of Faustine thy mother which hath brought thee vp so wantonly, she will complaine of thee which hast no will to resist vice: but shee shall haue no cause to complaine of the olde man thy Father, who hath not giuen thee good counsels. For if thou hadst beleeued that which I tolde thee, mē would reioyce to haue thee for theyr Lord, and the Gods to vse thee as their Minister.
I cannot tell my sonne, if I bee deceyued, but I see thee so depriued of vnderstanding, so vncertaine in thy words, so dissolute in thy manners, so vniust in iustice, in that thou desirest so hardy, and in thy duty so negligent, that if thou change and alter not thy manners, men will hate thee, and the Gods will forsake thee.
O if thou knewest my sonne, what a thing it is to haue men for their enemies, and to be forsaken of the gods: by the faith of a good man I sweare vnto thee, that thou wouldest not onely hate the Seigniorie of Rome, but with thy handes also thou wouldest destroy thy selfe: For men which haue not the Gods mercifull, and the men friendly, doe eate the bread of griefe, and drinke the teares of sorrow.
I am sure thy sorrow is not so great [Page 547] to see the night doth end my life, as is that pleasure which thou hast, to see that in short space thou shalt bee Emperour of Rome. And I do not maruell hereat, for where sensuality raigneth, reason is banished, and constrained to flye.
Many loue diuers things, because of truth they know them not: the which if they did know, without doubt they would hate them. Thogh men loue in mockerie, the Gods and men hate vs in earnest.
In all things wee are so doubtfull, and in all our works so disordred, that at some time our vnderstanding is dull, and loseth the edge: and another time, it is more sharpe then it is necessary. Thereby I meane, that the good we will not heare, and much lesse wee will learne it, but of the euill wee know, more then behoueth vs, or necessitie requireth. The counsell of the Emperour to his sonne Comodus.
I will counsell thee, my sonne by words, that which in sixtie two years, I haue learned by science and experience. And since thou art as yet so young, it is reason that thou beleeue him which is aged; For since wee Princes are the mirrour of all, euery man doth behold vs, and wee other doe not behold our selues. This day or to morrow, thou shalt enherite the Romane Empire, and thinke that inheriting the same, thou shalt bee Lord of the world. Yet if thou knewest how many cares and perils, commaunding bringeth with it. I sweare vnto thee, that thou wouldest rather choose to obey all, then to command one. Thou thinkest my sonne, that I leaue thee a great Lord, for to leaue thee the Empire, which is not so: for all they haue neede but of thee, and thou alone hast neede of all
Thou thinkest I leaue thee much treasure, leauing thee the great reuenues of the Empire, that which also is as little: for though a Prince haue treasures in aboundance, yet if hee want friends, hee hath great want of treasures. Thou thinkest also my sonne, that I leaue thee to bee obeyed of all, and that none dare againe say thee.
Truly it ought not to bee so: for it is more meete for the Prince (which deserueth to preserue his life, and augment his honour) to bee conformable to the will of all, then to desire that all should bee agreeable to him: For thou, my sonne, that knowest not what truth is, lyes will not grieue thee: for as much, as thou knowest not what rest is, the broyles and motions of the people shall not vex thee; For that thou knowest not what friends meane, thou shalt esteeme it little to haue enemies: for if thou wert patient, reposed, true and a louing man, thou wouldest not onely refuse the Empire of Rome, but also thou wouldst curse the father which would leaue thee such inheritance. I would know, if thou knowest it not, that in leauing thee the Empire, I doe leaue thee not riches, but pouerty, not rest, but trauel, not peace but war, not friends but enemies: not pleasures but displeasures. Finally, in peace I do leaue thee, where alwayes thou shalt haue somwhat to bewayle: & though thou wouldest, thou shalt not laugh: I aduertise, admonish, and also exhort thee my son, to think all which I leaue thee is vanity, lightnes, folly, and a disguised mockery. And if thou beleeuest it is in mockry, henceforth I know thou art deceiued; I haue liued longer then thou, haue read more, and with pain haue gon further then thou. And in the end I find my selfe mocked: hopest, thou to liue surely, and escape without fraude? when thou shalt think to haue the Empire in rest, then shall arise a prouince in Africa or Asia, the losse should come to great damage, & to recouer it, great charges wold ensue.
[Page 548] When thou thinkest to recouer Friends, then shall strange enimies inuade thee. So that in flattering, and reioycing our Friendes, wee can not keepe them; and in flying, and reiecting them, wee cannot defend our selues. When thou shalt thinke to be in greatest ioy, then shall some care oppresse thy hart. For Princes which haue and possesse much, the newes which giue them pleasure, are very seldome: but the things which annoy them, come hourely. When thou shalt thinke to haue libertie, to doe what thou wilt, then shalt thou bee most restrayned.
For, the good and well ordered Princes, ought not to goe whither their wanton desires moueth them: but whither it is most lawfull and decent for the honour of their Estates: When thou shalt thinke that none dare reproue thee, for that thou art What words cannot doe treason will. Emperour, then oughtst thou most to beware. For, if they dare not threaten euill Princes with wordes, they haue the hardinesse to sell them by Treason. If they dare not punish them, they dare murmour at them: and these which cannot bee their friends, doe procure to bee their enemies. Finally, if they lay not hands on their persons, they let their tongue runne at large, to prate of their renowme. When thou shalt thinke to haue satisfied thy Seruaunts, then will they demaund recompence for their seruices.
For, it is an olde custome among Courtyers, to spend freely, and to couet greedily. Therefore if thou dost credite these things, I knowe not who is so foolish, that for his enheritance desireth such sorrow. For, admit that any man come to the Empire, without comparison the rest is more worth, which the Fmpyre taketh from him: then all the pleasures which it giueth him?
If the Empyre of Rome were as well corrected and ordered, as in olde time it was accustomed to be: though it were great paine to gouerne it, yet it were more honour to keepe it, but it is so rooted in vices, and so many Tyrants are entred therein, that I would take them more wise, to iudge it is a mockery, then those which embrace it as an honour.
If thou knewst what Rome is worth, what Rome hath, what Rome may, and what Rome is, I sweare vnto thee, that thou wouldest not labour much to be lord thereof. For though Rome with walls be strongly compassed: yet of vertuous Citizens is greatly vnprouided. If the inhabitants be great, the vices are without number.
Finally I say, that the stones which are in the buyldings, in one day may be counted: but the euills which are The sinnes of a populous Cittie not to be numbred. therein, in a thousand yeares cannot bee declared. By the faith of a good man, I sweare vnto thee my sonne, that when I began to reigne, in three yeares I repayred the decayed walles that were of Rome fallen, and one onely streete to liue well, in twenty yeares I could not reforme.
The diuine Plato sayd verie well: That much more ought the great cities to glorifie, to haue vertuous Citizens, then to haue proud and sumptuous buildings. Beware, beware my sonne, that the inconstancie of youth, and the libertie which thou hast to possesse, and gouerne the Empire, cause thee not to vndo thy selfe. For he is not coūted free which in liberty is borne, but he that dieth in libertie. O how many I haue read, heard, and also seene which are borne slaues and afterwards haue died free: and this for that they were vertuous. And how many I haue seene die slaues beeing borne free onely for being vitious, so that their libertie remaineth, where noblenesse is resident. Princes which [Page 549] haue great Realmes, of necessitie shall haue occasion to punish many excesses: wherfore it is requisite that they be couragious. And beleeue mee my Sonne, that they ought not to take courage vpon them, because they bee mightie and puissant: but because they are vertuous. For, to punish these excesses of others, that good life is more requisite, then is the great authortitie of the Empire.
A vertuous Prince ought to leaue no vice vnpunished: For the good, to follow good, and the euill for feare of his correction, dare not commit any offence in the Common-wealth. He that liueth like a wise man, is hardy to giue punishment: but hee that liueth in feare, dare not almost speake. For, the man which dare bee so hardie, to punish an other, for the selfe same faulte, and transgression for the which hee deserueth to be punished: of the Gods hee is iustly hated, and of men despised.
Let Princes take it for an assured thing, that they shall neuer haue the loue of the people, the libertie of the Common-wealth, the order of their house, the contentation of their Friendes, the subiection of their enemies, and the obedience of their people: but with manie Teares shed on the earth, and with manie prowesses of his person.
To a vertuous Prince, all doe render: and against the vicious Prince. all the earth doth rebell. Now if thou wilt bee vertuous, heare what thing vertue is.
Vertue is a Castle, which neuer is taken: a Riuer which is not passed ouer: a Sea, which is not sayled: a Fire, which neuer is quenched: a Treasure, that neuer is wasted, an Armie, that neuer is ouerthrowne: a Chaunge, which neuer wearieth: a Spye, which euer returneth: a signe, which beguyleth no man: a way very straight: a Friend, that succoureth all necessities: a Surgion, that immediately healeth: and a Renowne which neuer perisheth.
If thou knewest (my Sonne) what thing it is to be good, thou wouldst be the best of the world. For the more vicious a man is, so much the more hee is intangled in vices: and how As vice intangleth the vicious, so vertue cleaneth to the vertuous. much more a man is vertuous, so much more to vertues he cleaueth. If thou wilt bee vertuous, thou shalt doe seruice to the Gods, thou shalt giue good renowme to thy predecessours, and for thy selfe thou shalt prepare a perpetuall memorie: Thou shalt doe pleasures to straungers, and get thee fauour of thine owne people. Finally, the good will honour thee with loue: and the euill will serue with feare.
In the hystories of the warres of the Tarentines, I found that renowmed Pyrrus (king of the Epyrots) did weare in a ring these words written, It is too little punishment for a vicious man, to take his life from him: and it is too small reward for a vertuous man to giue him the seigniorie of all the whole earth. Truly, these wordes were worthy of such a man.
What thing can bee begunne of a vertuous man, whereof wee hope not to see the end, and come to good proofe? I am deceyued, if I haue not seene in my dayes, many men, which were base borne, vnfitte for sciences, voide of vices in the Common welth, poore of goods, and vnknowne of birth, which with all these base conditions haue learned so many vertues, that it seemed great rashnesse to beginne them, and afterwards for being vertuous onely, they haue founde the effects such as they thought it.
By the immortall Gods I sweare vnto thee, and so the God Iupiter take me into his holy house, and confirme thee my sonne in mine: if I haue [Page 550] not knowne a Gardner and a Porter in Rome, which for beeing vertuous, were occasion to cast fiue rich Senators out of the Senate. And the cause to make the one to gaine, and the other to lose, was that to the one they would not pay the pots, and to the other his apples: For at that time more was hee punished, which tooke an apple from a poore man, then hee which beat downe a rich mans house.
All this I haue tolde thee my son, because vice abaseth the hardy prince, and vertue giueth courage to the bashfull. From two things I haue alwayes kept my selfe, That is to say; not to striue against open iustice, nor to contend with a vertuous person.
CHAP. LV. The Emperour Marcus Aurelius followeth his purpose, and among other wholesome counsels, exhorteth his son to keepe wise and sage men about him, for to giue him counsel in al his affayrs
HItherto I haue spoken to thee generally, but now I wil speake vnto thee particularly, and by the immortall gods I coniure thee, that thou bee very attentiue to that I will say: For talking to thee as an aged Father, it is reason thou heare mee as an obedient childe.
If thou wilt enioy long life, obserue well my doctrine: For the gods will not condiscend to thy hearts desires, vnlesse thou receyue my wholesome counsels. Disobedience of children is their vndoing.
The disobedience and vnfaithfulnesse which children haue to their fathers, is all their vndoing: for oftentimes the gods do pardon the offences that are done vnto them: and do not pardon the disobediences which the children bare to their Fathers. I doe not require thee my sonne, that thou giue mee money, since thou art poore. I doe not demaund that thou trauell since thou art tender. I doe not demaund the reuengement of mine enemies, since I haue none. I doe not demaund that thou serue me since I dye.
I doe not demaund the Empire, since I leaue it vnto thee. Onely I demaund, that thou gouerne thy selfe well in the Common wealth, & that the memory of my house bee not lost through thee. If thou esteeme much that I leaue vnto thee so many realms, I thinke it better to leaue to thee many good counsels, wherewith thou mayest preserue thy selfe, sustaine thy person, and maintaine thine honour: For if thou hast presumption not to profite with my counsell, but to trust to thine owne mind, before my flesh be eaten with wormes, thou shalt be ouercome with thy enemies.
My sonne, I haue beene young, light, bold, vnshamefast, proud, enuious, couetous, an adulterer, furious, a glutton, slothfull, and ambitious, and for that I haue fallen into so great excesses, therfore I giue thee such good aduise: for that man which in his youth hath beene very worldly, from him in age proceedeth ripe counsell. That which vntill this time I haue counselled thee, & that which to my Ripe counsell proceedeth from the aged. death I will counsell thee, I desire that once at the least thou proue it: And if it doe thee harme, leaue it, and if it doe thee good, vse it: For there is no medicine so bitter, that the sicke doth refuse to take: if thereby hee thinke hee may bee healed. I pray thee, I exhort thee, and I aduise thee my sonne, that thy youth beleeue my age, thy ignorance beleeue my knowledge, [Page 551] thy sleepe beleeue my watch, the dimnesse of thy eyes, beleeue the clearenesse of my sight, thy imagination beleeue my vertue, and thy suspition beleeue my experience. For otherwise, one day thou shalt see thy selfe in some distresse, where small time thou shalt haue to repent, and none to finde remedy. Thou mayest say vnto me, my sonne, that since I haue beene young, I let thee to bee young, and that when thou shalt bee aged, thou wilt amend: I aunswere thee, that if thou wilt liue as young, yet at least gouerne thy selfe as olde: In a Prince which gouerneth his cō mon wealth well, many miseries are dissembled of his person: euen as for mighty affayres ripe counsels are necessary: so to endure the troubles of the Empire, the person needeth some recreation: for the bow-string which alwaies is stretched, either it lengthneth or it breaketh. Whether Princes be young or old, there can be nothing The pastime that Princes should seeke more iust then for the recreation of themselues to seeke some honest pastimes. And not without a cause, I say, that they bee honest: for sometimes they accompany with so dishonest persons, and so vnthrifty: that they spend their goods, they lose their honour, and weary their persons more, then if they were occupied in the affaires of the common wealth: For thy youth, I leaue thee children of great Lords, with whom thou maiest passe the time away: And not without cause I haue prouided that with thee they haue been brought vp from thy infancy: for after thou camest to mans estate, inheriting my goods, if perchance thou wouldest accompany thy self with yong men, thou shouldst find them well learned: for thy wars I leaue thee valiant captains, though (indeed) things of war are begunn by wisedome: yet in the end, the issue falleth out by fortune: for stewards of thy treasurs, I leaue thee faithful men: And not without cause, I say, they are faithfull: for oftentimes greater are the theeues which are receiuers, and treasurers, then are they that doe rob among the people. I leaue thee, my sonne, expert and ancient men, of whom thou maiest take counsell, and with whom thou maiest communicat thy troubles: for there can bee fourmed no honest thing in a Prince, vnlesse hee hath in his company auncient Princes are to accompanie Ancient men. men: for such giue grauitie to his person, and authoritie to his pallace: To inuent Theaters, to sish ponds, to chase wilde beasts in the forrests, to runne in the fields, to let thy haukes flye, and to exercise weapons, al these things we can denie thee, as to a yong man, and thou being yong, mayest reioice thy selfe in all these. Thou oughtest also to haue respect, that to ordaine armes, inuent warres, follow victories, accept truces, confirm peace raise bruites, to make lawes, to promote the one, and put down the others, to punish the euill, and first to reward the good, the counsell of all these things ought to bee taken of cleare iudgements, of persons, of experience, and of white heads. Thinkest thou not, that it is possible to passe the time with the yong, and to counsell with the old? The wife and discreet Princes, for all things haue time enough, if they know well how to measure it.
Beware my sonne, that they note thee not to vse great extremities: for the end and occasion why I speake it, is because thou shouldst know, if thou knowest not, that it is as vndecent a thing for a Prince, vnder the colour of granitie, to bee ruled and gouerned wholie by olde men, as vnder semblance of pastime, alwaies to accompanie himselfe with the yong: It is no generall rule, that all young men are light, nor all old men sage: [Page 552] And thou must according to my aduise, in such case vse it thus: if any old All young men are not light, nor all olde men sage. man lose the grauity of his age, expulse him from thee: if thou finde any young men sage, despise not their counsell: For the Bees doe drawe more honey out of the tender flowers, then of the hard leaues. I do not condemne the aged, nor I doe commend the young; but it shall bee well done, that alwayes thou choose of both the most vertuous: For of truth there is no company in the Worlde, so euill ordered, but that there is mean to liue with it, without any suspition: so that if the young are euill with solly, the olde are worse through couetousnesse.
Once againe, I returne to aduertise thee (my sonne) that in no wise thou vse extremitie: for if thou beleeue none but young, they will corrupt thy manners with lightnesse, and if thou beleeue none but the old, they will depraue thy iustice through couetousnesse, What thing can bee more monstrous, then that the prince which commaundeth all, should suffer him to be commaunded of one alone? Beleeue me sonne, in this case that the gouernements of many, are seldome times gouerned well by the Princes that rule many, must take counsell of many. head of one alone. The Prince which hath to rule and gouerne many, ought to take the aduise and counsell of many. It is a great inconuenience, that thou beeing Lord of many Realmes, shouldst haue but one gate, wherein all doe enter into to doe their businesse with thee: For if perchance he which shall be thy familiar, be of his owne nature good, and be not mine enemy: yet I would be afraid of him, because hee is a friend of mine enemies. And though for hate they doe me no euill, yet I am afraide that for the loue of another, he will cease to do me good. I remember that in the Annalles of Pompeius, I found a little booke of memories, which the great Pompeius bare about him, wherein were many things that he had reade, and other good counsels, which in diuers parts of the world he had lerned: and among other wordes there were these: The Gouernour of the Commonwealth which committeth all the gouernment to old men, deserueth very little, and hee that trusteth all young, is light: Hee that gouerneth it by himselfe alone, is beyond himselfe: and he which by himselfe and others doth gouerne it, is a wise Prince,
I know not whether these sentences are of the same Pompeius, or that hee gathered them out of some book, or that any Philosopher had told him them, or some friend of his had giuen him them. I meane, that I had them written with his hands, and truly they Weighty affayres are to be dispatched by counsell. deserued to bee written in letters of gold. When thy affayres shall bee waighty, see thou dispatch them alwayes by counsell: For when the affaires be determined by the counsell of many, the fault shall be diuided among them all. Thou shalt finde it for a truth (my sonne) that if thou take counsell of many, the one will tel the inconuenience, the other the perill, other the feare, the other the damage, the other the profite, and the other, the remedy: finally, they will so debate thy affayrs, that plainly thou shalt know the good, and see the danger thereof.
I aduertise thee (my son) that when thou takest counsel, thou behold with thy eyes the inconuenience, as well as the remedies which they shall offer vnto thee: for the true counsell consisteth not, to tell what they ought to doe, but to declare what thereof is like to succeede. When thou shalt enterprise (my son) great and weighty affayres, as much oughtest thou to regard the little dammages for to cutte them off in time, as the great mishaps [Page 553] to remedy them. For oftenttmes it chanceth, that for the negligence of taking vp a gutter, the whole house falleth to the ground. Notwithstanding, I tell thee, thou take counsell, I meane not, that thou oughtest to be so curious, as for euery trifle to cal thy counsell: for there are many thinges of such quality, that they would bee immediately put in execution: and they doe endammage themselues, attending for counsell. That which by thine own authority thou mayest dispatch without the dammage of the Common-wealth, referre it to no other person: and herein thou shalt be iust, and shalt doe iustice conformable: for considering that thy seruice dependeth onely of them, the reward which they ought to haue, ought to depend onely on thee.
I remember that when Marius the Consull came from the warres of Numedia, he diuided all the treasure hee brought among his souldiers, not putting one jewell into the common Treasurie. And when hereof hee was accused, for that he had not demaunded licence of the Senat: he answered them. It is not iust I take counsell with others, for to giue recompence to those, which haue not taken the opinions of others to serue me.
Thou shalt find my sonne, a kind of men, which are very hard of money, and exceeding prodigal of counsell. There are also diuers lenders, which without demaunding them, doe offer to giue it. With such like Whose coū sell is to be refused. men, thou shalt haue this counsell, neuer looke thou for good counsell at that man, whose counsell tendeth to the preiudice of another: for he offereth words to thy seruice, and trauelleth thy businesse to his owne profite. As the gods gaue me long life, of these things haue I had great experience, wherein I let thee know, that for the space of xv. yeares I was Consull, Senator, Censor, Pretor, Questor, Edil, and Tribune: and after all this, I haue beene 18. yeares Emperour of Rome, wherein all those which haue spoken most against me, touched the profite or damage of another. The chief intention of those which follow the Courts of Princes, are to procure to augment their houses. And if they cannot come to that, they seeke to diminish that of another, not for that any profite should follow vnto them thereof, be it neuer so little: but because mans malice is of such condition, that it esteemeth the profite of another his owne dammage.
They ought to haue great compassion of the Prince, for the most that follow him, serue him not for that they loue him, but for the gifts and rewards which they hope to haue of him. And this seemeth to be true, for the day that Princes shall cease to giue them, the selfe same day beginne they for to hate him. So that such seruants, wee cannot call friends of our persons, but couetous of our goods. That thou loue my sonne, the one aboue the other, thou mayest right well: but I aduertise thee, that thou, nor they do make any semblance, in such sort that all doe know it: for if thou doest otherwise, they will murmur at thee, & will all persecute thee.
Hee incurreth into no small perill, nor hath no little trouble, which is aboue all of the Prince beloued, and of the people hated. For then hee is hated and persecuted of all: and yet more damage ensueth vnto him: of the enmity of all: then doth of the loue of the Prince alone: for sometimes, the gods permitting it, and his behauior deseruing it, the prince doth cease to loue him, and therewith his enemies beginne to persecute him: From the time I knew what meaned to gouerne a Common weale, I haue alwayes determined, neuer to [Page 554] keepe man in my house one day after I knowe him to bee an enemie to the Common-wealth.
In the yeare of the Foundation of Rome, 649. Lucius Lucullus the Senatour going to the warres against Mythridates, by chaunce found a tablet of coppper, in the cittie called Trigane: the which was at the gate of the king of that Prouince. And on the same was engrauen certaine Caldean letters, the which in effect saide these words:
The Prince is not sage, who will put The marks of an vndiscreet prince or ruler. in hazzard the state of his Commonwealth, for the onely commoditie of one alone: For the seruice of one, can not auaile against the loue of all.
The Prince is not sage, that for to enrich one alone, seeketh to empouerish all: For it is a thing intollerable, that one doe labour the fields, and the other doe gather the fruite.
The Prince is not iust, which will satisfie the couetousnes of one, more then the seruices of all: For there is mean to pay the seruices of the good, and there is no Riches to satisfie the couetousnes of the euill. The prince is a foole that despiseth the counsell of all, and trusteth in the opinion of one. For though there bee in a great Ship, but one pilot, yet it needeth many mariners. Bolde is the Prince, which to loue one onely, wilbe hated of all: For noble Princes ought to think it much profite, to be beloued, and much more displeasure to be hated. These were the words which were written in that tablet, worthy of eternall memory. And I will tell thee further in this case, that Lucullus the Senatour sent on the one part that Tablet of copper, where these wordes were: & on the other part, the coffers wherein he had brought the riches, to the end the Senate should chose one, and leaue the other. The Senate despising the riches and Treasours, chose the Tablet of counsells.
CHAP. LVI. The Emperour followeth his matter, and exhorteth his Sonne vnto certaine particular things worthy to be engraued in the hearts of men.
VNtil now I haue spoken as a father to his Sonne, that which toucheth thy profit. Now I will tell thee what thou shalt doe after my death, for my seruice. And if thou wilt bee the true Sonne of thy Father, the things which I haue loued in my life, shall be of thee esteemed after my death: Do not resemble many Children, which after theyr Fathers haue closed their Eyes, doe remember them no more. For in such case, though indeede the Fathers be dead and buryed: yet they are alwaies liuing, to complaine to the Gods of their children.
Though it seemeth not to be slaunderous, yet it is more perilous to contend with the dead, then to iniure the liuing. And the reason is for that the liuing may reuenge, and are for to answere, It is more perillous to iniure the dead then the liuing. but the dead cannot make aunswer, and much lesse they can bee reuenged. And in such case the Gods do take their cause in protection: and somtimes they execute such cruell punishment of those that liue, that rather then they would endure it, rhey wish to be dead.
Thou oughtst to thinke (my Sonne) that I haue begoten thee, I haue nourished thee, I haue taught thee, I haue trymmed thee, I haue chastised thee, and I haue exalted thee.
And for this onely consideration, though by death I am absent: it is not reason that thou euer forget me: For the true, and not vnthankefull Childe, ought the same day to bury [Page 541] his Father in his tender hart, when others haue laide him in the harde graue. One of the visible chasticements The duty of a thankefull child. which the Gods giue to men in this world is, that the children obey not their Fathers in their life: For the selfe same fathers did not remember their owne fathers after their death. Let not young Princes thinke after they haue inherited, after they see their Father dead, and after they are past correction of their Masters, that all things ought to bee done as they themselues will it, for it wil not be so: For they want the fauour of the gods, and haue malediction of their fathers: they liue in trouble, & dye in danger. I require nought else of thee, my sonne, but that such a father as I haue been to thee in my life: such a sonne thou be to mee after my death. I commend vnto thee my sonne, the veneration of the Gods: and this chiefly aboue all things: for the Prince which maketh account of the gods, need not to feare any storm of fortune.
Loue the gods, and thou shalt bee beloued. Serue them, and thou shalt bee serued: Feare them, and thou shalt be feared, honour them, and thou shalt be honoured, Doe their commaundements, and they will giue thee thy hearts desire: for the gods are so good, that they doe not onely receiue in account that which we do: but also that which we desire to doe. I commend vnto thee (my sonne) the reuerence of the Temples, that is to say, that they be not in discord, that they be cleane and renued, that they offer therin the sacrifice accustomed: For wee doe not this honour, to the substance wherewith the Temples are made: but to the gods, to whome they are consecrated. I commend vnto thee the veneration of Priests, & Ministers are to bee honoured of all men. I pray thee, though they be couetous, auaritious, dissolute, vnpatient, negligent, and vitious: yet that they bee not dishonoured: for to vs others, it appertaineth, not to iudge of the life they lead as men: but wee must consider that they are mediators between the gods and vs.
Behold, my sonne, that to serue the Gods, honour the Temples, and reuerence the Priests, it is not a thing voluntary, but verie necessarie for Princes: For so long endured the glorie of the Greekes, as they were worshippers of their goods, and carefull of their temples. The vnhappy realm of Carthage was nothing more cowardly, nor lesse rich, then that of the Romanes, but in the ende of the Romaines, they were ouercome: because they were great louers of their treasures, and little worshippers of their Temples. I commend vnto thee (my sonne) Helia thy stepmother, and remember, though she be not thy mother, yet shee hath beene my wife. That which to thy mother Faustine thou oughtest for bringing thee into the world, the selfe same thou oughtest to Helia, for the good entertainement she hath shewed thee. And indeed, oftentimes I beeing offended with thee, shee maintained thee, and caused me to forget: so that shee by her good wordes, did winne againe that, which thou by thy euill workes didst lose. Thou shalt haue my curse if thou vsest her euill: and thou shalt A good admonition for children how to vse their stepmothers. fall into the ire of the Gods, if thou agreest that other doe not vse her well: For all the damage which shee shall feele, shall not bee, but for the inconuenience of my death, and iniury of thy person: For her Dowrie, I leaue her the tributes of Hestia, and the Orchards of Vulcanus, which I haue made to bee planted for her recreation.
Be thou not so hardy to take them from her: for in taking them from her, thou shalt shew thy wickednes, [Page 556] and in leauing them her, thy obedience, and in giuing her more, thy bounty and liberality. Remember (my sonne) that shee is a Romane woman, young, and a widdow, and of the house of Traiane my Lord, & that shee is thy mother adoptatiue, and my naturall wife: and aboue all, for that I leaue her recommended vnto thee. I commend vnto thee my sons in law, whom I will thou vse as parents and friends. And beware, that thou be not of those which are brethren in words, and cousins in workes: Bee thou assured that I haue willed so much good to my daughters, that the best which were in all the Countries, I haue chosen for their persons. And they haue beene so good, that if in giuing them my daughters, they were my sonnes in law: in loue I loued them as children.
I commend vnto thee my sisters and daughters, whom I leaue thee all married, not with strange Kings, but with naturall Senators. So that all dwell in Rome where they may doe thee seruices, and thou mayest giue them rewards and gifts. Thy sisters haue greatly inherited the beauty of thy mother Faustine: and haue taken little nature of their Father Marke.
But I sweare vnto thee that I haue giuen them such husbands, and to their husbands, such and so profitable counsailes, that they would rather lose their life then agree to any thing touching their dishonour.
Vse thy sisters in such fort that they be not out of fauour, for that their aged Father is dead, and that they become not proud for to see their brother Emperour. Women are of a very tender condition: for of small occasion they doe complaine, and of Women are of a tender condition. lesse they waxe proud. Thou shalt keepe them and preserue them after my death, as I did in my life: For otherwise, their conuersation to the people shall bee very noysome, and to thee very importunate. I commende vnto thee, Lipula thy youngest sister, which is inclosed within the Virgine Vestals, who was daughter of thy mother Faustine, whom so dearely I haue loued in life, and whose death I haue bewailed vntill my death. Euery yeere I gaue to thy sister sixe thousand sexterces for her necessities: and indeeed I had married her also, if shee had not fallen into the fire, and burnt her face. For, though she were my last, I loued her with all my heart. All haue esteemed her fall into the fire for euill lucke: but I doe count that euill lucke for good fortune. For her face was not so burned with coales as her rerenowne suffered perill among euill tongues.
I sweare vnto thee (my sonne) that for the seruice of the gods, and for the renowne of men: she is more sure in the temple with the Vestall Virgins, then thou art in the Senate with thy Senators. I suppose now that at the end of the iourney shee shall find her selfe better to be enclosed, then thou at liberty. I leaue vnto her in the prouince of Lucania, euery yeare sixe thousand sexterces: trauell to augment them for her, and not to diminish them. I commend vnto thee Drusia the Roman widdow, who hath a processe in the Senate: For in the times of the commotions past her husband was banished, and proclaymed Traytor. I haue great pitty of so noble and worthy a widdow: for it is now three monethes since shee hath put vp her complaint, & for the great warres I could not shew her iustice. Thou shalt finde my sonne) that in 35. yeares I haue gouerned in Rome, I neuer agreed that any widow should haue any sute before me aboue eight dayes: Be carefull to fauour and dispatch the orphans and widdows: for the needy widdow, in what place soeuer [Page 557] they be, do incur into great danger. Not without cause I aduertise thee, that thou trauell to dispatch thē so soone as thou mayest: and to administer iustice vnto them: for throgh the prolonging of beautifull womens suites, their honour and credite is diminished: so that their businesse being prolonged, they shall not recouer so much of their goods as they shall lose of their renowme. I commend vnto thee (my sonne) my olde seruants, which with my yong yeeres, and my cruell wars, with my great necessities, with the cumbrance of my body, and my long disease, haue had great trouble: and as faithful seruants oftentimes to ease me, haue annoyed themselues. It is conuenient since I haue profited of their life, that they should not lose by my death. Of one thing I assure thee, that though my body remaine with the worms in the graue: yet before the gods I will remember them. And herein thou shalt shew thy selfe to be a good child, whē thou shalt recompence those which haue serued thy Father well.
All Princes which shall do iustice Princes that doe iustice, doe get enemies in the execution thereof. shall get enemies in the execution thereof. And sith it is done by the hands of those which are neere him, the more familiar they are with the Prince, the more are they hated of the people: all in generall doe loue iustice but none do reioyce that they execute it in his house. And therfore after the Prince endeth his life, the people will take reuenge of those which haue beene ministers thereof. It were great infamy to the Empire, offence to the gods, iniurie to mee, vnthankefulnes to thee, hauing found the armes of my seruants, ready eighteene yeers, that thy gates should be shut against them one day.
Keepe, keepe these things (my sonne) in thy memory: and since particularly I doe remember them at my death, consider how heartily I loued them in my life.
CHAP. LVII. The good Marcus Aurelius Emperour of Rome, endeth his purpose and life: And of the last words which he spake to his sonne Commodus, and of the table of Counsels which he gaue him.
WHen the Emperor had ended his particular recommendations The Emperour here concludeth his speech, and endeth his life. vnto his sonne Commodus, as the dawning of the day beganne to appeare: so his eyes beganne to close, his tongue to faulter, and his handes to tremble, as it doth accustome to those, which are at the point of death. The Prince perceyuing then little life to remaine, commaunded his Secretary Panutius to goe to the coffers of his bookes, and to bring one of the coffers before his presence: out of the which hee tooke a table of 3. foote of bredth, and 2. of length, the which was of Eban, bordered all about, with Vnicorne. And it was closed with 2. lids very fine, of red wood, which they call rasing, of a tree where the Phenix (as they say) breedeth, which did grow in Arabia. And as there is but one onely Phenix, so in the world is there but one onely tree of that sort. On the vttermost part of the Table, was grauen the god Iupiter, and on the other the goddesse Venus: and in the other was drawne the god Mars, and the goddesse Diana. In the vppermost part of the table, was carued a Bull, and in the nethermost part was drawne a King. And they sayde the painter of so famous and renowmed [Page 558] a worke, was called Apelles.
The Emperour taking the Table in his handes, casting his eyes vnto his Sonne, said these words: Thou seest my sonne, how from the turmoyles of Fortune I haue escaped, and how I into miserable destinies of death do enter, where by experience I shall know what shall be after this life.
I meane not now to blaspheme the Gods, but to repent my sinnes. But I would willinglie declare why the Gods haue created vs: since there is such trouble in life, and paine in death. Not vnderstanding why the Gods haue vsed so great crueltie with creatures. I see it now, in that after lxij. yeares, I haue sayled in the daunger and perill of this life: now they commaund mee to land, and harbour in the graue of death.
Now approcheth the houre wherein the band of Matrimonie is loosed, the threede of Life vntwined, the key Death altereth all things. doth locke, the sleepe is wakened, my life doth ende, and I goe out of this troublesome paine.
Remembring mee of that I haue done in my life, I desire no more to liue: but for that I knowe not whether I am carryed by death. I feare and refuse his darts. Alas what shall I doe, since the Gods tell mee not what I shall do? What counsell shall I take of any man, since no man will accompanie mee in this iourney?
Oh what great disceipt? Oh what manifest blindnes is this, to loue one thing all the dayes of our life, and to cary nothing with vs after our death?
Because I desired to be rich, they let me dye poore: Because I desired to liue with companie, they let me die alone. For such shortnes of life, I know not what hee is, that will haue a house: since the narrow graue is our certaine mansion place? Belieue mee my sonne, that manie things past doe grieue mee sore: but with nothing so much I am troubled, as to come so late to the knowledge of this life: For if I could perfectly belieue this, neyther should men haue cause to reproue me, neyther yet I now such occasion to lament me
Oh how certaine a thing is it, that men when they come to the point of death, doe promise the Gods, that if they prerogue their death, they will amend their life? but notwithstanding: I am sorry that we see them deliuered from death, without any manner of amendment of life.
They haue obtained that, which of the Gods they haue desired: and haue not performed that which they haue prornised. They ought assuredly to thinke, that in the sweetest time of their life, they shall be constrained to Deferring of the punishment is not the pardoning of the fault. accept death. For, admit that the punishment of ingrate persons be deferred: yet therefore the fault is not pardoned.
Be thou assured (my Sonne) that I haue seene ynough, hearde, selte, tasted, desired, possessed, eaten, slept, spoken, and also liued ynough. For, vices giue as great troubles to those which follow them much: as they do great desire to those which neuer proued them. I confesse to the immortall Gods, that I haue no desire to liue: yet I ensure thee, I would not die. For, life is so troublesome that it wearyeth vs: and Death is so doubtfull, that it feareth vs. If the Gods deferred my death, I doubt whether I should reforme my life? And if I do not amend my life, nor serue the gods better, nor profit the commonwealth more: and if that euery time I am sick, it should grieue mee to dye: I say it is much better for mee now to accept death, then to wish the lengthening of my life. I say the life is so troublesom, so fickle, so suspicious, so vucertaine, and so importunate. Finally I say, it is a life without life: that hee is an obstinate [Page 559] foole, which so much desireth it. Come that that may come: for finally, notwithstanding that I haue spoken, I willingly commit selfe into the hands of the gods, since of necessitie I am therunto constrained: For it proceedeth not of a little wisedome, to receiue that willingly, which to doe wee are constrained of necessitie.
I will not recommend my selfe to the Priests, nor cause the Oracles to be visited, nor promise any thing to the temples, nor offer sacrifices to the gods, to the end they should warrant me from death, and restore mee to life: but I will demaund and require them, that if they haue created The wisedome of God in disposing his gifts. mee for any good thing, I may not lose it for my euill life. So wise and sage are the gods in that they say, so iust & true in that they promise, that if they giue vs not that which wee others would: it is not for that they will not, but because wee deserue it not: for wee are so euill, and worth so little, and we may doe so little, that for many good works wee deserue no merite, and yet with and euill worke wee be made vnworthy of all: Since therefore I haue put my selfe into the hands of the gods, let them doe with me what they will for their seruice for in the end, the worst that they will do, is much better then the world wil do: For all that the world hath giuen me, hath beene but mockery and deceite: but that which the gods haue giuen mee, I haue gouerned and possessed without snspition: For this last houre (my sonne) I haue kept the best, the most noble, and richest iewell that I haue possessed in my life time, and I doe protest vnto the immortall gods, that if as they doe commaund mee to die, they would giue me lieence to reade in the graue, I would command it to be buried with me.
Thou shalt know my sonne, that in in the tenth yeare of my Empire, a great warre arose against the vnrulie people of Persia, where by euill lucke it was appointed for mee, in person to giue the battell: the which wonne, and all their Countrey destroyed, I returned by the olde City of Thebes in Egypt, to see if I could finde any antiquitie of those in times past. In the house of an Egyptian Priest, I found a little table which they hanged at the gate of the Kinges pallace the day of his Coronation.
And this poore Priest tolde mee, that that which was in his table, was written by a king of Egypt, named Ptholomeus Arasides. I beseech the immortall god, my sonne, that such bee thy works, as the words of this table require. As Emperour, I leaue thee heyre of many Realmes: and as a father I giue thee this Table of Counsels.
The words which the Fathers do teach vnto the children at the last houre, the children ought to keepe continually in their memory. Let this therefore be my last word, with the Empire thou shalt be feared through out all the World: and with the counsels of this Table thou shalt bee loued of all Nations.
This talke being ended, and the table giuen, the Emperour turned his eyes, lost his sences, and for the space of a quarter of an houre, lay languishing in extreame paine, and within a while after yeelded vp the Ghost. In this table were certaine Greeke Letters which weere in meeter, and in our tongue signifie thus.
THE FOVRTH BOOKE OF THE DIALL OF PRINCES, COMPILED By the Right Reuerend Father in God, ANTONIE of Gueuara, Bishop of Mondogueto, Preacher, Chronicler, and Councellor to CHARLES the fift, Emperour of ROME.
Containing many Instructions and Rules for the fauoured of the Court, being once in fauour, easily to keepe and continue themselues in fauour still. Very necessary and profitable for all Princes and Noble men, and Gentlemen Courtiers, that seeke to continue themselues in honour and estimation.
LONDON, Imprinted by Bernard Alsop. 1619.
THE EPISTLE TO THE READER,
WHat detracting tongues report of mee, and my first trauell in the translation of this Dyall, enlarging them at pleasure to work my defame disabling my doing herein, by brute it was no worke of mine, but the fruit of others labour: I need not much force, since by dayly proofe wee see, that ill disposed minds can neuer frame an honest tongue of head. For my obiect and reproof of this their slaunderous and malignant speech: I can alleadge (courteous Reader) two principall causes, which thou reading, & iudging with indifferency, mayest easilie aproue, if I should seem to glose with thee. First the basenesse of my Stile, the plain & humble words couched in the same, the meane, rude, and ill contriued sentences layde before thee, together with the simple handling of the whole, plainely sheweth to thee whence they are, and easily acquainteth thee with the curious Translator: Who protesteth to God, and confesseth to the world, that hee more rashly then wisely plunged himself into so graue and deepe a matter, and whose young yeeres and vnskilfull head, might both then and now haue excused his fond enterprises herein.
For the second, and last, I must needs appeale to all the worshipfull, and my bebeloued companions, and fellow students of our house of Lincolnes Inne at that time, from whence my poore English Diall tooke his light.
To whose iust and true reports (for thy vndoubted satisfaction and discharge of my poore honesty) I refer thee, and wholy yeeld me.
These recited causes for purgation of my suspected fame, as also for established assurance of the like, and thy further doubt of mee hereafter.
I thought good, Gentle Reader, to denounce vnto thee. I might well haue spared this second and last labour of mine, taken, in the rformation and correction of this Diall, enlarging my selfe further once againe, with the translation of the late and new come fauoured Courtier, and which I found annexed to the Diall for the 4. and last booke, If my proceeding trauell taken in the setting forth of the first three bookes, and the respect of mine honesty in accomplishing of the same had not incited mee (vnwillingly) to continue my first begunne attempt, to bring the same to his perfect and desired end, which whole worke is now compleat by this last booke, intituled, the fauored Courtier, which first & last volume wholly as it lyeth, I prostrate to the iudgemēt of the graue and wise Reader, subiecting my self and it, to the reformation and correction of his learned head, whom I beseech to iudge of mee with fauour and equity, and not with malice to persecute my fame and honest intent, hauing for thy benefite, to my little skill and knowledge imployed my simple talent, crauing no other [Page 562] guerdon of thee but thy good report, and courteous acceptance hereof.
Which doing thou shalt make me double bound to thee. First to be thankefull for thy good will. Secondly, to bee considerate how hereafter I take vpon mee so great a charge.
Thirdly, thou shalt encourage mee to encrease my talent.
Fourthly, and lastly, most freely to bestow the encrease thereof on thee, and for the benefite of my Country and Common-wealth, whereunto duety bindeth mee: Obseruing the sage and prudent saying of the renowmed Oratour and famour Cicero: with which I end, and there to leaue thee.
Non nobis solum natisumus, ortusque nostri partem patria vendicat, partem parentes, partem amici.
In defence and preseruation whereof (good Reader) wee ought not alone to imploy our whole wits and able sences, but necessity enforcing vs, to sacrifice our selues also for benefite thereof.
THE PROLOGVE OF THIS PRESENT WORKE SHEWeth what one true friend ought to doe for an other: Addressed to the Right Honourable the Lord Fraunces Cenos, great Commaunder of LYON.
THe famous Philosopher Plato besought of all his Disciples to tell them, why he iournyed so oft frō Athens to Scicile, being the way hee trauelled (indeed) very long, and the sea he passed very dangerous: answered them thus. The cause that moues mee to goe from Athens to Scicile, is onely to see Phocion, a man iust in all that he doth, and wise in all that hee speaketh: and because he is my very friend, and enemy of Denys, I go also willingly to him, to ayde him in that I may, and to counsell him in all that I know: and tolde them further.
I let you vnderstand my Disciples, that a good Philosopher, to visite and helpe his friend, and to accompany with a good man, should thinke the iourney short, and no whit painefull, though he should sulke the whole seas The painefull iourney the Philosophers booke to vi [...]t good [...]en. and pace the compasse of the earth. Appolonius Thianeus departed from Rome, went through all Asia, sailed ouer the great floud Nile, endured the bitter colde of Mount Caucasus, suffered the parching heate of the mountaines Riphei, passed the land of Nassagera, entred into the great India: and this long pilgrimage tooke hee vpon him, in no other respect, but to see Hyarcus the Philosopher, his great & old friend.
Agesilaus also among the Greekes accounted a worthy Captaine vnderstanding that the King Hicarius had another Captaine (his very friende) Captiue: leauing all his owne affayres apart, trauelling through diuers Countries, went to the place, whete hee was, and arriued there, presented himselfe vnto the King, and sayde thus vnto him.
I humbly beseech thee, O puissant King, that thou vouchsafe to pardon Minotus my sole and onely friend, and thy subiect now: for what thou shalt doe to him, make thy account thou hast done it to me: For in deed thou canst neuer alone punish his body, but thou shalt therewith also crucifie my heart.
King Herod after Augustus had ouercome Marke Antonie, came to Rome, and laying his Crowne at the Emperiall foote, with stout courage spake these words vnto him. Know thou, mighty Augustus, if thou knowest it not, that if Marke Antony had beleeued mee, and not his accursed [Page 564] loue Cleopatra, thou shouldest then haue proued how bitter an enemy I would haue beene to thee, and hee haue found how true a friend I was, and yet am to him. But hee, as a man rather giuen ouer to the rule of a womans will, then guided by reasons skill, tooke of me but money onely, and of Cleopatra coonsell.
And proceeding further, sayde, Loe here my kingdome, my person, and royal crowne layde at thy princely feet, all which I freely offer to thee, to dispose of at thy will and pleasure, pleasing thee so to accept it, but yet with this condition (Inuict Augustus) that thou commaund mee not to heare, nor speake ill of Marke Antony my Lord and friend, yea, although he were now dead. For know thou, sacred Prince, that true friendes neyther for death ought to bee had in obliuion, nor for absence to be forsaken.
Iulius Caesar last Dictator and first Emperour of Rome, did so entirely loue Cornelins Fabatus the Consull, that trauelling together through the Alpes of France, and beeing benighted, The properties of a true friende. farre from any towne or harbor, saue that only of a hollow caue, which happily they lighted on: And Cornelius the Consull, euen then not well at ease, Iulius Caesar left him the whole caue, to the end he might bee more at rest, and he himselfe lay abroad in the cold and snow.
By these godly examples we haue recited, and by diuers others wee could recite, may bee considered, what faithfull friendshippe ought to be betwixt true and perfect friendes, & into how many dangers one friend ought to put himselfe for another: for it is not enough, that one friend be sory for the troubles of another, but hee is bound (if neede were) to goe and dye ioyfully with him.
He onely, deseruedly, may bee counted a true friend, that vnasked, and before hee bee called, goeth with his goods and person to helpe and relieue his friend. But in this our yron age, alas, there is no such kinde of amity, as that wee haue spoken of. More then this, that there is no friend will part with any thing of his to releeue his friend, much lesse that taketh care to fauour him in his troubles: but if there be any such that will helpe his friend, it is euen then when time serueth rather to pitty and lament him, then to ayde or succour him.
It is a thing worth the knowledge, that to make a true and perpetuall friendshippe, we may not offer to many persons, but according to Seneca, his saying, who saith: My friend Lucillus, I counsell thee that thou be a true friend to one alone, and enemy to none: for numbers of friends brings great incumbrance, which seemeth somewhat to diminish friendship: For who that considereth the liberty of the heart, it is vnpossible that one should frame and agree with the conditions of many, & much lesse that many should content them with the desires and affections of one.
Tully and Salust were two famous Orators amongst the Romanes, and great enemies betweene themselues, and during this emulation betweene them. Tully had purchased all the Senators friendshippe, and Salust onely had no other friend in all Rome, but Marke Antony alone,
And so these two great Orators beeing one day at words together: Tully in great anger sayde to Salust: What force or power art thou of, or what euill canst thou doe or attempte against mee? sith thou knowest that in all Rome thou hast but one onely friend, Marke Antony, and I no enemie but one, and that is he? To whom Salust answered:
Thou gloriest (O Tully) that thou hast no moe but one onely enemy, and afterwards iests at mee, that I haue no [Page 565] more Friends but onely me: but I hope in the immortall Gods, that this onely Enemie thou hast, shall bee able enough vtterly to vndoe thee: and this my sole Friend that I haue, shall bee sufficient to protect and defende mee in all my causes.
And shortly after these words passed betweene tham, Marke Anthonie shewed the friendship hee bare to the one, and the enmitie hee had to the other. For, he caused Tullie to be put to death, and raysed Salust to great honour.
A Friend may well imparte to the other, all his owne, as bread, wine, money, time, conuersation, and such like, but hee cannot notwithstanding giue him part of his heart: for that suffereth it not to be parted nor deuided, because it cā be giuē but to one alone.
This graunted to bee true, as needs it must, doubtles that the heart cannot bee deuided, but onely giuen to one: then is it of necessitie, that hee that will seeke to haue many Friends, must needs repaire to the shambles to prouide him of many hearts.
Many vaunt themselues, and thinke it a glory to haue numbers of friends, but let such well consider to what vse that legendarie of Friendes doe serue them, they shall then easily finde they stand them in no oeher steede, but to eate, to drinke, to walke, to babble, and to murmure togethers, and not one to helpe the other, with their goods, fauour, and credite at their neede, nor friendly to reprooue them of theyr faults and vices, which doubtles ought not to bee so.
For, where true and perfect friendship raigneth, neyther I with my friend, nor hee with mee should dissemble any vice of faulte.
Ouide sayth in his booke De Arte amandi, that the law of true and vnfained Loue is so streight, that no friendship but mine in thy heart should harbour: and in mine should lodge none others loue but thine, for loue is none What Loue is. other thing, But one heart, liuining in two bodyes, and two bodyes obeying in one heart.
In this World there is no treasure comparable to a true and sure Friend, sith to a faithfull▪ Friende a man may safely discouer the secrets of his heart, bewray vnto him his gryping griefes, trusting him with his honour, committing to his guyde and custodie all his goods, hee shall succour him in his miserie, counsell him in perill, reioyce at his prosperitie, and mourne at his aduersitie: And in fine I conclude, such a friend neuer wearyeth to serue him in his life, nor to lament him after his death.
I graunt that Golde and Siluer is good, Kinsefolkes are good, and Money is good: but true friends exceede them all without comparison.
For all these things cannot warrant vs from necessitie (if sinister Fortune plunge vs into it) but rather encrease our torments and extreamitie. Also they doe not reioyce vs, but rather heape further griefes vpon vs: neither doe they succour vs, but rather eache houre giue vs cause to complaine, and much lesse do they remember and aduise vs of that that is good, but still doe deceyue vs, not directing vs the right way, but still bringing vs out of our way: and when they haue led vs awry out of the High-way, they bring vs into Desart woods, and high, and dangerous mountaines, whence from we must fall downe headlong.
A true friend is no partaker of these conditions, but rather hee is sorry for the least trouble that happeneth to his friend, hee feareth not, neither spareth his goods, nor the daunger of his person, he careth not to take vpon him any painfull iourney, quarrels, or sutes, nor yet to put his life in euery hazard of death.
[Page 566] And yet that that is most of all to bee esteemed is, that like as the heart and bowels euer burne with pure and sincere loue, so doth hee wish and desire with gladsome mind to beare the burthen of all his friends mishaps, yea more then yet is spoken of.
Alexander the Great, offered great presents to the Philosopher Zenocrates, who would not vouchsafe to receyue them, much lesse to beholde them. And beeing demaunded of Alexander, why he would not receyue them, hauing poore kinsfolkes and parents to bestow them on: hee answered him thus.
Truely, I haue both brothers and sisters (O Alexander) yet I haue no kinsman but him that is my friend, and one onely friend I haue, who hath no need of A remarkeable saying of Zenocrates, any gifts to bee giuen him. For the onely cause why I chose him to be my sole and only friend, was for that I euer saw him spise these worldly things.
Truly the sentence of this good Philosopher Zenocrates is of no small efficacy for him that will aduisedly consider of it, sith that not seldome, but many times it happeneth, that the great troubles, the sundry dangers, & the continuall necessities and miseries wee suffer in this vale of misery, haue for the most part procceded from our parents, and afterwards by our friends haue beene mediated and redressed. Therefore since wee haue thought it good and necessary to chose a friend, and that hee bee but one onely, each man must bee wise, lest in such choise hee be deceyued. For oft times it happeneth, that those that take little regarde herein, grant their friendship to such a one as is too couetous impatient, a great babler, seditious, and presumptuous, and of such conditions that sometimes it should be lesse euill for vs to haue him our enemie, then to account of him as of our deer friend.
Him whom wee will chuse for our faithfull friend, amongst other manners and conditions, hee must chiefly, and before all bee indued with these, Great eate is to bee had in choosing a friend. that he be courteous of nature, fayre spoken, hard and stout to indure pain, patient in troubles, sober in diet, moderate in his words, graue and ripe in his counsels, and aboue all stedfast in friendshippe, and faithfull in secrets: And whom wee shall find with these laudable vertues and conditions adorned, him may wee safely take and accept for our friend. But if wee see any of these parts wanting in him, wee ought to shun him, as from the plague knowing for certainety, that the friendshippe of a fayned and fantasticall friend is much worse and perillous, then the enmity of a knowne and open enemy: for to the hands of one wee commit our heart and faith, and from the deceites and treasons of the other wee defend our selues with our whole force and power.
Seneca writing to his deere and faithfull friend Lucillus sayeth vnto him. I pray thee (O Lucillus) that thou order and determine thine affayres by the aduice and counsell of thy friend, but also I doe remember thee: that first thou see well what manner of friend thou hast chosen thee: for there is no marchandise in the world this day, that men are so soone beguiled in, as they are in the choise of friends. Therfore the graue sentence of Seneca wisely wayed, wee should assent with him in opinion, that sith no man buyeth a Horse, but hee first causeth him to bee ridden, nor bread, but first hee seeth and handleth it, nor wine but hee tasteth it, nor flesh but first he wayeth it, nor corne but hee seeth a sample, nor house but hee doth first value it, nor Instrument but that first hee playeth on it, and iudgeth of his sound: It is but reason hee [Page 571] should be so much the more circumspect before hee choose his Friend to examine his life and condition, since all the other things wee haue spoken of, may bee put in diuers houses and corners, but our Friend we lodge and keepe deerely in our proper be wells.
Those that write of the Emperour Augustus say, that he was very strange and scrupulous in accepting Friends, but after hee had once receyued them into his friendship, hee was very constant and circumspect to keepe them. For hee neuer had any friend, but first he had some proofe and tryall of him, neyther would hee euer after forsake him, for any displeasure done to him. Therefore it shold alwayes be so, that true friends should beare one to an other such loue and affection, that the one beeing in prosperitie, should not haue occasion to complaine of himselfe, in that hee did not relieue his friends necessitie, being in aduersitie: nor the other being poore and needy, should grudge or lament for that his friend being rich and wealthie, would not succour him, with all that hee might haue done for him. For to say the trueth, where perfect friendship is, there ought no excuse to be made, to doe what possible is, the one for the other.
The friendship of young men commeth commonly (or for the most part at the least) by beeing companions in vice and follie: and such of right ought rather to be called vacabonds, then once to deserue the name of true friends. For, that cannot bee called true friendship, that is continued to the preiudice or derogation of vertue.
Seneca writing againe to Lucillus, saith these words. I would not haue thee thinke, nor once mistrust, O my Lucillus, that in all the Romaine Empire I haue any greater Friende then thuo: but with all, assure thy selfe, that our Friendship is not so straight between vs, that I would take vpon mee at any time to doe for thee otherwise then honesty should lead mee.
For though that loue I beare thee, The saying of Seneca, touching frindship. hath made thee Lord of my libertie: yet reason also hath left mee vertue free.
The Authour proceedeth on.
Applying that wee haue spoken, to that wee will now declare, I say I will not acknowledge my selfe your seruant, for so should I bee compelled to feare you more then loue you: much lesse will I vaunt my selfe to bee your Kins-man: for so I should importune and displease you: and I will not brag that heretofore wee haue beene of familiar acquaintaunce, for that I would not make any demonstration, I made so little account of you, and lesse then I am bound to doe: neyther will I boaste my selfe that I am at this present your familiar and welbeloued: For indeed I should then shew my selfe to bee too bolde and arrogant: but that, that I will confesse, shall be, that I loue you as a Friend, and you mee as a Kins-man, albeeit this friendship hath succeeded diuersly till now. For you being Noble as you are, haue bountifully shewed your friendship to mee, in large and ample gifts: but I poore, and of base estate, haue onely made you sure of mine in wordes.
Plutarch in his politikes sayd: That it were far better to fell to our friends our workes and good deedes, whether they were (in prosperitie, aduersitie, or necessitie) then to feede them with vaine Flattering wordes for nothing:
Yet it is not so generall a rule, but that sometimes it happeneth, that the loftie and high words on the one side are so profitable, and the workes so few and feeble, on the other side, that [Page 572] one shal be better pleased and delighted, with hearing the sweete and curteous wordes of the one, then he shall be, to be serued with the colde seruice and workes of the other, of small profite and value.
Plutarche also in his booke De animalibus telleth vs: that Denis the Tyrant beeing one day at the Table, reasoning of diuers and sundrie matters with Chrysippus the Phylosopher, it chaunced, that as hee was at dinner, one brought him a present of certaine Sugar-cakes: wherefore Chrysippus ceasing his former discourse, fell to perswade Denis to fall to his cakes. To whome Denis aunswered, on with your matter Chrysippus, and leaue not off so: For my heart is better contented with thy sweete and sugred wordes, then my Tongue is pleased with the delicate taste of these mountain-cakes. For as thou knowest, these cakes are heauie of digestion, and doe greatly annoy the stomack: but good Good workes doe maruellously cheare the heart. workes doe meruellously reioyce and comfort the heart.
For this cause Alexander the great had the poet Homer in greater veneration (beeing dead) then all the other that were aliue in his time: not for that Homer euer did him seruice, or that hee knew him, but onely because of his learned Bookes hee wrote and compiled: and for the graue sentences he found therein. And therefore he bare about him in the day time the booke of the famous deedes of Troy, (called the Illyades) hanged at his neck within his bosome: and in the night hee layde it vnder his bolster, at his beds-head where hee slept.
In recompence therefore (Syr) of the many good turnes I haue receyued at your hands, I was also willing to compyle and dedicate this my little Treatise to you, the which I present you with all my desires, my studyes, my watches, my sweatte, and my troubles, holding my selfe fully satisfyed for all the paines I haue taken, so that this my simple trauell be gratefull vnto you (to whom I offer it) and to the publike weale profitable. Being well assured, if it please you to trust me and credite my wryting, you shall manifestly know how freely I spake to you, and like a friend, and not deceyue you as a flatterer.
For, if the beloued and Fauourites of Princes, chaunce to bee cast out of fauour, it is because euery man flattereth him, and seeketh to please him, and no man goeth about to tell him trueth: nor that, that is for his honour, and fittest for him.
Salust in his booke of the warres of Iugurtha sayth: that the high heroycall facts and deedes were of no lesse glorie to the Hystoriographers that wrote them, then they were to the captaine that did them.
For it happeneth many times, that the Captaine dying in the battell hee hath wonne, liueth afterwardes notwithstanding, by the Fame of his noble attempt: And this proceedeth not only of the valiant deeds of Arms he was seene doe, but also for that wee read of him in worthy Authors which haue written thereof.
Wee may well say therefore (touching this matter) that as well may wee take him for a true friend, that giueth good counsell, as hee which doeth vs great pleasure and seruice. For according to the opinion of the good Emperor Marcus Aurelius, who who saide to his Secretarie Panutius, that a man with one pay, may make full satisfaction and recompence of many pleasures and good turns shewed: but to requite a good counsell, diuers thankes, and infinite seruices are requisite.
If we will credite the ancient Hystoriographers, wee shall finde it true, that the most Noblest and vertuous [Page 573] Emperours, the fortunate Kings, and the valiant Captaines, when they should enterprise to go conquer their enemies, eyther they sought for some Philosopher, or they chose some other honest learned man, of whome they tooke counsell touching all their affayres, before they prest any Souldiers.
Comparing the times past, with The times past better then the times present. the times present, wee thinke (that haue read somewhat) that the time past was as pure graine, and this now as chaffe and straw: that one as the time calme, and still in the sea, and this as wauering and tempestuous: that then the fine and pure mertal, and this now the drosse thereof. The other, the marie, and this the bones: the one the cleare day, and the other the darke night. For in these dayes, in Princes Courts, and noble mens houses, they glory more to haue a scoffing knaue or iester to make them laugh, then they reckon of a graue and wise man to giue them counsell.
Alexander the Great in all his wars would alwayes be accompanied with the wise Aristotle.
Cyrus King of Persia, with the Philosopher Chilo: King Ptholomie, with Pithinns the Philosopher: Pyrrhus King of Epyre, with Zatirus, Augustus the Emperour with Simonides: Scipio the African with Sophocles, Traian the Emperour with Plutarch, and Antoninus the Emperour with Gorgias: Now all these famous Princes carried not with them so many learned Philosophers, to fight in battell with armed weapon in hand like other their Souldiers, but onely to vse their counsell and aduise: so that the great battels they ouerthrew, and the worthy victories they wan, with the noble triumphes done, was as much by the graue counsell of these good and wise Philosophers, as by the force of their army, and prowes of their captaines.
The greatest good turne and benefit one friend can doe for another, is to know to giue good counsell to his friend in his greatest neede: and not without cause, I say, to giue counsell: For it happeneth oft times, that those that thought to haue giuen vs good remedy by their counsell, (wanting indeed discretion & iudgement in the same) haue caused vs to runne into further dangers.
And therefore Seneca beeing once demaunded of the Emperour Nero, what he thought of Scipio the Affrican, and Cato the Censor, aunswered him in this manner.
I thinke it was as necessary that Cato was borne for the Commonwealth, as Scipio for the warres, for the good Cato with his prudent counsell expelled vice out of the Wealepublike: and the other with his noble courage and great armies did euer withstand the force of the enemies:
According to the saying of Seneca, let vs also say after him, that hee is very arrogant that presumes to giue an other counsell; but withall, wee say againe, that if the counsell be found good, hee hath giuen to his friend in his need and necessity, as much praise deserueth he that gaue it, as he that knew how to take it.
Now after the example of the ancient Philosophers, which went to the warres, not to fight, but onely to giue counsell, I will (sir) for those things that pertaine to your seruice, and profite, take vpon mee the office of a Philosopher; and for the first doctrine of my Philosophie, I say, that if it please you, to receiue these counsels which my penne doth write vnto you, at this present. I promise you, & by the faith of a Christian man, I sweare, that they shall bee such excellent helpes to you, for the preseruation [Page 574] of your credite and fauour you are now in, as you may bee enriched by the true and diligent seruice of your seruants For if a man woulde with an oath aske the truth of Plato, Socrates, Pythagoras, Diogenes, Lycurgus, Chilo, Pittachus, and of Apolonius: and also of all the vniuersity and company of the other Philosophers, they would sweare and affirme, that the felicitie of man consisteth not in great might, in great authority, and possessions: but onely in deseruing much: For the honor, fauour, and dignities of this mortall life, are more to be praysed, and had in veneration, when they are placed in a condigne & worthy person, then they are being possessed of an vnworthy and gracelesse man, allotted to him, not by vertue, but by fortune: And therefore your authority being great at this present, exalted thereto by Gods diuine will and prouidence, and now in the highest degree of prosperity: I would wish you, my good Lord, lesse then any other Courtier, to trust to fortunes impery: For if the earthquakes sooner bring to ground the proud and stately pallaces, then the meane and lowe houses: if ofter fall the highest mountaines, the dreadfull lightnings, and tempests, then on the lowest hilles: if among the greater multitude of people the plagues be rifer, then amongst the fewer number: if they vse rather to spread their nets, and lay the birdlime on the greene and thickest bows then on the drye and withered sticks: to snare the seely birds withall: If alwayes the stillest seas doe foreshew to vs a greater tempest following, and if that long health bee a watch vnto a great and dangerous sicknesse ensuing: by this also I will infer, that those that are atchieued to sublime estate, and high degree, are commonly more subiect to fall, then those of meaner & baser sot.
The Emperour Augustus on a time demaunded of the Poet Virgill, that hee would teach him how hee might conserue himselfe in the Empire, and alwayes bee acceptable to the publike A question demaunded by the Emperour Augustus of Virgil, and his answere. weale.
To whom Virgil aunswered. I I thinke, O mighty Caesar, that to raigne long in the Empire, thou must considerately looke into thy seife, examining thy life and doings: and how much thou shalt see thy selfe excell, and exceede all those (of thy Empire) in dignity: So much more must thou endeauour thy selfe to surmount all others in vertue and worthinesse: for hee is vnworthy to rule a multitude, that is not chiefe himselfe in all vertues.
Those therefore that in Court of Princes beare office and authoritie, ought earnestly to desire and endeauour themselues to auoyde the filthy sinke of vice, and to seeke the cleare Spring of vertue: For otherwise, they shall bee more defamed for one vice or defect found in them, then honoured for their office and authority they haue.
The Author concludeth.
According to the saying of the Poet Virgill to the Emperour Augustus, I am also of opinion (my Lord) that you ought to bee very circumspect, and well aduised, in looking into your selfe who you are, what power you are of, what you are worth, and what you possesse: and doing thus, you shall find that among your wise Counsellours you are the greatest, among the rich, among the best esteemed, among the most fortunate, among your Secretaries, among the Rulers, amongst all those of your Realme and Subiects, you are euer [Page 571] the greatest. And therefore as you are greatest, and supreme aboue them all: so you ought the more to force to bee the most vertuous of them all: For els it were against al reason, being the greatest, to be the least, and most inferior of all: For truly none ought to be praysed for good, for that he is of power, force, possessions, wealth, much worth, in fauour of dignitie, neyther for any nobilitie that is in him, if these naturall gifts bee not accompanied with vertue and good works.
The ancient Historiographers do highly commend the greatnesse of Alexander, the knowledge of Ptholomie, the iustice of Numa Pompilius, the clemency of Iulius Caesar, the patience of Augustus, the truth of Traian, the pitty of Anteninus, the temperancie of Constantius, the continency of Scipio, and the humanity of Theodosius: so that we may say these so great and noble Princes haue wonne more honour by their vertues, then they haue atchieued by triumphant victories: albeit a man bee neuer so dishonest, vicious Sinne is not so pleasaot in the committing, as it is likesome in the remembrāce and lasciuious, and that he bee rooted in all idlenes; let vs say and auouch it for a truth, that it is impossible (if he may returne to looke backe on himselfe, and that hee may call to mind what manner of man hee hath beene, what he is at this present, and to what end he may com) but that the remembrance of his forepassed faults and deedes should be more grieuous and irkesome to him, then the greate delight his body should take of the present pleasures: for neyther the wormes in the vines, nor the Locusts in the corne, nor the moths in the garments, nor the little wormes in the wood are so hurtfull and dammageable, as sinnes are of power to make a man sorrowfull. For to say truly, the pleasure wee receiue when we commit them is not so great, as is the displeasure wee feee after wee remember them. The which I considering my Lord, it causeth me to looke ouer my olde memorials, to examine my memorie, to strengthen my iudgement, and to seeke a new kinde of study, to no other end, but to finde out sweete words, diuers doctrines, and strange histories, by meanes whereof I might withdraw you from vaine and worldly delights, to cause you to walke in the right path, and to affect thinges vertuous and honest, though I haue alwayes knowne them as acceptable to you, as they haue beene familiar: for Princes seruants, the more they are busied with affayres, the lesse they know themselues.
And therefore great paine suffereth hee, and with ouer venemous poison is he infected, that with others and for other occupieth all his time, & for his own soules health cannot spare a moment of time. O what comforte and quiet were it vnto my heart, if it were assured it had taken the right way in the doctrine which I write to you, and that I had not erred in the counsels I giue you: so that in reading my booke you might acquire profite thereby, and I of my trauell therein reape my full contentation. And to the end, my Lord, wee may better expresse the matter, search the wound, and stop the veines, that wee may leaue no part vncured, or dregges of infection.
If hitherto I haue vsed plainnesse, I will now speake more plainely vnto you, and yet as one friend vseth to another. And therefore may it please you to accept these small written preposes in this booke, among all the residue, proceeding from the handes of one that rather desireth the health of your soule, then the gaine and satisfaction of your affects and desires.
All you that bee Princes familiars, and beloued Courtiers, obserue and retain with you these few precepts and counsels.
MY Lord, neuer tell to any, al that you thinke. Shew not all that you haue, neyther take all that you desire: Tell not al that you know Good counsell for all men, especially for Courtiets. Much lesse neuer doe all that you may: For the right path way to bring the fauoured Courtier into his Princes disgrace, is to be addicted to his sensuall appetites, and vaine humors and not to bee guided with reason & discretion.
2 Beware also you trust not, nor commit to the hazard of fortunes ticklenes, such things, as touch and concerne your person, honour, goods and consciences: For the wise Courtier that liueth in his Princes grace, will not rashly put himselfe in daunger, in hope to saue himselfe harmelesse, at all times when he listeth.
3 Although euery man offer his seruice to you, and seeme to bee at your commaundement when you shall neede him: yet I tell you (sir) I would not wish you had eyther neede of them, or of me: For many of those fine and curious Courtiers, which are the first that offer themselues to draw on your side, and to stand by, if neede bee, are commonly at the very pinch, the first and readiest to throw stones at our faces.
4 In other mens matters busie not your selfe too much: and in your owne, striue not with time, but take leysure: For liuing after this rule, you shall long keepe your selfe in the good and quiet estate you are in, and otherwise some inconuenience might lightly fall vpon you, that should make you remember what you were wont to be.
5 The imminent perill and daunger those are in, which are mounted to the toppe of some high thing, or to the cliffe of some high and rockie mountaine, where they haue no other way to descend, but to fall, is much like to that of the familiars of Princes. And therefore, my Lord, I woulde wish you would procure you, such faithfull friends about you, that they hauing regard and care of your person, should alwayes holde you by the gowne for falling. And not such as after they had let you fall, would then lend you their hands to helpe you vp againe.
6 Albeit the things of the soule should bee preferted before all others of this worldly life, yet neuerthelesse I will bee content, so that you haue as great care & consideration of your conscience, as you haue of your honour
All which I was willing to tell you sir, to the end you may better vnderstand, that those that are in estimation with the Prince, though they may benefite by time, in taking their time, yet time doth neuer benefite by them at all.
You must euer doe good to your vttermost power, and neuer doe displeasure to any, though it lye in your power, and that you haue iust cause.
For the teares of the poore that are iniuried, and the lamentable cries and plaintes of the oppressed, may possibly one daye ascend to the presence of the Tribunall Seate, where God shall sit in his Maiesty, demaunding iustice and vengeance against you: and [Page 577] also come to the cares of the Noble Prince, to cause you to bee hated of him for euer.
8 Touching the fauor you will shew to anie, eyther in Offices, or other benefites Christians are in all things to be prefered before all others. you will bestowe on any man, take heed you alwayes rather preferre honest and true Christians, then your owne neere Kins-men or friendes. For a man may lawfully make his Friende partaker of his goods, but not of his Conscience.
9 In your counsells you geue, in any wise bee not too much affectioned in them, neyther scorne with those that contrary your opinion. Be not proud and seuere vnto those you doe commaund, neyther doe any thing without good aduisement and consideration. For, albeit in Princes Courts euery man doth admire and beholde the excellencie and worthines of the person, yet are those alwayes that are most in fauour of the Prince, more noted, regarded, and sooner accused then others.
10 If you will not erre in the counselles you shall giue, nor fayle in those things you shall enterprise: Embrace those that tell you the truth, and reiect and hate those, whom you know to be Flatterers and dissemblers. For you should rather desire to bee admonished of the thing present, then to be counselled after the dammage receyued.
Although wee suppose assuredly, that all these things aboue-written, are not likely to happen, nor yet come euen so to passe, as I haue spoken: yet if it may please you (Syr) to remember, they are not therefore impossible.
For spitefull Fortune permitteth oftentimes, that the Sayles, which in stormie weather the Lightnings and boystrous Tempests could not breake and teare in piec [...], are afterwardes vpon a sudden (euen in the sweete of the mornings sleepe, each man taking his rest, leauing the Seas before in quiet calme) all to shiuered, and torne a sunder. He that meaneth to giue another a blowe also, the more he draweth backe his arme, with greater force hee striketh. And euen so (neyther more nor lesse) sayeth Fortune with those on whom for a time shee smyleth. For, the longer a man remayneth in her loue and fauor, the more cruell and bitter she sheweth herselfe to him in the ende.
And therefore I would aduise euery wise and Sage person, that when Fortune seemeth best of all to fauour him, and to doe most for him, that then hee should stand most in feare of her, and least of all to trust her deceits.
Therefore (Syr) nake no small account of this my Booke, little though it bee. For you know, that doubtlesse (as experience teacheth vs) of greater price and value is a little sparke of a Dyamond, then a greater ballast.
It forceth little that the Booke bee of small or great volume, sith the excellencie thereof consisteth not in the number of leaues more or lesse, but only in the good and graue sentences that are amply written therein.
For, euery Authour that writeth, What the Author or wryter of books should ayme at. to make his booke of great price and shew, ought to be briefe in his words, and sweete and pleasaunt in his matter hee treateth of, the better to satisfie the minde of the Reader, and also not to growe tedious to the hearer.
And (Syr) I speake not without cause, that you should not a little esteeme this smal treatise of mine, since you are most assured, that with time all your things shall haue ende, your Friendes shall leaue you, your goods shall bee diuided, your selfe shall dye, your fauour and credit shall diminish. and those that succeede you, shall forget you, you not knowing to whome [Page 574] your Goods and Patrimonie shall come: and aboue all, you shall not knowe what conditions your heyres and children shall be of. But for this I wryte in your royall Historic and Chronicle of your laudable vertues and perfections, and for that also I serue you as I doe, with this my present worke, the memorie of you shall remaine eternized to your Successors for euer.
Chilo the Phylosopher beeing demanded whether there were anything in the world that Fortune had not power to bring to nought, aunswered in this sort. Two things only there are, which neither Time can consume, nor Fortune destroy: And that is the renowne of man written in bookes, and the veritie that is hidden.
For though truth for a time lye interred, yet it resurgeth againe, and receiueth life, appearing manifestly to all. And euen so in like case the vertues we find written of a man, doe cause vs at this present to haue him in as great veneration, as those had in his time, that best knewe him.
Reade therefore (Syr) at times I beseech you, these writings of mine, albeit I feare me you can scant borrow a moment of Time with leysure once to looke vpon it, beeing (as I knowe you are) alwayes occupyed in affayres of great importance, wherin me thinketh you should not so surcharge your selfe, but that you might for your commodity and recreation of your spirits, reserue some priuate houres to your selfe. For sage and wise men should so burden themselues with care of others toyle, that they shold not spend one houre of the day at the least (at their pleasure) to looke on their estate and condition.
As recounteth Suetonius Tranquillus of Iulius Caesar, who notwithstanding his quotidian warres he had; neuer let slip one day, but that he reade or wrote some thing.
So that being in his Pauillion in the Campe, in the one hand hee held his lance to assault his enemie; and in the other the penne he wrote withall, with which he wrote his worthy Cō mentaries. The resonable man therfore calling to mind the straight account A wise man reserueth some time for his profite and recreation. that he must render of himselfe, and of the time he hath lost, shall alwayes be more carefull that hee lose not his time, then he shall be to keepe his treasure: For the well imployed time is a meane and helpe to his sal saluation: and the euill gotten good a cause of his eternall damnation.
Moreouer yet, what toyle and trauell is it to the body of the man, and how much more perill to the liuing soule, when hee consumeth his whole dayes and life in worldly broyles, and yet seely man hee cannot absent himselfe from that vile drudgery, til death doth summon him to yeelde vp his account of his life and doings.
And now to conclude my Prologue I say this booke is diuided into two parts, that is to say, in the first tenne Chapters is declared how the newcome Courtier shall behaue himselfe in the Princes Court, to winne fauour and credit with the Prince, and the surplus of the work treateth, when hee hath atchieued to his Princes fauour, and acquired the credite of a worthy Courtier: how he shall then continue the same to his further aduancement.
And I doubt not, but that the Lords and Gentlemen of Court, will take pleasure to reade it, and namely, such as are Princes familiars, and beloued of Court, shall most of all reape profite thereby, putting the good lessons and aduertisements they finde heretofore written in execution. For to the young Courtiers it sheweth them what they haue to do: and putteth in remembrance also the [Page 575] olde fauoured Courtyer, (liuing in his princes grace) of that he hath to be circumspect of. And finally, I conclude (Syr) that of all the Treasures, riches, gifts, fauours, prosperities, pleasures, seruices, greatnesse, and power, that you haue and possesse in this mortall and transitorie life: and by the Faith of a true Christian I sweare vnto you also, that you shal carrie no more with you, then that onely Time, which you haue well and vertuously employed, during this your Pilgrimage.
THE ARGVMENT OF THE BOOKE: ENTITVLED, THE FAuoured Courtyer: wherein the Authour sheweth the intent of his worke; exhorting all men to studie good and vertuous Books, vtterly reiecting all Fables, & vaine trifling storyes, of small doctrine & erudition.
A Ʋlus Gellius, in his Booke De noctibus Atticis saith: That after the death of the great Poet Homer, 7-famous cities of Grece were in great controuersie, one with the other: each one of them affirming that by reason the bones of the saide Poet was theirs, and only appertained Le [...]rned men greatly honored in times past. to them, all 7. taking their oaths, that he was not only borne, but also nourished & broght vp in euery one of thē. And this they did: (Supposing that they neuer had so great honor in any thing, but that this was far greater to haue educated so Excellent and rare a Man as hee was. Euripides also the phylosopher born and broght vp in Athens: trauelling in the realm of Macedonia, was suddēly strucken with death, which woful newes no soner came to the Athenians eares (declared for a truth) but with all expedition they dispatched an honorable Embasie: only to intreat the Lacedemoniās to be contented to deliuer them the bones of the said phylosopher: protesting to them that if they wold frankly grant them, they would regratifie that pleasure done them: and if they would denie them, they should assure themselues they would come and fetch them with the sword in hand.
K: Demetrius helde Rhodes besieged long time (which at length he won, by force of arms) & the Rhodiās being so stubborn that they wold not yeeld by composition, nor trust to his princely clemencie, hee cōmanded to strike off al the Rhodians heads, & to rase the city to the hard foundations. But when he was let vnderstand, that there was euen then in the Cittie Prothogenes, a Phylosopher and Paynter, and doubting least in executing others, hee also vnknowne, might bee put to the sword, reuoked his cruell sentence & gaue straight commandement forthwith they should cease to spoile and deface the towne further, and also to stay the slaughter of the rest of the Rhodians. The diuine Plato beeing in Athens, aduertised that in the city of Damasco, in the realme of Palestine, were certaine bookes of great antiquity, which a Philosopher borne of that Country left behind him there: when he vnderstood it to be true, went thither immediately, led with the great desire he had to see them, & purposely [Page 576] (if they did like him) afterwards to buy them. And when hee saw that neyther at his suit, nor at the requests of others he could obtaine them, but that he must buy thē at a great price.
Plato went and solde all his patrimony to recouer them: and his owne not being sufficient, hee was faine to borrow vpon interest of the commō Treasury to helpe him: so that notwithstanding he was so profound and rare a Philosopher (as indeed he was) yet he would sell all that small substāce hee had onely to see (as hee thought some prety new thing more of Philosophy As Ptolomeus Philadelphus king of Egypt, not contened to bee so wise in al sciences as he was, nor to haue in, his Library 8000. bookes as hee had nor to study at the least 4. houres in the day, nor ordinarily to dispute at his meales with Philosophers, sent neuerthelesse an Ambassage of Noble men to the Hebrewes, to desire them they would be contented to send him some of the best learned and wisest men amongst them, to teach him the Hebrew tongue, and to reade to him the books of their Laws.
When Alexander the Great was borne, his father King Philip wrote a notable letter immediately to Aristotle, among other matters hee wrote, there were these, I let thee to vnderstand. The letter of K. Phili, to Aristol at the birth of his sonne Alexander.
O greatest Philosopher Aristotle (if thou knowest it not) that Olimpius my wife is brought to bedde of a sonne, for which incessantly I giue the Gods immortall thankes, not so much that I haue a sonne, as for that they haue giuen him mee in thy time. For I am asassured hee shall profite more with the doctrine thou shalt teach him, then he shall preuayle with the Kingdomes I shall leaue him after me.
Now by the examples aboue recited, and by many more wee could alledge, wee may easily consider with what reuerence and honour the auncient Kings vsed the learned and vertuous men in their time. And wee may also more plainely see it, sith then they helde in greater price and estimation the bones of a dead Philosopher, then they doe now the doctrine of the best learned of our time. And not without iust occasion did these famous and heroycall Princes ioy to haue at home in their houses, and abroad with them in the field, such wise and learned men, whilest they liued, and after they were dead to honour, their bones and carcases, and in doing this, they erred not a a iot: For whosoeuer accompanieth continuallly with graue and wise men, enioyeth this benefit and priuiledge before others, that he shall neuer bee counted ignorant of any: therfore continuing stil our first purpose, let vs say, that whosoeuer will professe the company The benefite that accreweth by companying, with wise men. of sober & wise men, it cannot otherwise be, but he must maruellously profit by their cōpany: for being in their company, they wil put al vain and dishonest thoughts from him, they will teach him to subdue & resist al sudden passions & motions moued of choler: by thē they shal win good friends, and learn also neuer to be troublesom, or enemy to any, they will make him forsake all sinne & vice, declaring to him what good works he shall follow, and what hee shall most flye and eschew: they will let him vnderstand how hee shall humble and behaue himselfe, in prosperity, and they will also comfort him in his aduersity, to keep him from all sorrow and despaire. For though a man be neuer so carefull and circumspect, yet hath he hath always need of the councell of another in his affaires: if therefore such a person haue not about him good, vertuous, & sage men, how can it otherwise bee, but that he must stūble oft, and fall down right on his face, hauing no man to aid or help him.
[Page 577] Paulus Dyaconus sayth, that albeit the Affricanes were wilde and brutish people, yet had they notwithstanding a law amongst them, that the senators amongst them, could chuse no other Senator, if at the Election there were not present a philosopher.
So it hapned on a day amongst the rest, that of manie phylosophers they had in Carthage, amongst them there was one named Apolonius, who ruled for the space of 62. yeares, all their Senat with great quyet, and to the contentation of all the Senators, which to shew themselues thankfull to him, erected in the market place so many images of him, as hee had gouerned their Common-weale yeares, to the ende the fame and memorie of him should bee immortall: and yet they did dedicate to their famous Hannibal, but one only image, and to this Phylosopher they set vp aboue 60. Alexander the great, whē he was most bēt to bloudy wars, went to see & speake with Diogines the Phylosopher, offring him great presents & discoursing with him of diuers matters. So that wee may iustly say, This good Prince of himselfe tooke paines to seeke out wise men to accompanie him, electing by others choyce and aduise all such, as hee made his Captaines to serue him in the warres.
It is manifest to all, that Dyonisius the Syracusan was the greatest Tyrant in the worlde: and yet notwithstanding his Tiranny, it is a wonder to see what sage and wise men he had continually in his Courte with him: And that, which makes vs yet more to wonder of him is, that hee had them not about him to serue him, or to profite one jote by their doctrines and counsell: but onely for his honour, and their profite, which enforceth mee to say, concurring with this example, that sith Tyrants did glorie to haue about them Sages, wise, and worthie men: Much more should those reioice, that their works & deeds are noble, & freeharted. And this they ought to do, not onely to bee honoured with them openly, but also to be holpen with their doctrine and counsells secretly.
And if to some this should seeme a hard thing to follow, we will say, that worthy men not being of abilitie and power to maintayne such Wise-men, ought yet at least to vse to reade, at times, good and vertuous books. For by reading (of vertuous Bookes) they may reape infinite profite. As for example: By reading (as I say) these Good Authours, the desire is satisfied, their iudgement is quickned, ydlenesse is put away, the heart is disburdened, the Time is well employed, and they lead their liues vertuously, not being bound to render account of so manie faults, as in that time they might haue committed. And to conclude, it is so good an exercise, as it giueth good example to the Neighbour, profite to himselfe, and health to the soule.
We see by experience, after a man taketh vppon him once the Studie of holie Scriptures, and that hee frameth himselfe to bee a Diuine, hee will neuer willingly thenceforth deale in any other studyes: and all because he will not forgoe (the great comfort and pleasure he receyueth) to reade those holy sayings. And that causeth, that we see so manie learned & wise men (for the more part) subiect to diuers diseases: and full of Melancholike humours. For, so sweete is the delight they take in theyr Bookes, that they forget and leaue all other bodily pleasure.
And therefore Plutarche writeth, that certaine phylosophers being one day met at the lodging of Plato, to see him: & demanding what exercise he had at that time? Plato answered thē, thus. Truely my brethren, I let you know, that euen now my onely exercise was, to see what the great Poete Homer said. And this he tolde them, because that they took him euen then [Page 578] reading of some of Homers bookes, and to say truely, his aunswere was such, as they should all looke for of him. For to reade a good booke, in effect is nothing else, but to heare a wise man speake,
And if this our iudgement and aduise seeme good vnto you, we would yet say more, that you should profite more to reade one of these bookes, then you should to heare speake, or to haue conference with the Author him selfe that made it: For it is without doubt, that all Writers haue more care and respect in that their penne doth write, then they haue in that their tongue doth vtter. And to the end you should not thinke we cannot proue that true that we haue spoken, I giue you to vnderstand, that euerie Author that will write, to publish his doing in print, to lay it to the shew, and iudgement of the world, and that desireth thereby to acquire honour, & fame, and to eternize the memory of him, turneth many bookes, conferreth with other wise and lerned men, addicteth himselfe wholy to his book, endeauoureth to vnderstand well, oft refuseth sleepe, meat and drinke, quicneth his spirites, doing that he putteth in writing exactly with long aduise, and consideration, which he doth not when hee doth but onely speake and vtter them, though oft in deede (by reason of his great knowledge) in speech vnawares there falleth out of his mouth, many godly and wise sentences. And therefore God hath giuen him a goodly gift that can reade and him much more that hath a desire to study, knowing how to chuse the good bookes from the euill. For to say the truth, there is not in this world any state or exercise more honourable and profitable then the study of good books. And we are much bound to those that read, more to those that study, and much more to those that write any thing, but most doubtlesse to those that make & compile goodly books, and those of great and high doctrine: for there are many vaine and fond bookes, that rather deserue to be throwne into the fire, then once to be read or looked on: for they do not only shew vs the way to mocke them, but also the ready meane to offend vs, to see them occupie their braines and best wittes, they haue to write foolish and vaine things, of no good subiect or erudition. And that which is worst of all yet, they are occasion, that diuers others spend as much time in reading their iests and mockeries, as they would otherwise haue imploied in doctrine, of great profit and edifying, the which to excuse and defend their error, say they did not write them for men to take profite thereby, but only to delight and please the Readers, to passe the time away merily, whom we may rightly answer thus: That the reading of ill and vaine bookes, cannot bee called a pastime, but aptly a very losse of time. And therefore Aulus Gelius in the fifteenth of his booke writeth, that after the Romanes vnderstood the Orators and Poets of Rome, did giue themselues to write vain, voluptuous, and dishonest bookes, causing Enterludes and Poeticall Comedies to be played, they did not only banish them from Rome, but also out all the parts of Italy: for it beseemed not the Romane grauity, neyther was it decent for the Weale publike, to suffer such naughty bookes among them, and much lesse for to beare with vicious and lasciuious gouernours. And if the Romane Panims left vs this for example, how much more ought wee that are Christians to continue and follow it, since that they had no other Bookes for to reade saue onely Histories, and we now a dayes haue both Histories, and holy Scriptures [Page 579] to read, which were graūted vs by the church, to the end that by the one we might take some honest pleasure and recreation, and with the other procure the health of oursoules.
Oh how farre is the Commonwealth nowe-adayes digressed from that wee wryte and counsell, since we see plainely, that men occupie themselues, at this present, in reading a nū ber of Books, the which only to name I am ashamed. And therfore said Aulus Gelius in his 14. book, That there was a certain philosopher wrote a book of hie and eloquent stile, but the subiect very harde and diffuse to vnderstand: which Socrates, & other philosophers hearing of, cōmanded immediatly the Booke to be burned, and the Author to be banished: by which exāple we may well perceiue, that in that so perfit and reformed Vniuersitie, they would not onely suffer any Lasciuious or vicious booke, but also they would not beare with those, that were too hawtie and vainglorious in their stiles, and whose matter was not profitable, and beneficiall to the Publike-weale. That man therfore that walloweth in idlenes lap, that vouchsafes not to spēd one houre of the day to read a graue sentence of some good Booke, wee may rather deseruedly cal him a brutish beast, then a reasonable creature. For euery wise man ought to glory more of the knowledge he hath, then of the aboundance of goods he possesseth. And it cannot be denyed, but that those which reade vertuous Bookes, are euer had in better fauor, and estimation then others. For they learne to speake, they passe their time without trouble, they know many pleasant things, which they after tel to others: they haue audacitie to reproue others, & euery man delighteth to heare them, & in what place or companie soeuer they come, they are alwaies reuerenced & honored aboue others: euery man desireth their knowledge and acquaintance, and are glad to aske them counsell. And that, that is yet of greater credit to them is, that they are not few in number, that trusteth them with their bodie & goods.
And moreouer (I say) that the wise and learned man which professeth studie, shall know very well how to counsel his friend, and to comfort himselfe at all times, when neede doeth serue, which the foolish ignorant person can not doe: For he cannot only tell how to comfort the afflicted in aduersitie, but also hee cannot helpe himselfe in his own proper affaires, nor take coū sell of himselfe, what is best to doe.
But returning againe to our purpose (we say) because we would not be reproued of that we rebuke others of, wee haue beene very circumspect and aduised: and taking great care, and paines in our study, that all our books and workes, wee haue published, and compyled, should be so exactly done, that the Readers might not find any ill doctrine, nor also any thing worthy reproofe. For the vnhonest bookes, made by lasciuious persōs do giue (deseruedly) euident token to the Readers to suspect the Authours: and troubleth the iudgements of those, that giue attentiue care vnto them.
And therefore I counsell and admonish him that will enterprise, and take vppon him to bee a wryter, and a setter forth of Bookes, that hee bee wise in his matter hee sheweth, and compendious in the wordes hee writeth: and not to bee like to diuers Wryters, whose workes are of such a phrase and style, as we shall reade many times to the middest of the booke, ere wee finde one good and notable sentence, so that a man may say, that al the fruit those reape for their paine, watches, and trauell, is none other but onely a meere toye and mockery, they being derided of euery man that seeth their workes.
[Page 578] That Authour that vndertaketh to write, and afterwardes prostrateth to common iudgement the thing hee wryteth, may bee assured that hee setteth his wittes to great trauell and studie, and hazardeth his honour to present perill. For the iudgement of men being variable, and diuers (as they are indeede) manie times they doe meddle and enter into iudgement of those things, whereof they are not only not capable to vnderstand, but also lesse skilfull to reade them.
Now in that booke wee haue set out, of The Dyall of Princes: and in that other wee haue translated of the Life of the Romaine Emperours, and in this wee haue now set forth Of the fauoured Courtiers, the Readers may bee assured, they shall find in them goodly and graue sentences, whereby thy may greatly profit, and they shall not read any wordes superfluous, to comber or weary them at all. For, we did not once licence our pen to dare to write any word, that was not first weyed in true ballāce, & measured by iust measure. And GOD can testifie with vs, that without doubt wee haue had more paine to be briefe in the wordes of our books we haue hitherto made, then we haue had to gather out the inuention, and graue sentences thereof.
For to speake good words, and to haue good matter and wise purposes, is the property of one that naturally is modest, and graue in his actions: but to write briefely, he must haue a deepe vnderstanding.
When at the Fonte of the Printers Forme, we first baptized the Booke of Marcus Aurelius, wee intituled it The Dyall of Princes: and this therefore that we haue now made and added to it, we call it (more for briefnes) The fauoured Courtyer: which portendeth the whet-stone and instruction of a Courtyer. For if they will vouchsafe to reade, and take the fruitfull counselles they finde written heerein, they may assure themselues, they shall awaken out of the vanityes, they haue long slept in: and shall also open their eies, to see the better, that thing wherin they liue so long deceyued. And albeit indeed this present work sheweth to you but a fewe contriued lines, yet GOD himselfe doeth knowe, the paines we haue taken herein hath bin exceeding great, and this for two causes: the one for that the matter is very straunge and diuerse from others; the other, to thinke that assuredly, it should be hated of those that want the taste of good discipline. And therefore wee haue taken great care, it should come out of our hands well reformed and corrected: to the ende that Courtyers might finde out many Sentences in it, profitable for them, and not one word to trouble them.
Those Noble-men, or Gentlemen, that will from henceforth haue their children brought vp in the Courtes of Princes, shall finde in this Booke, all things they shall neede to prouide them of: And those also which haue beene long Courtyers, shall finde all that they ought to doe in Court.
And such also as are best fauoured of Noble Princes, and carrie greatest reputation of honour with them, shall find likewise excellent good counsels, by meane whereof, they may alwayes maintain and continue themselues, in the chiefest greatnesse of their credite and fauour: so that it may well be called a Mithridaticall Electuary: recuring and healing all malignant opilations.
Of all the Bookes I haue hitherto compiled, I haue Dedicated some of them vnto the Imperiall Maiestie, and others, to those of best fauor and credite with him: where the Readers may see, that I rather glorie to bee a Satyr then a Flatterer, for that in all my [Page 579] sentences they cannot finde one cloked word, to enlarge and embetter my credite and estate. But to the contrary, they may reade an infinite number of others, where I doe exhort them to gouern their person discreetly and honorably, and to amend their liues thenceforth.
When I Imprinted the Diall of Princes, together with Marcus Aurelius, and brought them to light. I wanted not backbiters and detractors that beganne forthwith to teare me in pieces; neyther shall I want at this present (as I beleeue) such as will not spare with venemous tongues, to poyson my worke: But like as then I little wayed their slaunderous speeches of me, euen so much lesse do I now force what they can say against mee, being assured they shall finde in the end, they haue ill spoken of mee, and my poore workes, proceeding from them rather of a certaine enuie, that gnaweth their heart, then of any default they finde in my doctrine, comforting my selfe yet in the assurance I haue, that all their spight shall one day haue an end, and my workes shall euer be found good and perdurable
THE FOVRTH BOOKE OF THE DYALL OF PRINCES, COMPILED BY THE LORD ANTHONY Gueuara, Bishop of Mondogueto:
CHAP. I. That it is more necessary for the Courtier, (abiding in Court) to be of liuely spirite and audacity, then it is for the Souldier, that goeth to serue in the warres.
PLutarch, Plinie, and Titus Liutus declare that King Agiges one day requested the Oracle of Apollo to tell him, who was the happiest man in the world: to whom answere was made, that it was a man they called Aglaon, beknowne of the Gods, and vnknowne of men.
This King Agiges making then search for this man through all Greece, who was called Aglaon, found at length that it was a poor Gardner, dwelling in Archadia, who being of the age of threescore and two yeares, neuer went aboue a mile from his house, keeping himselfe and his family continually with his onely labour and tillage of his Garden. Now albeit there were in the world of better parentage and linage then he, better accompanied of seruants, and tenants, better prouided of goods and riches, higher in dignity, and of greater authority then he: yet for all this, was this Aglaon the happiest of the world. And this was, for that he neuer haunted princes Courts, neyther by enuy to bee They are oft times most known that least seeke acquaintāce ouerthrowne, nor yet by auarice to be ouercome. For many times it chanceth to men, that when they would least giue themselues to acquaintance, then come they most to bee knowne: and when they make least account of themselues, then cometh there an occasion to make thē to be most reputed of: For they winne more honor, that despise these goods, honours, and riches of this world, then those do, that continually gape, and seeke after the same. And therefore we should more enuy Aglaon, with his little garden, [Page 584] then Alexander the Great with his mighty Asia: For true contentation consisteth not in hauing aboundance, but in being contented with that little hee hath.
It is a mockery, and worthily hee deserueth to be laughed at, that thinketh contentation lyeth in hauing much, or in being of great authoritie: for such wayes are readier to make vs stumble, yea and many times to fall down right, then safely to assure vs to go on our way.
The punishment that God gaue to Cain for murdering of his brother Abel was, that his body continually trembled, and he euer after wandred thorough the world: so that he neuer found, where he might enhabite, nor house where he might harbour. And albeit this malediction of Cain was the first that euer God ordained, I durst affirme notwithstanding, that it remayneth as yet vntill this present day amongst Courtiers, sith wee see them dayly trauell, and runne into strange Countries, dayly changing and seeking new lodgings.
Which maketh me once again to say, that Aglaon was counted happy, and for that onely hee neuer romed No misery comparable to that of the Courtier farre from his house: For to say truly, there is no misery comparable to that of the Courtier, that is bound dayly to lye in others houses, hauing none of his owne to goe to. And he onely may bee called happy, that putteth not himselfe in danger to serue others.
Iulius Caesar beeing counselled to wayre vpon the Consull Sylla, to the end that by seruing, or being about him, hee might doe himselfe greate good, and it might bee very profitable to him, answered thus: I sweare by the immortall Gods, I will neuer serue any, in hope to be more worth, & greater then I am: For this I am sure of, that where Liberty is exiled, there might nor power can preuaile.
He that forsaketh his owne Countrey where he liued at ease, & in health and the place where hee was knowne and beloued, the neighbours of whom hee was visited, the friends of whome hee was serued, the parents of whome hee was honoured, the goods wherewith he maintained himselfe, his wife, and children (of whom he had a thousand pleasures and consolations) and that commeth to serue and dye in the Court. I cannot say otherwise of him, but that he is a very foole, or that hee commeth to doe penance for some notable crime hee hath committed: And therefore not without great cause was this name of Courte, (which in our tong signifieth short) Why this name Court was adhibited to the Pallace of Princes. adhibited to the pallace of Princes, where indeed all things are short, only enuy and malice excepted, which continue long.
He onely desireth to be a Courtier, that as yet hath not tasted the sweetnesse and pleasure of his owne house, nor hath yet proued and seene the troubles and pains of the Court: For hee that knoweth them, figheth when he is called to the Court; and weepeth when he is kept long there. I haue studyed in times past in the Vniuersities, preached in the Courts, praying in Religion: and now I dwel vpon my Bishopricke, teaching and instructing my Diocesians: but I dare say, of all these foure states recited, there is none so streight and painfull, as is to follow the Court.
If I studyed at the Vniuersity, I did it of free will to bee wiser: but onely in the Court I spent my time, to be more worth then I was. But the greatest time I consumed in Religion, was to say my prayers, and to bewayle my grieuous sinnes.
In the Court I onely gaue my selfe to suspect my neighbour, and inuented to build great Castels of wind [Page 585] (with thought) in the ayre. And therefore I returne once again to say, that it is a greater trouble and vexation for to become a Courtier, then to bee a religious person: For It is more difficult to bee a Courtier then a religious person. in religion it sufficeth to obey one but in the Court hee must serue all. And in religion also they are apparrelled with lesse cost and charges, and to the greater contentation of the person, then they are in the Court. For a poore Gentleman Courtier is bound to haue more change and sutes of apparrell, then the falcon feathers. The religious persons goe alwayes to dinner, and finde their meate on the Table, ready prepared for them, without any thought taken of their part, what they shall haue: but fine Courtiers many times rise out of their bed, without euer a penny in their purse.
And albeit religious persons all their life take great paines in rising at midnight to serue God: yet haue they great hope after their death, of the heauenly rest and comfort: but poore Courtiers, alas what should I say, hard is their life, and more perillous their death, into greater danger truly putteth he himselfe, that becommeth a Courtier, then did Nasica, when gee was with the Serpent, then King Dauid with the Philistines, then the Southsayers with Euah, then Hercules with Antheon, then Theseus with the Minocaure, then King Menelaus with the wilde Bore, then Corebus with the Monster of the marish, and then Perseus with the monstrous whale of the sea: For euery one of these valiant mē were not afraid but of one: but the miserable Courtier standeth in feare of all: For what is he in Court, that seeing his neere Kinsman or deerest friend, more in fauour or credit then himselfe, or richer then he, that wisheth not his friendes death, or at the least procureth by all meanes he can, he shall not equall, nor goe euen with with him in credite or reputation: One of the worst things I consider, & see in Courtiers is, that they loose much time, and profite little: For the Many a Courtier spends his time all. thing wherein they spend their dayes, and hestow the nights, for the most part is, to speake ill of those that are their betters, or excel them in vertues: and to vndoe those that are their equals and companions: to flatter the beloued, and among the inferiour sort to murmur one against an other: and alwayes to sigh and lament for the times past.
And there is nothing that prouoketh Courtiers more to complaine, then the dayly desire they haue to see sundry and new alterations of time: For they little weigh the ruine of the Common weale, so they may enlarge and exalt their owne estates. Also, it is a thing of course in Court, that the reiected and fauourlesse Courtiers, meete together, murmuring at their Princes, and backbiting their councellers and officers, saying, they vndoe the Realme, and bring all to nought. And al this presupposed, for that they are not in the like fauour and estimation that they be in, which beareth office and rule in the Common-weale: And therefore when it commeth in question, for a Courtier to aduaunce himselfe, and to come in credit in the Court, one Gourtier can scarsly euer trust an other.
On the other side, mee thinketh that the life of the Court is not the very life in deede, but rather an open penance. And therefore in my opinion, wee should not reckon Courtiers aliue, but rather dead, buried in their life.
For then the Courtier euer findeth himselfe plunged with deaths extream passious, when hee perceyueth an other The life of a [...] Courtier, an open penance. to be preferred and called before him, Alas, what great pitty is it to see a haplesse and vnfortunate Courtier; [Page 586] for hee seely soule awaketh a thousand times in the night, tosseth from side to side of his bed, sometime vpright hee lyeth, lamenting his yron happe, now he sigheth for his natiue soyle, and sorroweth then for his lost honour: so that in maner he spendeth the whole night in watch and cares, imagining with himselfe all the wayes hee can, to come in credite and fauour againe, that he may attaine to wealth and preferment before others; which maketh mee thinke, that it is not a paine, but a cruell torment: no seruice but tribute: and not once only, but euer: that the body of the poore miserable Courtier abideth, & that (in despite of him) his wretched heart doth beare.
By the Law of the Court, euery Courtier is bound to serue the King, to accompany the beloued of the Court, to visite noble men, to wayte vpon those that are at the Princes elbow, to giue to the vshers, to present the Auditors, to entertaine the Wardens and captaines of the Ports, to currey fauour with the Harbingers, to flatter the Treasurer, to trauell and speake for their friendes, and to dissemble amongst their enemies.
What legges are able to doe all these things? what force sufficient to abide these brunts? what heart able to endure them? and moreouer, what purse great inough to supply all these deuises? I am of opinion, there was neuer any so foolish, nor marchant so couetons, that hath solde himselfe in any fayre, or exchangde himselfe for any other Marchandize, but only the vnhappy Courtier, who goeth to the court to sell his liberty, for a litle winde, and vaine smoake of the court.
I graunt that a courtier may haue in the court plenty of golde and siluer, sumptuous apparrell, fauour cresite, and authoritie: yet withall this aboundance yee cannot deny me, but he is as poore of liberty, as rich of substance or credite. And therefore I dare boldly say this word againe, for one time the Courtier hath his desire in Court, a thousand times they will enforce him to accomplish others desires, which neyther please nor like The Courtier is abridged of his liberty. him. Surely it commeth of a base and vile minde, and no lesse cowardly, for any man lightly to esteeme his liberty, and fondly to embrace bondage and subiection, being at others commaundement.
And if the Courtier would aunswere mee to this, that though hee serue, yet at least hee is in his Princes fauour. I would replye thus, Though hee bee in fauour with the Prince yet is he notwithstanding slaue to all his other officers, For if the Courtier will sell his horse, his moyle, his cloke, his sworde, or any other such like whatsoeuer, hee shall haue ready money for all, sauing for his liberty, which hee liberally bestoweth on all for nothing. So that hee seemeth to make more estimation of his sword or appaarrell hee selleth, then he doth of his liberty which hee giueth: For a man is not bound to trauell at all, to make himselfe master of others, more then pleaseth him: but to recouer liberty, or to maintaine it, he is bound to dye a thousand deaths.
I speake not these things for that I haue read them in my bookes, but because I haue seene them all with mine eyes, and not by science, but by experiennce: and I neuer knew Courtier yet content in Court, much lesse enioying any iot of his liberty, which I so much esteeme, that if al men were sufficient to know it, and knew well how to vse it, he would neuer for any Treasure on earth forgoe it, neyther for any gage lendi [...], were it neuer so precious.
Yet is there in Court besides this an other kind of trouble, I haue [Page 587] not yet touched, and that is not small. For oft times thither commeth of our friends which be straungers, whom of necessitie, and for honesties sake: the Courtier must Lodge with him at home, the Court beeing already full pestered. And this happeneth oft in such a time, when the poore Courtyer hath neither Lodging of his owne, to lodge them in: nor happily six pence in his purse, to welcome themwithall.
I would you would tell mee also, what griefe and sorrowe the poore Courtyer feeleth at his heart, when hee lodgeth in a blinde, narrowe-lane: eateth at a borrowed table, sleepeth in a hyred bedde, and perhaps his Chamber hauing no doore to it: yea, and for the more part, his apparell and armor, euen to the very Sworde in gage. Then when any Friends of his commeth out of the countrey to lye with him, (hee being so poore, and also a stranger in an other mans house) how is it possible he should accept into his companie any others, and perhaps as needie as hee?
Sometimes he were better, and had rather beare his friends cost, and charges (being altogether vnable) yea, and to finde him all his necessaries (what shift so euer he made) then he should suffer his Friend or straunger to come home to his house, to knowe and see the miserie he liueth in. For more is the honest heart and good nature ashamed and grieued, to discouer his misery, then it is to suffer and abide it. Commonly the Courtyer being alone, An honest hart is more greeued to shew his misery then to suffer it. is content with a litle couch, one mattresse or quilt, one flock-bed, with one pillowe, and one paire of sheets, with one couerlet, with one frying-pan, one grid-yron, one spit, one kettle, one basine, with one candle-sticke, and with one pot: which he cannot doe, if any stranger or friend of his come to him: For then hee must for his reputationsake hang his Chamber, dresse vp his bed, and furnish it better, and must also prouide for a thousand other such trifles he standeth in need of. And if it fall out his Host and goodman of the house will not lend him these things or that perhaps he hath them not (as it chaunceth oft) he shalbe compelled to borrow vppon a pawne, or to hyre of others: wheras if he were alone with his owne people, hee would right well be contented with his small ordinarie.
And when a stranger commeth to see him, he must be at greater cost and charge: so that he shall spend more at one dinner or supper, then hee had done before in three dayes. And therefore doubtles the Courtyers are at more charges with their Friendes, that come to see them, then they are with themselues. For the honourable and worthie Courtyers had rather fast an other time, then to shewe himselfe at this pinch needie & harde, and after to bee mocked of his acquaintance.
Oh now many men are there in the world that waste and spend in one day all that they haue trauelled to get together in many? Not for that they esteem not their goods, and desire not to keepe them: but onely for a little vain glory, to get them the name of a free-harted and liberall man: dealing honestly among his friends.
Also as great is the trouble to the poore Courtyer, when the Courte remoueth The Courtyer subiect to much trouble. oft from place to place. For, thē he must truss-vp his baggage, lode the moyles, & hyre carts to carry it, afterwards pray the cofferer to pay him: the Harbingers to prepare him a lodging, & then he must first send one of his men to see if the lodging be meere for him. Furthermore, Courtyers haue occasion oft times to bee angrie with the carters, and Muletters, for loding too much, or too little: & for cōming too late to the lodging, & many times also, they must Ryde at noone-dayes, [Page 588] & in the greatest heat, and somtimes in raine, dew, tempest, or in other il weather (whatsoeuer it be) for that the Carters and Carriers will not loose their iourney.
And admit that all this may easily be carried, is it therefore reasonable or meete, the poore Courtier should spend at one voyage, or remouing of What epences the Courtier is at. the Court, all the profite and spare hee hath made in six moneths before? And what shall wee say also, of the stuffe and moueables that the poore Courtier of necessity must buy in euery place where the Court remayneth, as chaires, tables, formes stools, water pots, platters, dishes, and other small trash. that would cost more the carriage, then the buying of them anew. And to conclude, all things pertayning to Court are painefull, vnpleasant, and chargeable for the poore Courtier: For if he should carrie alwayes with him, all such things as bee necessary, and that he should need: in carriage they are broken or marde, or being left behind, they are in hazard to be stollen or lost: for he that will bee a continuall Courtier, must be of a bolde and stout courage: For hee shall be forced hourely to leaue of his owne desires, to please and content others, changing and shifting to diuers places, and strange lodgings, and oft times of seruants and new family, dayly encreasing his charge and expence.
And truely, if that which is gotten and gained in Court be worth much: much more doth that exceede that is spent in Court, and these expences are rather lauish, then moderate: disordered, then well spent: for in effect Courtiers spend more with strangers they receyue into their lodgings, then they doe with their ordinary seruants they keepe. Albeit that, that Courtiers lose and leaue behind them at euery remouing of the Court, bee but of small account or importance, yet it is notwithstanding both griefe and displeasure to them: for indeede there is no house so richly furnished, and replenished with moueables, but that the Lord or Master of the house, will chafe to see a dish or glasse broken, or spoyled.
Yet there is an other discommodity in remouing of the court, for som Courtiers there are that be so poore, that for want they can hardly follow the Court, and others also that are rich, are compelled to beare many of their charges, with whom they are in company with by the way: and some of those are so rude and ill brought vp, that they had rather beare their charge all their iourney, then once againe to haue them in their company. But a Godsname, what shall wee say yet of the wretched Courtier, whose Coffers and horse are arrested at his departing for his debts? Truely I lye not: for once I saw a Courtiers moile solde for her prouender shee had eaten and that money not sufficient to pay the host: the Courtier remaining yet debter of an ouerplus; the poore man was stripped euen of his cappe & gloues for the satisfaction of the rest.
Also there is an other sort of needy Courtiers, so troublesom and importune, that they neuer cease to trouble their friends, to borrow money of their acquaintance, some to finde themselues, some to apparrell themselues, others to pay their debts, others to play, and others to giue presents: so that at the remouing day, when they haue nothing wherwith to pay nor content their Creditors, then they are sued in Lawe, and arrested in their lodging, and the The misery that Courtiers are subiect vnto Creditors many times are not satisfied with their goods, but doe take execution also of their bodies, laying them in fast prison, till they bee [Page 589] payde and satisfied, of their whole debte.
Oh what follie may bee thought in those, that cannot moderate their expences, according to their abilitie? For to say vprightly, hee should cut his Garments according to his cloth, and measure his expences with his reuenues: and not following his affection and desire. For, the Gentleman How Courtyers ought to order their expences. or Courtier in the ende hath not the meane nor commodiitie to spende as the Countrey-man hath, that liueth at home at else in the countrey, & spendeth such commodities as hee brings into his house, but the courtier consumeth in court not his owne alone, but also that of others.
And therefore in Courte or elsewhere, let euery wise man bee diligent to bring his affayres to ende: but yet let him so moderate and vse his Expences, as hee shall not neede, nor be driuen to morgage, and gage that hee hath. For hee that feasteth and rowteth with others purse, of that that is lent him, cannot choose but in the ende he must breake, and deceyue his creditours.
Therfore all worthiemen, that loue their honour, and feare reproache, ought rather to suffer, hunger, colde, thyrst, care, paine, and sorrow, then to be had in the checke-roule of ryotous and prodigall spenders, trustlesse of theyr promises, and suspected of their wordes.
There is yet another great trouble, in the court of Princes, and that is the exceeding dearth of victualls, the vnreasonable want of houses, and the great price of horses: for many times they spend more for strawe, and litter for their horse, then they doe in other places for hay, oats, and bread.
And further, if the Courtyer bee a poore gentleman, and that he would feast and banquet his friends or companions, he shall spend at one dinner or supper so much that he shalbe constrained to faste a whole weeke after. Therefore if the Courtyer will be well vsed in following of the Courte, hee must not onely knowe, and speake to, also loue, and inuite at times, the Butchers, Vittlers, Fruitrers, Keepers, and Fosters, Fishmongers, and Poultrers, and other purueyers of the same:: Of whom hee shall alwayes haue asmuch neede of his prouision, as he shal haue neede of the iudges to shewe him Iustice when hee shall neede it. For meate, bread, wine, wood, haye, oats, and strawe, are commonly very deare it Court; for fewe of all these things are to bee bought in Court, but of others infinit things to be solde, to profite and gayne the poore Courtyers, that else had no shift to liue.
And yet is there a little more trouble in Court, and that is: that continually letters are sent to the Courtier The trouble courtyers haue with Friends, from his Friendes, to obtaine of the Prince or his Counsell, his dispatch in his priuate affaires, or for his seruants or tenants, or other his friends.
And many times these sutes are so ill welcome to the courtyer, that hee had rather haue pleasured his friend with a piece of mony, then they should haue layde vpon him so weightie a matter.
And besides this, there is yet another trouble: that the bringer of this letter must needes lye at the Courtyers house attending his dispatch: So that the Courtyer delaying his friends busines, augmenteth his griefe, and keeping the messenger there, increaseth his charge. And if perchance his busines be not dispatched, and the suite obtained, those that wrote to him will not thinke hee left it off, for that hee would not do it or take paines therin: but for that he wanted fauour and credite, or at least were very negligent in following their cause. And that that vexeth them throghly yet is, that their parents and friends thinke (which are [Page 590] in the countrey farre from Court, that this Courtyer hath all the Courtyers at his commaundement, that he may say and doe what he will there.
And therefore his Friendes, when they haue occasion to employ him in Court, and that they write vnto him, touching their affayres: and that hee hath now taken vpon him the charge and burden of the same, seeing himselfe after vnable to discharge that hee hath enterprised, and cannot as hee The griefe of th [...] courtyer, that cā not pleasure his friend. would satisfie his friends expectation: then hee falleth to dispaire, and wysheth hee had beene dead when hee first tooke vpon him this matter, and that hee made them beleeue he could goe through with that they had committed to him, beeing vnpossible for him hauing small credite and estimation' amongst the Nobilitie and Councellours.
Therefore I would neuer councell him that hath Brethren, Friendes, or other neere Kinsfolkes in Court, to goe seeke them out there, albeit they had matters of great weight and importance: on hope to be dispatched the sooner, by their credit, fauour, and suite. And for this cause, for that in Court there is euer more priuate malice and enuie, then in other places: wherefore they cannot bee reuenged, the one of the other, but must tarry a time: and when they see opportunitie, they set in foote to ouerthrowe, and secretly to put backe theyr aduersaries suite.
Now loe, these things, and other infinite plagues doe light vpon these vnfortunate courtiers, incredible happely to anie, but the olde and experienced Courtyer.
If the old and wise Courtier would count all the fauours and mischances: the dearth and abundance: the frendships and enmities: the contentation and displeasures: and the honor & infamy hee hath endured in the Court: I belieeue assuredly we should not be a little sorrie for that bodie that had suffered so much: but much more for that heart that had abidden all those stormes and broyles.
When the Courtyer seeth that hee is not heard of the Prince, nor spoken to of the beloued and fauoured of the The mishaps of the Court are more then the fauors. Court: and that the Treasurer doeth not dispatch him, and the Cofferer keepe backe his wages: it is a miserie to see him, and on the other side, a pleasure and pastime to heare what he sayes: cursing the wretched life of this world. And euen then, in his heate and rage, he teareth and blasphemeth GOD: and sweares accursedly, that thenceforth hee will forsake the vaine abuses of Courte, and leaue also the Trompries of the deceitfull world, avowing to enclose himself within precinct of Religious walles, and to take vpon him also religious habite.
Alas, if I fetched as many sighes for my sinnes, as Courtyers doe for their mishaps and disgraces: what a number would they come to? For a Courtyer, incontinent that hee feeleh himselfe sicke, that hee is alone, and reiected of his Friendes in Court, hee becommeth so heauie and pensiue, that with his deepe sighes, he pierceth the heauens on hye: and with his flowing teares he moystneth the Earth below. So that a man might more easily number the troubles of the stout and hardy Hercules then those which the Courtyer daily suffreth. And besides those manie wee haue recyted, yet further, these also we can recite: that their seruaunts robbe them: their Purse-bearers consume their money: ieasters & counterfait knaues lye euer vpon their reward: women picke their purses, and strumpets & bawds spoile them of all. But what shal I say more to you? If the poore Courtyer be full of feathers, euery man plumes him: but if he want Winges, there is no man hastie to [Page 591] plume him. And to conclude, in Princes Courts you shall finde no such trade of life, whereby you may satisfie euery man: For if the Courtier speake little, they will say he is but a foole, and if hee bee too large of tongue, they will say he is a glorious foole, if he bee free in expences, they will say hee is a prodigal foole, if he be scarce of his purse, they will say he is a couetous miser, if hee be alone, and solitary at home, they wil account him an hypocrite: and if hee visite others oft, they will say hee is a bold and troublesome man, if he haue any train of men following on him, they will say, he is a proud man, and if hee goe without company, that hee is poore and miserable. So that of Court, this may rightly be sayde: That it is a very Theater, where one mocketh & grinneth at another, and yet in the end they (all in a manner) finde themselues scorned and deceyued.
Now discoursing also of sleepe, doth the Courtier alwayes sleepe as much as he will? no surely, but as The Courtier wanteth many things hee would haue. much as hee may.
And touching his meate, hath hee alwayes that hee liketh? no truely, but he is forced to be contented with that he hath. And as for his apparrell, is hee clothed according to his will? no, no, but according to others fansies.
O vnhappy Courtier, that he spendeth the most part of his miserable life, in combing his head, washing his beard, wearing fayre and braue house: varnishing his sword and dagger, blacking his bootes, prouiding him of cloakes, buying him cappes, furring him gownes, and fitting himself with other small and needfull trifles: wasting in them all his owne goods, and that of his friendes.
I am not of that mind and opinion that others are, that say there are none in so great liberty as Courtiers bee, which should not bee sayde, and much lesse credited, sith wee see by dayly proofe, if they be in seruice, they are as slaues.
If they bee not in seruice with the King, or other noble men, they liue in poor estate. Now let every man say what hee will, where pouerty raigneth there liberty can haue no place. And there is nothing in the world deerer, then that wee buy with intreaty, and not with money. And therefore we must confesse, that Princes Courts are meeter to exercise the youth, then for the aged to liue there without rest: For young men haue more hardines, to away with the paines and troubles of the Court, then they haue yeares, to seeke the griefes and displeasures, they receyue thereby.
Now goe to the Court that list, procure office and authority that will: for hitherto, I neuer met or spake with man that was contented with the Court: For if he bee crept in fauour, he feareth euery houre to fall, and lose his credit: if euer hee bee once out of fauour, and in disgrace, he despaireth, hee shall neuer returne againe into fauour; and if he that goeth to the sea, committeth himselfe first to God before hee take ship; much more ought hee to doe it, that goeth to dwell in Court: For in the Sea, of a hundred ships, there doe not perish ten: but Few purchase fauor in the court of a thousand Courtiers, there commeth not three in fauour.
CHAP. II. Of Courtiers braules and quarrels, with the Harbingers for ill lodging.
After Lucullus the Romane his returne from Asia, in an Oration A speech of Lucullus, and may well bee applyed to euery Courtier. hee made before the Senate, hee sayde thus: I sweare vnto you by the immortall Gods (Fathers conscript) that in all this my iourney I felt no paine, nor trouble, neyther for the conduct and gouernement of mine army, nor for the rebellion of the people, nor for the absence of my friends, nor for the warre of the enemies, neyther for the long time, nor yet for the perill of my life: For all these things are incident to Souldiers and men of warre, and common to rulers in peace. But if you bee desirous to know what was my trouble, and that which grieued mee most, it was on the remembrance of the quiet rest I had at home: For as you know right well (Sacred Senate) during the time as a man lodgeth in other mens houses, hee is neuer at liberty.
And this word of Lucullus me thinketh euery Courtier might well apply to himselfe, for that hee is alwayes bound to doe seruice to the Master of the house where hee lodgeth, yea although hee receyue a thousand iniuries of him: yet therefore it is not lawfull for him to anger or displease him in any thing: Therefore in very ill and vnlucky howre is the Courtier arriued, when he must take his iorney in stead of rest, trauell for quietnes, misery for aboundance, bondage for liberty, and paine for pleasure. And albeit Courtiers abide many paines and troubles, yet this mee thinketh is the greatest, and least tollerable, when they must be lodged: reasoning of the paines, displeasures, fortunes & mishaps that men suffer. Little is that my penne doth write herein, & much lesse that my tongue doth speake in comparison of that the wofull heart doth abide. O how many things are there, that are felt euen at the very bottome of the heart, and yet dare not the tongue once vtter them? Truly, how poor a house soeuer the courtier hath in the Country, hee shoulde more esteeme it, then the best lodging that euer hee met with in Court; or else where. For at home he doth and commaundeth all that hee will: but in an other mans house, hee must take all that is giuen him.
A pilgrime or Traueller shal come into a City, where he shal see faire and goodly Churches, stately buildinges, rich gates, high wals, paued streetes, large market places, prouision inough aboundance of victuals, and numbers of strangers: and when hee hath seen all this, hee doth so little esteeme of them, that to returne againe to his poore home, hee trauelleth though it be all the night.
And therefore wee should not wonder at those, that doe not greatly Courtiers are rather grieued then relieued with the princely pompes of the Court. stray from their house, and that are but seldome in many places: but wee might well haue him in suspition, that continualy wandreth through strange Countries and houses: for notwithstanding the great wonders he seeth: & the great conuersation of amity, hee hath, or can finde, yet in the ende they are only the eies that are fed with the sight of other things, and not the hart that is contented with his owne: and also to see in Princes Courtes great treasure and riches, bringes vs cōmonly more griefe then delight: & the more his eyes are fed with view of [Page 593] faire dames of Courte, and princely pompe thereof, the greater sorrow assaulteth his heart, hee may not still enioy the same, And therefore the renowmed Focion, the Athenian captain, answered once certaine men, that said there were to bee solde in the Marketplace of Athens goodly stones, and rich iewells worthy the sight, howbeit hard to be bought, beeing helde at so hie a price by the Merchant that solde them. From my first youth (saide this philosopher) I made an Oath, neuer to goe see any Citie, vnlesse it were to conquer it, and yeeld it subiect to mee: neither to goe see Iewells, that I could not buye.
The great Emperour Traiane was much commended, for that he neuer tooke toye in his head, to goe see any thing, but for one of these 3. causes, that is to say: eyther to imitate that he saw, to buy it, or else clearely to conquer it. Oh worthy wordes of Focion and Traiane, and very meete to be noted and retained.
Now to speake more particularly of the troubles daily heaped on their The particular troubles of thē which follow the Court. necks that follow the Court, and that are to be lodged in diuers places, and strange houses. I say that if the poore courtyer doe depart at night from the Court, to repayre to his lodging, hee findeth oft times the host of his house and other his guests at home, already in theyr beds, and fast a sleepe: so that it happeneth sometimes he is faine to goe seeke his bed in another place, for that night. And also if he should rise early in the morning, to followe his matters: or to wayte vpon his Lord or Master, his Host perhappes and his housholde are not yet awake, nor styrring to open him the doore.
And further, if his Hoste be angrie and displeased, and out of time: who shall let him to locke his doores, the day once shutte in? and who should compell him to open his dores before it be brode day?
Truely, it is a great hap to be well lodged about the Courte, and much more to meete with an honest Hoste. For it hapneth oft, that the great pleasure and contentation we receiue, being lodged in a faire Lodging is lightly taken from vs, by the harde intreatie, and streight vsage of the Hoste of the same.
And in this is apparant, the vanity, fondnes, and lightnes of some Courtyers, that rather desire, and seeke for a faire and pleasaunt lodging: then for a good and profitable.
The ambition of the Courtyer is now growne to so great a follie, that hee desireth rather a faire lodging for his pleasure, then a commodious or profitable for his familie. For admit The Ambition of the Courtyers. the Harbinger doe giue them a good and commodious lodging, if it be not sightly to the Eye, and stand commodiously, they can not like of it, by no meanes. So that to content them, the Fouriers must needs prouide them of a faire lodging to the eye, though little handsome to lodge in: and yet sometimes they will hard and scant be pleased with that.
And if the Courtyer be of reputation, and beloued in Courte, I pray you what payne and trouble shall the poore Harbinger haue to content his minde, and to continue in his fauour? For, before master Courtyer will be resolued which of the 2. Lodgings he will take: the faire and most honorable, or the meane and most profitable, he bleedeth at the nose for anger, and his heart beates and leaps a thousand times in his bodie. For, his person would haue the good and commodious Lodging: and his follie, the pleasaunt and faire.
I neuer saw dead man complaine of his graue, nor Courtyer content with his Lodging. For, if they giue him a Hall, hee will say it wanteth a [Page 594] chimney, if they giue him a chamber, hee will say it lacketh an inner-Chamber: if they giue him a kitchen hee will say, it is too low and smoaky, and that it wanteth a larder, if they giue him a stable, that it wanteth a spence or storehouse, if they giue him the best and chiefest parts of the house, yet hee sayeth, he wanteth small and little houses of office, and if hee haue accesse to the well, he must also haue the commodity of the Base-Court.
And in fine, if they giue him a low paued Hall, to coole and refresh him in summer, hee will also haue a high borded Chamber for the winter, and possible hee shall not haue so many roomes at home in his owne house, as he will demaund in his lodging abroad. And therefore many thinges suffereth the Courtier in his owne house, that he will not beare with all in an Inne, or an other mans house. And it may bee also, that the Harbingers haue prouided them of a fayre and goodly lodging, where hee shall commaund both master, stuffe, and al other things in the house: and yet the Courtier shall mislike of it, finding fault it is too farre from the Court, & reputeth it halfe a dishonour, and an impairer of his credit, to be lodged so farre off, since others that are beloued, and in fauour in Court in deede, lye hard adioyning to the Court, or at the least not farre of: For this is an olde sayde saying, The neerest lodged to the Court, commonly the best esteemed of the Prince.
I haue seene many Courtiers offer large gifts and rewards, to intreate the Harbingers to lodge them neere the Court: but I neuer saw any that desired to be lodged neere the church; and this commeth, for that they rather glory to be right Courtiers, then good Christians.
And therefore Blondus reciteth in his booke De declinatione Imperit, that a Grecian called Narsetes (a Captain of Iustinian the Great) was wont to say oft, That he neuer remembred he Many rather glory to be right Courtiers tken good Christians. went to the sea, nor entred into the Pallace, not beganne any battell, nor counselled of warres, nor mounted on horsebacke, but that first hee went to the Church and serued God.
And therefore by the doings and saying of Narsetes, wee may gather that euery good man ought rather to incline to bee a good Christian, then to giue himselfe to armes and chiualry to be a right Courtier.
It hapneth many times, that after the Courtier bee come to his lodging, hee liketh of it well, and is well pleased with all: but when hee hath beene in others lodgings, and hath looked vpon them, straight way hee falleth out of liking of his owne, and thinketh himselfe ill lodged to others. And this misliking groweth not of his ill lodging but of an inward malice and spite hee hath, to see his enemy preferred to a better then his owne: For such is the secret hate and enuy, in Princes Courts (a thing common to Courtiers) that they disdaine not onely to thanke the Harbingers for their care taken of them, in placing them in good lodgings: but they must also complaine and speake ill of them, for the good lodgings they haue giuē to their Aduersaries, and companions better then that of theirs.
There is also a foule disorder in Court among the Harbingers, in appointing lodgings: and little modesty besides in Courtiers in as king them: For such there are, that many times, neyther they, nor their parents haue any such lodgings at home in their owne houses, as they will demand only for their horsekeepers and seruants: But the great pain of the Court is yet, that such nouels as come newly to the Court, they say they are of great estimation [Page 595] in the Countrey, rich and of an ancient house, and his Father of great authority and estimation; and when the truth is knowne, his fathers authority, and first estimation was, of good labourers, and husbandmen, their onely rents and reuenues consist, in that they gote by the dayly swet and labour of their persons, and their power and ability, in the rents of an other mans goods, and their liberty, in seruice and subiection of those that gaue them wages, and hired them by the day. And would to God their bloud were not tainted with some other notable blot.
There is a plague also in the Court which alwayes dureth, and neuer leaueth The Courtyer of least calling proues most troublesom. Court, & that is, that those that are alwayes least worth, and are of least calling, doe presume, and take vpon them most, and also are worst to please of all others.
And this they doe (their power being small) that they would supply, that in wordes & countenance, which they want in deeds and effects. Ilye if I saw not once in the country of Aragon, a Gentleman that hired a whole house, where himselfe and his family were very well lodged, and commodiously: & after that I remēbred, I met with him in Castilla, where he could not content himself with the charge of eight houses, besides his first hee was appointed to: and the occasion was, for that in Aragon hee payed for that house hee had, and for these he payed nothing: So that of an others purse, euery man coueteth to shew his magnificence, and to declare his follies: but whē they defray their own charge they are as hard as flint, and goe as neere to worke as may be-
It is very true, that if there be any disorder and trouble to bee lodged in the Court, it commeth also for the most part of the Harbingers, without whom the Courtiers could neuer be well lodged, although the Prince had commaunded they should be lodged neere him. Albeit in the court a man may easily exempt himselfe from the Princes counsell, and iustice of the same, hauing no sutes there, and from the counsel and affayres of wars, being no captaine: From the Sinod All Courtiers subiectto the authority of the Harbingers. of the Spirituality, being no Ecclesiasticall person: and from that of the Indians, going to no Magitians, from the conuentions of Marchants, keeping safely their Marchandise: and from the correction of the Lord high Marshall of the Court, not being foolish and insolent: yet neuerthelesse, there is no Courtier (be hee neuer so high or great in fauour) that can auoyde himselfe from the Harbingers authority, but hee must needs come vnder his lee, being in their power to dispose the lodgings as they thinke good: to lodge them honourably or meanely, to please or displease them, to lodge, or dislodge them. And if the Courtier happen at any time to quarrell, or fall out with them: I warrant him he shal be remembred of the Harbingers in his lodging, and possibly a Horsekeeper (yea perhapps his enemy) shall bee better lodged then he, or else hee may seeke his lodging in the streets, where he will: For all other iniuries or offences in Courte, whatsoeuer, the Courtier may easilie redresse them by iustice, but for those he receiueth of the harbinger, he must take them quietly, and be contented with them: For otherwise we shoulde not only offend them, but iniure our selues, & make them prouide vs of no lodging: so hereby wee should vtterly be dislodged, & vnprouided. And therfore they beare with many thinges in that office, which they would not doe in any other office: as for example: Those kind of officers must be much made of, of others well intreated, accōpanied, feasted, flattred, folowed, yea [Page 596] many times serued and wayted vpon. I meane in seruing their turne, annointing their hands, and alwayes enriching their gloues with sompeece of gold or siluer: and alas the silly Courtier that hath not such soueraign ointment in his boxe, to cure these aboue recited sores, but onely to serue his owne turne: if hee be not How a courtyer may make the Harbinget his friend. his kinsman, or neare allyed, let him yet at least get acquainted with him, and make him his friend: an easie thing to bring to passe, if hee doe not vexe him, nor giue him ouerthwart language, and sometimes he must inuite him to dinner and supper: For in the court there is no goodnes gotten, neyther by the King, by the beloued, by the noble men, by the honourable of his Councell, Treasurers, nor yet by the Harbingers, but in suffering them, and doing them alwaies good and acceptable seruice. And if perchance the Harbingers wrong you, and doe you displeasure, or that they should say, you were troublesome and importunate: yet be you wise for to beare with them in any case, & seeme not to heare them: For what loseth the Courtier, if hee beare now andthen with a few crooked words at the Harbingers hands? marry by forforbearing them, he happily commeth to be lodged the better.
Suppose the Courtier bee not alwayes lodged to his mind and desire, should he immediately complaine of them, or murmur at them? no sure, he he should but so doing shew himselfe of small education. For what skilleth it, though among many poundes of good meate, the Butcher sometimes mingle a morsell of liuer, lungs, or lights of the Beast. And therefore a man should not blame the poore Harbingers so much as they doe: for they are not commanded of the King to build new lodgings, but such as they are, to diuide them among the traine of his Court: So that they do lodge Courtiers in such as they finde, and not in those they would, adding thereto, that they haue regarde vnto their estates and demerits, and not to the affections and willes of the persons they lodge. For it were more reason they should appoint the greatest and best lodgings, to the noblest pesonages, & eldest seruants of Court, then to the late and new come Courtier, whose youth can better away How the Harbinger is to appoint his lodgings. with an ill nights lodging, then the gray hayres of the old Courtier. Otherwise, the seruice of the olde Courtier that hath spent his young yeeres in Princes Courts (to the great paine and trouble of their persons) and in his seruice, should for guerdon bee payde with ingratitude, if hee should not be preferred to the best commodious lodging for his ease, and also the first to be aduanced by the Prince before the young Seruiture.
Now if it be honest and reasonable, that the Harbinger haue greate consideration to the merites of him that hee lodgeth: Euen so it is fitte, the Courtier should weigh the presse of the Court, and incommodious place, where the Harbingers are constrained to lodge them: knowing that to day the Court remoueth to such a place where there are happily sixe thousand houses, and to morrow perhaps there are not a thousand, therefore if in such a place hee find but narrow Fustian to make him a doublet: let him take patience till such time as they remoue to another place, where they shall finde broad cloath inough to make them large clokes.
CHAP. III. How the Courtier should entreate his host or master of the house where hee, lyeth.
THe good and ciuill Courtier must also The Courtier must entrear his host well where hee lyeth. entreate his Hoast well where he lieth: for else, if hee come into his lodging brauling, and thretning, it may be, that besides hee will keepe his heart and good cheare secret frō him, he will not also open his chamber dores to him. There are in the Court such hare-braines and vnvndiscreet persons, that haue so little regard and respect to their honest hosts, that they doe nothing in their lodgings, but reuell and keepe ill rule, and do euen what they list, as though the house were theirs to commaund, and not giuen them onely for lodging: Whereof springs two exceeding euils, the one that they offend God: and the other, that the Prince is also il serued. For the house is not giuen them to commaund, but onely appointed for them to lodge in.
We reade in the life of the Emperour Seuerus, that he ordained in Rome, that if the owner of the house did intreate his guest and stranger ill, or that he did him hurt or displeasure, the stranger should accuse him before the Iustice, but in no wise braule nor quarrell with him in his owne house:
Plutarch in his Politikes also reciteth, that in the Temples of the gods, in the Realme of Dace, there was no liberty or safety for malefactors, saue in their their owne proper houses, which serued them for their only refuge, and inuiolable assurance: for they thoght that within the entry and gates of the same, none other but the Lords and Masters of the house might pretend any iurisdiction or Segnory.
Now, if among the Daces, no officer or Iustice could lay hold, or punish any man, so long as hee kept his, house: mee thinketh it is against all reason and humanity, that the Courtier should once offer his host an iniurious or vnseemely word.
Plato being one day reproued of his friends, for that hee would not rebuke his host Denis the Siracusian, who at the first receyued him very courteouslie, and afterwards vsed him ill: answered them thus.
My friend, to be angry with fools that shew vs pleasure, to take reuenge of children, whom wee haue brought vs, to beate a woman, with whom we must bee familiar, and to braue and braule with those, in whose houses we are lodged, neyther the Philosophers of Greece ought to counsell him, nor the noble heart once to thinke to doe it.
I cannot deny, but that there are some hostes very rude and vnciuill, that it is in maner an impossible thing to bring him to any honesty or ciuilitie. Howbeit, notwithstanding, I would wish the noble and worthy Courtier to take in iest, all the wrongs and iniuries done, or sayde to him by his host, or at the least to seeme, as though he heard them, not at all, otherwise, from the day the Courtier falleth out with him, hee may euen withall thinke presently to depart his house, and to seeke him a new lodging: for hee can neuer bee quiet in his lodging, where the goodman of the house, and hee cannot agree. And wheresoeuer the fine Courtier shall lodge, let him neuer sticke at the charges of a locke to his chamberdore, a hatch to the window, a degree [Page 598] or two to the stayres, a rope for the well, a harth to the Chimney, nor for a casemēt to the window: for these are but trifles, and they cost little though he leaue them to the house: [...]ow the Courtier may make his host beholden to him. yet with these trifles hee bindeth his host, and makes him beholding vnto him. Also hee may not forget somtime, to send home cates to his hoast, and to inuite him to dinner to him, and likewise if his hoast did present him with any thing, hee must accept it in very good part, and thanke him much for it: For other while, by small presents, great friendshippe is obtained.
The discreete Courtier must also forbid his Pages and seruants to come into his Hosts garden, to spoyle his fruit, or to gather his flowers, to steale his hennes, or to breake any thing of his: That they pull not vp the pauements of the house, paint his walles with coles or chalke, that they robbe not his Doue-house, nor make any noyse to steale his Coneyes, to breake his glasse windows, and to hurt or marre any thing about his house: For if many times they refuse to lodge strangers in their houses, it is not for want of lodging, or that the Masters should comber them: but for the displeasures and shrewde turnes they receyue by their pages, and seruants daily: Yet shall chance many times that a Citizen that hath a faire new house, goodly white wals, and trimly painted, shall haue a Courtier come to lodge in his house, that shal haue such a traine with him of seruants, young children and their Nephewes, which are so foolish, proud, and so rechles: that they breake the formes, throw downe Tables, paint and bedawd the walls, beate downe dores, runne thorough the seelings, steale the birdes, and doe a thousand other mischiefes and vnhappy turnes, so that the poore owner of the house had rather lodge an other time Egyptians & beggers, then such rude and harmeful Courtiers.
And therefore I haue seene in the Court, by reason of the seruants disorder, and ill rule, the masters commonly ill lodged, lodgings denied them, or after they had them to bee quite taken from them.
One of the necessariest things a Courtier should haue, is to keepe quiet and well conditioned seruants: otherwise it is to bee thought (as indeed the common saying is) the house to be ill gouerned, where the family & seruants are so ill conditioned and disordered.
And touching this matter, Aulus Gelius, De Noctibus Atticis sayth, that when Cornelius Gracchus was returned to Rome, after hee had been Consull a great while in the Isles Baleares, hee sayde these wordes before all the Senate. It is necessary for Courtiers to keepe quiet seruants.
You know (Fathers Conscript) I haue beene Chiefe Iustice and Consull thirteene yeares: during all which time I sweare to you by the immortall Gods, that to my knowledge I neuer did wrong to any mā, neyther any seruant of mine displeasure to any, nor done any thing that was not lawfull to bee done in the house where I lay.
Phalaris the tyrant, when he receiued any displeasure of the Agrigentines, hee caused his seruants to lodge in their houses with them, for the one and the other were so wicked, so vnthrifty, such quarrellers and brawlers, that he could not worke them a greater spight nor displeasure, then for to lodge them here and there in their houses.
There bee also in the Court some Courtiers, that are esteemed of euery man to bee of so euill behauiour and demeanour, their seruants and family of such lewd and naughty conditions, that their hosts are throughly resolued [Page 599] eyther not to receyue them into their houses, or if they bee compelled to it, to absent themselues for the time of their being there: rather then to suffer such iniuries and wronges, as they are sure they must take at their hands.
The Courtier must consider that The Courtier is to commaund his seruants courteously to aske of his Host all needfull things. sometimes hee hath need of a bottell of water to drinke, a broom to sweepe his chamber, a platter or dish to serue him withall, of a Table cloth and napkins, and of a towell for his hands, and his face, of a stoole to sit on, and some kettle for the kitchin: and in such case he should charge his seruaunts courteously to aske these things of his host, and not to take them perforce and vnasked.
Euery man desireth to bee Master in his owne house, and bee hee brother, cosen, or friend, hee will not suffer him to beare as much rule in his owne house, as himselfe. So that hee will be lesse offended with the hurt & losse of those things that he hath lent, and were gently asked him: then with those, which vnknowne to him by force, and against his wil, they haue taken from him, yea though they doe bring thē afterwards whole & sound againe.
And this our liberty is so much set by, that we shall see sometimes a man for his pleasure, play and lose a hundred Crownes of gold, and say neuer a word: and on the other side, if one breake the least glasse in his house, hee will cry, and rage to the heauens, I remember when I was a Courtier, and went to visite an other Courtier, a friend of mine, that was sicke in his lodging. I fell a chiding, and rebuking the host, for that I found him exclayming and crying out of the Pages, which playing at the ball, had broken him a little lampe of glasse, and he answered me thus: I cry not sir, for the losse of my Lampe, which is a halfe penny matter, nor for the oyle that they spilt, worth a farthing, but onely for the liberty they rob me of, and for the small account they make of me.
The good and wise Courtier may not bee too familiar with his Hosts wife, nor suffer his seruants to bee busie with the maides of the house, more then to speake to them for their necessaries: for in this case, they should lesse hurt the Master of the house, to ransacke and spoyle his house, and all that he had in it, then to take from him his honour and good name. To cast the beds on the flower, to breake the dores and windowes, to vnpaue the stone, to paint and blacke the walles, or to make any noyse in the house, are all of them things, yet sometimes tollerable, though not honest nor ciuill: but to take his wife, and to abuse her, it is neyther lawfull nor possible to dissemble it, much lesse to suffer it: for it were too much shame & reproch to the husband to abide it, & high treasō and crime abominable for the Courtier to doe it. Now since men are frayle, and that they cannot, nor will not subdue their passions and filthy motions of the flesh, there wanteth notwithstanding, not women in Princes Courts, whose loue and friendship they may easily embrace, which though they were all commanded to auoyde the Court, and the verge of the Court, yet it could not be chosen, but some might secretly continue still in Court, to entertaine the Courtly Courtiers. For if in the Court, there Too many women about the Court. bee kept a table of play two moneths onely in the yeare, all the yeare long besides they finde the streetes full stored of common women, when the yeare is most plentifull, and fruitfull of all thinges, yet still there lacketh some prouision of victuals in the Court, but of such women, there is neuer no want, but rather to many.
[Page 600] And therefore wee haue not sayde without great reason, that it were too much treason and dishonestie for the Courtyer to fall in Loue with his Hostesse: For in doing it, hee should doe her husband too much wrong, defame the wife, and offend her Friendes and neighbors, and vtterly vndo himselfe.
For Suetonius Tranquillus reciteth, that Iulius Caesar caused a Captaine of his to be beheaded, onely for slaundering and defaming of his Hostesse, the which he did not, tarying for the complaint of her Husband, nor the accusation of any other.
And the Emperour Aurelianus, seeing one of his men at a windowe one day pulling his Hostosse by the sleeue, caused his hand to bee striken off immediately: althogh both his Hostesse and he swore, he did it but in ieast, and to no other intent.
Plutarch in his Booke De Matrimonio saith: that there was a law among the Licaonians, that if any stranger did but onely talke with his Hostesse, his toung should bee cut out of his head, and if hee had passed further, that he should then loose his head.
Macrobius also in his Saturnales, reciteth, that amongst the Romaines it was reputed a great infamie, if any man came, and praysed the beautie and manners of the Mistresse of the house, where he Lodged: For, in praising her, hee lets them vnderstand he knew her: and knowing her, he spake to her, and speaking to her, he opened his heart to her, and this doing, hee planely defamed her, and made her to be euill reported of.
Aulus Gellius writeth, that the like punishment was inflicted on him that had carnall participation with any of the Ʋestall virgines: the selfe same was also executed on him that procured any infamie to his Hostesse, where he was lodged.
Which punishment was, eyther to be cut in the middest, and quartred in foure partes, or else to bee stoned to death aliue.
The good Courtyer must also haue The care the Courtier ought to haue of his Apparell. an other great regarde, and that is, to commaund his seruants to looke well to his Ryding-apparell, and such as are lent him of Courtyers, to weare otherwhiles, to see that it be kept clean, and well-brushed, and aboue all safely deliuered where it was borrowed.
For commonly the hors-keepers haue the horses lowsing-cloathes and theyr Maisters Foote-cloath more neate and cleanly, then the Groomes and Pages of the Chamber haue his Apparrell: and this proceeds of their great sloth and negligence.
And truely this passeth the bounds of shamefast degree: yea, and commeth much to charge the Courtyers conscience, the smal account he hath, so to let his garments and Apparrell, and all other his moueables, to bee spoyled and lost.
And this happeneth very oft by the negligence of their pages & seruants: which now throweth them about the Chambers, dragges them vppon the ground: now sweepes the house with them, now they are full of dust, then tattred and torne in pieces: here their hose seam-rent, there their shooes broken: So that if a poore man come afterwards to buye them, to sell againe, it will rather pitie those that see them, then giue them any courage to buye them. Wherfore the Courtyer ought not to bee so carelesse, but rather to thinke vppon his owne things, and to haue an eye vnto them. For, if he goe once a day to his stable to see his horses, how they are kept and looked too, hee may likewise also take another day in the weeke, when hee may finde leysure to see his Wardroppe, how his Apparell lyeth.
But what pacience must a poor man take, that lendeth his implemēts & apparrell [Page 601] to the Courtiers? that neuer layeth them abroad a sunning, to beate out the dust of them, nor neuer layeth them in water, to wash & white them, be they neuer so foule. And albeit the beds and other implements lent to the Courtier, bee not of any great value, yet it is not fitte they should be throwne at their tayle, and kept filthily: for as charily and daintily doth a poore labouring, and hus, bandman keepe his woollen coverlet, and setteth as much by it, as doth the iolly Courtier by his quilt, or ouerpaine of silke.
And it chanceth oft times also that though at a neede the poore mans bed costeth him lesse money, then the rich mans bed costeth him: yet doth it serue him better, then the rich and costly bed serueth the Gentleman or Nobleman. And this to be true, we see it by experience, that the poore husbandman or Citizen sleepeth commonly more quietly, and at his case, in his poore bedde and cabben, with sheetes of towe, then doth the Lord or rich Courtier, lying in his hanged Chamber and bed of sickenesse, wrapped in his finest Holland sheetes, who still sigheth and complaineth.
And finally, wee conclude, that then when the Court remoueth, and that the Courtier departeth from his lodging where he lay, hee must with all courtesie thanke the good man and How the Courtier is to demeane himselfe at his departure from his lodging. good wife of the house for his good lodging, and courteous intertainment hee hath had of them, and must not sticke also to giue them somewhat for a remembrance of him, and besides, giue certaine rewards among the maides and men seruants of the house, according to their ability, that he may recompence them for that is past, and winne their fauour for that is to come.
CHAP. IIII. What the Courtiers must doe to win the Princes fauour.
DIodorus Siculus saith That the honour & reuerence the Egyptians vsed ordinarily to their princes was so great, that they seemed rather to worship them, then to serue them, for they could neuer speake to them, but they must first haue licence giuen them.
When it hapned any Subiect of Egypt to haue a suite to their Prince, or to put a supplication to them, kneeling to them, they sayde these words:
Soueraigne Lorde, and Mightie Prince, if it may stand with your Highnesse fauour and pleasure, I will boldly speake, if not I will presume no further, but hold my peace.
And the selfe reuerence and custom had towards God, Moses, Aaron, Tobias, Dauid, Salomon, and other Fathers of Egypt, making like intercessiō when they spake with God, saying, Domine, mi Rex, Si inueni gratiam in oculis tuis, loquar ad Dominummeum.
O my Lord and King, if I haue found fauour in thy sight, I will speake vnto thee: if not, I will keepe perpetuall silence: For there is no seruice ill, when it is gratefull and acceptable to him, to whom it is done: as to the contrary none good, when it pleaseth not the party that is serued: For if he that serueth be not in his masters fauor he serueth, he may wel take paine to his vndoing, without further hope of his good wil or recompence. [Page 602] Wherfore touching that I haue said, I inferre, that hee that goeth to dwell and abide in the Court, must aboue all, endeuour himselfe all hee can to obtaine the princes fauour, and obtaining it, hee must study to keepe him in his fauour: For it should little preuaile the Courtier to bee beloued of all otherr, and of the Prince onely to be misliked. And therefore Alcamidas the Grecian, being once aduertised by a friend of his, that the Athenians did greatly thirst for his death, and the Thebans desired his life: hee answered him thus: If those of Athens thirst for my death, and them of Thebes likewise desiring my life, I can but bee sorry and lament. Howbeit yet, if K. Philip my soueraigne Lord and Master, holde me still in his grace and fauour, and repute me for one of his beloued, I care not if all Greece hate & maligne me, yea, and lye in waite for me.
Indeed sir, it is a great thing to get into the princes fauour, but when he hath gotten it, doubtlesse it is a harder matter to know how to keepe it: For to make them loue vs, and to win their fauour, wee must doe a thousand manner of seruices: but to cause them to hate and dislike of vs, the least displeasure in the world sufficeth. And therefore the paine and trouble of him that is in fauour in the Court is The troble of him that is in fauour in the court is great. great, if hee once offend, or bee in displeasure: For albeit the prince do pardon him his fault, yet he neuer after returneth into his fauor againe: so that to conclude, hee that once onely incurreth his indignation, hee may make iust reckoning neuer after, or maruellous hardly to be receyued againe into fauour. Therefore sayeth the diuine Plato in his bookes De Republica, That to be a King and for to raigne, to serue and to be in fauour, to fight, and to ouercome, are three impossible thinges, which neyther by mans knowledge, nor by any diligence can be obtained: onely remaining in the hands, and disposing of fickle fortune, which doth deuide, and giue them where it pleaseth her, and to whom she fauoureth best.
And truely Plato had reason in his saying, for to serue, and to be beloued is rather happe and good fortune: then industry or diligence.
Since wee see oft times, that in the Court of princes, those that haue serued but three yeares onely, shall bee sooner preferred and aduanced, then such one, as hath serued perhaps 20. or 30. yeares, or possible all his life time.
And further, hee shall bee both displaced, and put out of seruice, by meanes of the other. And this proceeds not through his long and faithfull seruice hee hath done, but onely by reason of the good happe that followeth him.
Although Plato telleth, that to gette Realmes and Seigniories, to ouercome battels, and to be fauoured and beloued of princes, be things graunted to vs, rather by hazard and fortune, then by force of good works and laudable actes, or by long toyling in painefull seruice: yet the Noble and stout heart therefore should not cease at any time to enterprise, and manfully to execute in euery occasion presented to him, to atchieue to fame, and honour: neyther for any pain and labour to lose the hope to obtaine his pretended purpose: for men sometimes Want of audacity hinders good fortunes. lose many things, rather through timerousnes, and want of audacity, then for that they lacke good happ or fortune. To see in the Court of princes some to bee richer, more honoured, more noble, more esteemed, better beloued, more wayted vpon, better serued, and better welcome then others, and more seared then others: we may by these tokēs know, that fortune [Page 603] hath not vsed to reward those with such fauours and preferments, which liue at home idely, and much lesse Courtiers, who liue in Court with all pleasure and delicacie, wherewith they are neuer wearied.
Let no man bee so fond to thinke that fortune is so bountifull and liberall, The reason why fortune rayseth some, and throweth down others that for his authority or onely thought, shee will be once moued to lift him out of misery, to exalt him to higher place and dignity, without som secret and priuate respect had to his vertue: For when shee many times vpon a suddaine rayseth any to high and great estate, it commeth by the merites of him that is exalted, or thorow the displeasure of him that is throwne downe, in whose roome she hath placed an other in fauour with her. As wee reade of Iulius Emilius, for a time high in fauour, and afterwards in great disgrace with the Emperour Constantius, in whose place and roome succeeded afterwards an other named Alexander, who beeing one day reproued by some of his friendes of ingratiude towards them (that saide they were causers and furtherers of his honour and preferment) aunswered them in this manner: Masters, if I am come into such fauour with the Emperour, my good and gracious Lord, succeeding in the place of Emilius, truly it was more by reason of his deserued fall, then by your obtained means or requests: Fortune and his heauy destiny, hauing so willed & ordained it, more to ouerthrow and displace him of his room and credit he was in, then to aduance and preferre mee to the same.
The which I say, to aduise the Citizen and Gentleman that goeth to the Court to be a Courtier, to the end hee be not fickle headed, and light of beleefe, to thinke that immediately he shall come to such authority, that he may easily commaund all that he will: neyther that hee should so much despayre, and be hopelesse, but that by time (in seruing well) he might come to be in as great fauour, as any other about the Prince.
Wee see dayly such change and alterations in the Common-weale, and fortune to turne her vnstable wheele so oft, that many times the administration of the Common weale is in his hands and rule, of whom before they made little or none account: and therefore I say to you, and againe returne to tell you, that the Courtier that seeketh to come into his Princes fauour, and to be beloued of him, and The course he must take that would bee in his Princes fauour. that coueteth to be well reputed of in Court, must endeauour himselfe to bee very honest, and as neere as may be, faultlesse of life, and true and faithfull in his charge or office hee taketh vpon him: For the good opinion that men haue of a man, is euer the first degree to attaine to the Princes fauour: For there is no man in the world, of whatsoeuer estate or condition hee bee, so vitious and lasciuious, but at the least hee desireth to haue an honest and vertuous man in his house: so that a man may say, that the good, and godly life is the readiest meane & way (where euer the person be) to bring him soonest into the Princes fauour, and to make him to bee beloued generally.
Wherefore Phalaris the Tirant writing to an Emulator of his, sayde these words vnto him: I confesse, thou art an honest man, but thou wilt not deny mee also, that all those thou keepest in thy house, be wicked persons, and of an euill life: a thing which in my house thou shalt finde all contrary: For although I am a Tirant, at least yet I loue, that no ill disposed person eate bread in my house: So though I am laden with many vices: yet am I accompanied also with many wise and learned men.
[Page 604] The diuine Plato came from Greece into Scicilia, onely to see Dionisius the Syracusan, and not Plato himselfe alone but also diuers other Philosophers, in company with him, whom he did not onely honor and entreat well, but also sawe they wanted nothing fit, or necessary for them.
Many times Dionisius was wont to say these words. I am Captaine of the Rhodians, sith I defend them from the Affricans, and king of the Affricans, because I gouerne them: and friend of the The saying of Dionisius to Plato & other Philosophers that came to visite him. Italians, because I offend them not: and Father of the Philosophers, because I help to relieue them in all their necessities: & the Scicllians call mee a tyrant, because they see I leaue not to punish them, and keepe them vnder.
By these two examples we may gather, that the tirants being friends to vertuous and honest men, much more and of necessity ought the good and iust Princes to be. Also the Courtier must take great heed hee be not arrogant, and a lyer, a flatterer and dissembler: for those and such like faults are rather woods and by-paths, vtterly to lose a man: then a plaine high way to bring him into fauour and credit. And although by chance there haue beene some, that with all these faults haue notwithstanding crept into fauour: yet wee will shew them a hundred, that onely for those vices haue beene cast out of fauour and credit both: For commonly, all those that by the fauor of wicked Princes beginne to bee great, and of some honour, and that study by all disshonest and vnlawfull meanes to continue and keepe themselues in credit and fauour: Albeit for a time wee see them raigne and flourish in prosperity: yet that lasteth not long, neyther is it perpetuall, but a time commeth againe, when we see them fall, and quite cast of, to theyr great shame and vtter vndoing.
There are many that knoweth and vnderstandeth the Princes Court but meanely, or not at all, which beleeue that for being well spoken, and being carefull and diligent in their busines and affayres, they should the sooner for that come in fauour and credite before others: but in the end their hope and imagination is nothing, not aunswering any thing their desire: for as there are in Court many greene heades, and gracelesse couertures, which are of no reputation, nor any thing set by, neyther deseruing to bee well thought of: so are there many wise heades and beloued Courtiers, greatly esteemed and reputed of.
And this for their owne good demerites, and by meanes also of the others wicked abuse and disorder. Sue tonius Tranquillus reciteth, that Scilla the Consull, beeing a mortall enemy of the Marians, (of which faction was also Iulius Caesar) sayde: that from Caesars infancy, his wisedome made him more to bee feared and wondred at: then euer his stout and valiant courage he shewed.
Plutarch writing to Tratan, sayde. I assure thee (Soueraigne Prince) I doe more esteeme and honour thy person, then I doe care for all thy Empire besides: For I haue seene thee doe a thousand good things to deserue it, but I neuer saw thee once desirous to haue it.
And sure in my opinion, I verily thinke there is no better Alchemy in Court, to grow to sodaine Wealth, & to acquire the Princes fauour: then that the fame of his good life should rather resound his praise to the Prince thereby to make him knowne vnto him: then the respect of his Noble house or progeny.
That Courtier also that craueth his Princes grace, must take heed in any wise hee bee not companion with rash and hasty persons, whose vnstable heades mislike of euery state, still deprauing all other vertues. Such [Page 605] Fellow-mates and companyons, the wise Courtyer must in any case refuse to be conuersant with.
I must aduise him also, hee beware he be not rash of speeche, nor that he speake yll of any man. For, it is a right kinde of treason, to detract or backebyte our Friends: and much more the Prince, to whom wee wholly owe our dutie and alleageance. And therefore the wise and vertuous Courtyer must flye from this company as farre as hee Backbyting is a kinde of treason, especial [...]y against princes. can, that are possessed with such vaine humours and passions of minde: For such kinde of men, will neuer counseli vs to serue well, nor to beware of liberall speaking, but will rather infect vs, and bring vs to their naughtie vaine humour, and make vs bee deemed as bad as themselues (though wee be not so,) onely for keeping them companie.
Like as in Common-weales, there are seditious heads, which moue and and styrre vp the poore Commons to rebellion: euen so in Princes Courts, there are the like factious heads, that seeke to winne good will of courtiers: and so to styrre vp their mindes also, to tumult and sedition: which because they haue no way to come vp, and grow in fauour, do detract, and speak ill of those that are in Fauour and authoritie.
One of these abiects, and inferior sort, shall go to the house of another, (in like disgrace and discredite that himselfe is in:) and there these companyons shall open theyr throates against the Prince, and his Court: saying: The King careth not for his Subiects: Talking of the high mindes and countenaunces of the beloued and fauoured of Court: of the affections of the Counsell, of the parciality and enmitie of the Court: of the want of munition for warres, & of the fall and decay of the common-wealth: and thus with these leaud & vncomely discourses, they spend the long and dolefull nights of Winters season; and therewithall also, the long and hot Sunnydayes of Summers time.
Adrian the Emp: being once in formed, that ther met and assembled together daily, at the house of one Lucius Turbon, a number of the seditious and The law of A drian the Emperour againest sedicious persons. factious sort of Rome, which were offended with him, & conspired against him: to preuent them of insurrection, proclaymed presently through Rome, and enacted it for a law, that all Courtyers, that assembled there, should lose their heads, and all the Romains should be banished.
All this that we haue spoken, is to banish vices from Princes Courts if it may be: For now-adayes, as there are many houses of ordinarie Tables, and and numbers of Dycing-houses, for all manner of play: so is there also in the Court, besides the Groom-porters, other Chambers where they meete, to murmur at each mans doings.
And as there are some that say: Goe, Let vs goe to such a mans house, and there wee shall finde Playe enough: and Good fellowshippe, to passe the Time away as wee will, &c. Euen so these others say, Goe, we will goe to such a chamber, and there we shal meet with our companyons and good-fellowes, where wee may talke liberally, and at our pleasure, without checke or controll of anie.
In famous be that house, where there is no other exercise, but play and riot: and accursed bee that, where they cannot occupye themselues, but in defaming and back-byting their Bretheren and neighbours. For to conclude, it were lesse euill to play, and loose their money, then to robbe and spoyle his neighbour of his good name.
Now to get into the Princes fauour, it helpeth much to consider, wherein the Prince taketh his chiefest delight, and whereto he is best affected: whether [Page 607] to Musicke, Hunting, Flying, Ryding of horses, or Fishing, running, or Leaping: or any other actiuitie whatsoeuer it bee. And his Affect and desire (beeing once knowne and obserued) hee must giue himselfe whollie to loue that the Prince loueth, and to follow that that he followeth. And as Noble Princes comonly are giuen to their wills, to like of some pastimes, better then others: so doe they shew themselues more fauorable and gratious, to some of their seruants, then others: and rather to those whom only they see conforme and agreable with theyr affections, then to such as are always most diligent and painfull about them, to doe them the best seruice they can.
The curious Courtyer may account him selfe happie, if hee can frame him selfe to commende that the Prince alloweth, and likewise to disalow of that the prince misliketh: and though perhaps hee were many times of the contrarie opinion: hee may well thinke and belieue to himselfe what he liketh best, but in no case to vtter that hee thinketh, nor yet to make any countenance to the contrary.
The Emperour M: Aurelius neuer dranke other then red wine: and because hee was informed, that Torquatus the Romaine for his sake, did not onely refraine from drinking Whitewines, but did also plant his vynes with red-grapes: hee made him Censour of Rome, and gaue him the warde of the gate Salaria in the saide Cittie.
In eating and drinking, in hunting, and Tilting, in peace and in warre, in youthfull sportes, and graue matters: the wise Courtyer must alwayes follow the steppes and will of his prince, and imitate him in the same, the best he can.
And if it bee beneficiall for the Courtyer, to obtaine the fauour of his Prince, and to bee esteemed of him: let him in no wise enterprize to talke to much vnto him; For, by continuall frequenting the Prince, it cannot otherwise fall out, but hee shall both trouble him, and be thought a proud, arrogant, and an importunate foole of him. And if the Courtyer hath no graue and weighty matters to moue the Prince in, to what purpose doth hee seeme to molest and importune the King?
We say in weighty matters to communicate with him. For to talke with the Prince, and to trouble his eares with tryfles and matters of small moment, hee should bee reputed of the hearers a rash man: and of the King himselfe, held but for a witles foole.
Let vs consider a little what is fit for the Courtyer to doe, and what becommeth him best, and whether it be lawfull for him to conferrs with the Prince, and then wee shall come to know, if it be decent for him to speake ofte to the Prince?
Therfore to go to the King to speake ill of any man, I thinke no wise man will offer to do it: and if it be to giue him secret intelligence of anything: he must first doubt, whether the King will belieue him or no? and to thinke to counsell him, it is a token of a light head: and to presume to sit with the Prince, and to bee merry with him, to passe the time away, let euery man beware he runne not into that error, nor that hee once prease to doe it.
To send to reproue a Prince, I know not what hee is that would be so foolish hardie, as once to dare open his lips against him. And to slatter him (if the Prince be wise, he will understand him) and if hee, finde him once, it is enough to turne the Flatterer to great displeasure: yea, and to put him quite out of fauour with him. And therefore to liue in surety, and auoyde these dangers, me thinks it is best to speake but seeldome vnto him. Lucullus [Page 607] was a great friend to Seneca, and was also Gouernour of Scicilia, and demaunding one day of Seneca, What he might do that might be acceptable to Nero his Lord and Master. Seneca answered him thus.
If thou desire to bee acceptable to Princes, Doe them many seruices, and giue them few words.
And so likewise the diuine Plato sayde in his bookes de Repub That those that haue to moue the Prince in any thing, in any case be briefe: for in delating too much, they should both comber the prince, and make him also not giue attentiue eare, neither could hee haue leysure to heare them nor patience to tarry them. And hee sayde further, Those matters and subiects they treate with princes in, and that are vsed to bee tolde them, ought to be graue and sententious: eyther tending to commodity of the wealepublike, to his honour or profite, or to the seruice of the King, to whom he speakes.
These counsels and aduertisements of Plato and Seneca (in my poor opinion) deserue to be noted and had in memory. And notwithstanding all that I haue spoken, I say yet further to you, that there is nothing disposeth the prince better to loue and fauour his seruants, then to see them diligent in seruice, and slow in speaking. For to rewarde him onely that seekes it by meanes of his tongue, and by words: It is onely in our free willes to doe it: but to recompence him that by his diligent seruice, onely craueth a good turne, and not in words, wee are in conscience bound to it: And hereof springeth the vulgar prouerbe: The Good seruice demāds recompence, though the tongue bee silent. good seruice is demaund sufficient, though the tongue be silent.
CHAP. V. What manners and gestures become the Courtier when hee speaketh to the Prince.
WHen the Courtier determineth to speake to the Prince, hee must first shew himselfe vnto him with great reuerence, before he come at him, and if the the King be set, hee must kneele to him vpon one knee, with his cappe in his left hand, holding it neyther too farre, nor too neere his body, but rather downwards towards his knee, with a good grace and comely fashion, not too lustily, nor too much boldly, but with a set shamefast grauity, putting himselfe on the left hand of the prince to speake with him, whether he bee sitting or standing: For placing our selues on the left hand, wee leaue the King on the right, as duty willeth vs: For the right hand belongeth euer to the best person.
Plutarch sayth, that in the banquets the Kings of persia made, they sate him, whom they loued, and made most account of, cheeke by cheeke, and on the left hand of the prince, where the heart lyeth: saying, that those whome they loued with their heart, should bee set downe also on that side the heart lay, and in no other place.
Blondus sayeth to the contrary, that the Romans did honor the right hand so much, that when the Emperour entred into the Senate, no man durst euer put himselfe on his right hand. And he sayth moreouer, that if a yong man were perchance found sitting on the right hand of an old man, or the [Page 608] Setuant on the vpper hand of his maister: the Sonne on the right-hand of his Father, or any Page, Prentice, or Seruing man, on the vpper-hand of a Burgeis or citizen: they were no lesse punished by Iustice for that faulte and offence, then if they had done any notable crime or delict.
Whosoeuer will speake vnto the Prince, must speake with a soft voyce, and not too hastily. For if hee speake too lowde, those that stand by, shall heare what hee sayth to the King: and in speaking too fast, the King shall not easily vnderstand what he saith. And hee must also, ere he speake vnto the Prince, premeditate long before what hee will say to him: and put into him good wordes, and aptly placed: For, wise men are more carefull what wordes their Tongues should vtter, then what their hands should doe.
There is a great difference betwixte speaking well and doing well: For in the end the hand can but strike and offend: but the Tongue can both offend and defame.
Euen when the Courtyer is telling his tale to the Prince, let him be aduised in all his actions and gestures, and that he play not with his cap from one hand to an other: much lesse that he behold the Prince too earnestly in the face. For in the one he should be taken for a foole, and esteemed in the other for a simple Courtyer.
He must take great heed also, that he spit not, coffe, nor hawke, when hee speakes to him: and if it be so hee be constrained by Nature to it, then let him holde downe his head, or at least turne at one side, that he breath not in the Kings face.
Plinie writing to Fabatus, sayth: that the Kings of India, neuer suffered any man (in speaking to them) to approch so neere them, that their breath might come to their face. And they had reason to do it, to auoyd strong and vnsauorie breaths, growing rather of the indisposition of the stomacke, or of the putrefaction of the Lungs, or of the corruption of the braine.
And if the Courtyer haue to speake with the King after dinner or supper, Let him beware hee eate no Garlycke, nor Onyons, nor drinke wine without Things to be eschewed of him that would speake with the King. water. For if he sauour of garlicke or onyons, the King may thinke hee lacketh discretion, to come with those Sents to his presence: or if his breath were strong of Wine, that hee were a drunkard.
Hee must be very circumspect also that when hee speaketh to the King, he speake not with his Head, as well as with his Tongue: nor that hee play not with his hands, nor his feete, nor that he stroke his beard, nor winke with his eyes: For such fonde countenances and gestures, doe rather become a Foole or iester, then a ciuill or honest Courtyer.
And in his discourse with the prince that hee exceede not in superfluous words, more then shall only be needfull, and touching his matter: and not to seeme in his prefence to depraue, or detract any man. Hee may honestly alledge, (and that without reproache) that seruice hee hath done him: but not to laye before him others faultes and imperfections.
For, at such a time it is not lawfull for him to speake yll of any man, but onely to communicate with him, of his owne affayres. And he may not go so farre also, as to remember him with too great affection, the bloud spent by his Auncestors in his seruice: nor the great actes of his Parents: For this onely word saide to the Prince, I did this, better pleaseth, and liketh the Prince, then to tell him a hundred other words, of that his predecessours had done.
It pertayneth only to women, and they may iustly craue recompence of [Page 609] the Prince for the liues of their husbands lost in the Princes warres: but the valiant & worthy Courtier ought not to demaund recompence, but for that he onely hath done by pearsing In what sort the Courtier is to demand recompeuce of the prince launce, and bloudy sword.
He must beware also that hee shew no countenance to the King of insatisfaction, neyther to be passioned in casting his seruice in the Princes teeth saying, All others haue been recompenced saue onely him, whom the Prince hath cleane forgotten: For Princes will not that wee onely serue them, but that we also (at their willes and pleasures) tarry for recompence, and not to haue it when wee gape, or are importune for it.
Howbeit, it is lawfull notwithstanding, humbly and lowly, without choler or passion, to put the Prince in remembrance of all that wee haue done for him, and of the long time we haue spent in seruing him. Also the curious Courtier shall not shew himselfe to dislike at all of the Prince, neyther by heaping of many words, to induce him to hear him with the better good will: For mens hearts are so prone to ill, that for one onely vnpleasant or ouerthwart word spoken to them, they lightly forget a thousand seruices done them.
Socrates being one day demanded what hee thought of the Princes of Greece, answered: There is no other difference betweene the names, and propeties of the gods, & that of princes, but that the gods were immortall, and these mortall.
For these mortall princes vse in a manner the like authoritie heere in earth, that the Gods immortall do in Heauen aboue.
Saying, further also, that I alwaies was, am, and will bee of that minde, that my mother Greece remain a common weale.
But since it is determined to bee gouerned by princely Monarchy, I wish them in al, and for al, to acknowledge their obedience and allegiance to their King and Soueraigne: For when they would otherwise vse it, they may bee assured, they shall not onely goe against mortal Princes, but also against the eternall God.
Suetonius Tranqutllus sayth, that Titus the Emperour being aduertised that the Consuls would kill him, and vsurpe his Empire, aunswered thus wisely.
Euen as without the diuine will and prouidence I could neuer haue possessed the Emperiall Crowne: so without their permission & sufferāce, it lyeth in no mans power to depraue mee of it: For to vs men it pertayneth onely to keepe the Emperiall iurisdiction, and to the gods alone to giue and defend it: Which wee haue spoken, to the end no man presume to be reuenged of his Prince, neyther in word nor deede: for to speake ill of him, wee should rather purchase vs their high indignation and displeasure, then procure vs any cause or suggestion to be reuenged of him.
Let the good Courtier bee also aduised, that in talking with the Prince he bee not too obstinate, to contende with the Prince, or any other in the Princes presence: For this name of arrogant and selfe willed, becommeth not the person of a wise Courtier: For The Courtier shoulde not be obstinate. we know, that in sport, and argument euery man desireth to ouercome, how trifling soeuer the matter bee: And therefore wee reade in the Life of the Emperour Seuerus, that Publius the Consull iested one day with Fabritius his Companion, and tolde him he was in loue.
Whom Fabritius answered: I do doe confesse, it is a fault to bee in loue, but yet it is a greater faulte for thee to bee so obstinate as thou art: for loue proceedeth of wit and discretion, [Page 610] but obstinacy commeth of folly and great ignorance.
If perchance the King aske the Courtiers opinion in those matters, they discoursed, if he know his opinion to agree with the Princes, Let him therfore tell it him hardly: but if it be contrary, let him holde his peace, & not contend against him, framing som honest excuse to conceale his opinion. How princes are to be spoken to, if they be in an error. But if perhaps the King were obstinate, and bent to his opinion in any thing, and that through his selfe will, and obstinacie, he would do any thing vnreasonable or preiudiciall to his Common-wealth, and that great detriment might come thereby: yet for all this, in such case the Beloued Courtier should not at that instant be too plain with him, to let him vnderstand his error, neyther yet should hee suffer him altogether to passe his way vntouched, but in some fine manner and proper words (as may become the place best) to giue him to vnderstand the truth.
But to vse it with more discretion, hee shall not need before them all to open his whole mind, but to keepe his opinion secret, expecting a more apter time, when the King shall be apart in his Priuie Chamber, and then franckely to tell him his whole minde, with all humility and reuerence, and to shew him the plaine truth, without keeping any one thing from his knowledge: For otherwise in telling the King openly, he should make him ashamed? and in dissembling his faulte also priuily, he should not be admonished of his error committed.
Now therefore let our conclusion bee, that the Courtier that proceeds in his matters, rather with opinion & obstinacy, then discretion and iudgement, shall neuer be in fauour with the Prince, nor yet beloued in the Court: For it is as necessary for the Courtier, that will seeke the fauour of the Prince, and loue of the Court, to impose his tongue to silence: as it is to dispose his body to all manner of seruice.
I know there are some such rash, vndiscreet, and arrogant fooles, that as much do boast and reioyce to haue spoken vndiscreetly to the King, and without respect of his princely Maiesty: as if they had done some maruellous thankefull seruice, with whome, truely no man ought to be greatly offended, for such fond bosts and vants as they make, and much lesse also with that that happens to them afterward: The Courtier also must bee well aduised, How the Courtier must demean himselfe, when his Prince sporteth before him. that albeit the king for his pleasure doe priuilie play with his handes, or iest with his tongue with the Courtier, and that he take great pleasure in it: yet that he in no case presume to doe the like (yea, thoogh hee were assured the Kings Maiesty would take it well) but let him modestly behaue himselfe, and shew by his words and countenance, that hee thinketh the Prince doth honour him, in pleasing his Maiesty to vse those pastimes and pleasant deuises with so vnworthy a person as he is: For the Prince may lawfully play, and sport himselfe with his Lordes and Gentlemen: but so may not they againe with him: For so doing, they might be counted very fond and light.
With a mans companions and coequals it is lawfull fot euery man to bee merry and playe with all: But with the Prince, let no man so hardy once presume further, more then to serue- honour, and obey him. So that the wise Courtier, must endeauour himselfe alwayes to come in fauour by his wisedome, and courtly behauiour, in mattsrs of weight and importance: and by great modesty and grauity, in thinges of sport and pastime: Therefore Plutarch in his Apothegmes sayth, That Alcibiades amongst [Page 611] the Greekes a worthy Captaine, and a man of his owne Nature, disposed to much mirth & pleasure, being asked once by some of his familiar friends, why he neuer laughed in Theaters, Banquets, and other cō mon playes where hee was, aunswered them thus: Where others eate, I faste? where others take paine and play, I rest mee, and am quiet: where others speake, I Where wise men are best known. am silent, where they laugh, I am courteous, and iest not: For wise men are neuer knowne but among fooles and light persons.
When the Courtier shall vnderstand, or heare tell of pleasant thinges to be laughed at, Let him in any case (if he can) flye from those great laughters and fooleries: that hee bee not perhaps moued too much with such to [...]es, to laugh too lowde, to clappe his hands, or to doe other gestures of the bodie, or admirations too vehement, accompanied either with a rude and barbarous manner of behauiour, then with a ciuill and modest noblenesse: For ouer great and excessiue laughter was neuer engendred of wisdome, neyther shal he euer be counted wise of other that vseth it.
There are also an other sort of Courtiers that speake so coldly, & laugh so drily, and with so ill a grace: that it were more pleasure to see them weep then to laugh. Also to nouell or to tell tales to delight others, and to make them laugh, you must be as briefe as you can, that you weary not and comber not the Auditory, pleasant, and not biting, nor odious. Else it chanceth oftentimes, that wanting any of these conditions, from iesting they come many times to good earnest. Elius Spartianus in the life of the Emperour Seuerus sayth, that the sayd Em-Emperour had in his Court a pleasant foole, and hee seeing the foole one day in his dumpes and cogitations, asked him what he ayled to be so sadde? The foole made answere: I am deuising with my selfe what I should doe to make thee merry. And I sw are to thee my Lord Seuerus, that for as much as I What disposition should be in a Princes Iester. weigh thy life so deare, possibly I study more the nights for the tales I shall tell thee in the morrow after, then doe the Senators touching that they must decree on the next day.
And I tell thee further, my Lord Seuerus that to bee pleasant and delighting to the Prince, hee must neyther be a very foole, nor altogether wise: But though hee bee a foole, yet hee must smatter somewhat of a wiseman: and if hee bee wise, hee must take a little of the foole for his pleasure.
And by these examples wee may gather, that the Courtier must needs haue a certaine modesty and comely grace, as well in speaking, as hee must haue a soft & sweet voyce in singing: There are also some in Court, that do not spare to go to Noble mens bords to repast, which being in deede, the vnseemely grace it selfe: yet in theyr wordes and talke at the boorde, they would seeme to haue a maruellous good grace, wherein they are oft deceyued. For if at times the Lordes and gentlemen laugh at them, it is not for any pleasure they take in their talke but for the ill grace, and vncomely gestures they vse in their talke.
In the banquets and feasts, Courtiers make sometimes in the Summer, there are very oft such men in theyr company, that if the wine they dranke tooke their condition, it should bee drunke eyther colder or hoter then it is.
CHAP. VI. How the Courtier should behaue himselfe to know, and to visite the Noble men and Gentlemen, that be great with the Prince, and continuing still in Court.
THe Courtier that commeth newly to the Court, to serue there, must immediately learne to know those that are in authority and fauour in the Court, and that are the Princes Officers: For if hee doe otherwise, neyther should he be acquainted with any Noble man or Gentleman, or any other of the Princes seruants, neither would they also giue him place, or let him in when he would. For wee bee not conuersant with him wee know not, and not being conuersant with him, we trust him not, and distrusting him, wee commit no secrets to him: He that will come to fauour in the Court must be acquainted with all the Courtiers in the Court. So that hee that will come in fauour in the Court, must make himselfe knowne, and be friend to all in generall.
And hee must take heede that hee beginne not so suddenly to bee a busie suiter in his owne priuate affayres: or for his friend, for so hee shall be soone reputed for a busie soliciter, rather then a wise Courtier. Therefore hee that will purchase fauour and credite in the Court, must not bee carefull to preferre mens causes, and to entermeddle in many matters: For the nature of Princes is, rather to commit their affayres into the hands and trust of graue and reposed men, then to busie and importunate soliciters: The Courtier also may not bee negligent to visite the Prelates, Gentlemen and the fauoured of the Court, nor to make any difference betweene the one and the other: and not onely to visite their parents and friends, but his enemies also: For the good Courtier ought to endeauour himselfe the best he can to accept al those for his frends at least, that he cannot haue for parents and kinsfolkes: For amongest good and vertuous Courtiers, there should neuer bee such bloudy hate, that they should therefore leaue one, to company with another, and to bee courteous one to another.
Those that be of base mind, doe shew their cankred hearts by forbearing to speake, but those that bee of Noble bloud and valiant courage, beginne first to fight, ere they leaue to speake together. For there is also an other sort of Courtiers, which beeing sometimes at the Table of Noble men or else where, when they heare of some quarrell or priuate displeasure, they shew themselues in offer like Lyons: but if afterwards their helpe be craued in any thing, and that they must needs stand by their friend, and draw on his his side, then they shew themselues as still as Lambes, and gentle inough to bee entreated.
Amongst other the new come-Courtier hath to be acquainted withall, he must learne to know those the Prince fauoureth, and loueth best, on whome hee must wayte and attende vpon, and doe all the seruice he can, without grudge and disdaine: For there is no King, but farre off on him, hath an other King, that still contrarieth his minde, and preuenteth him of his intent and pleasure: And euer A Prince hath alwais some fauourite: neere vnto him some, whom hee loueth and fauoureth, that may dispose of the Prince as hee listeth. Plutarch writing to Traian sayde these words.
[Page 613] I haue, O Traian, great pitty on thee: for the first day thou tookest vpon thee the Imperiall Crowne of the Romane Empire, of a free man thou thraldest thy selfe to bondage: For onely you other Princes haue authority to giue liberty to al others, but neuer to graunt it to your selues: saying moreouer, that vnder the colour of royall liberty, you shall remaine more subiect then your owne subiects that euer obey you: For if you command many in their houses, also one alone after commaundeth you in your owne Courte.
Now although many commanded the Prince, or that he would follow the counsell but of a few, or that hee loued one aboue an other, or that hee consented one alone should gouerne him, the good Courtier neede not once to open his mouth to reason of the matter: For so it might easily fall out, hee should beginne out of hand to feele in the Court, of what importance it were to enter into such discourse of the Prince, & afterwards to goe home to his own house, to end it with teares.
First,, to purchase the high indignation of the Prince: Secondly, to be The inconueniences that follow the needles reasoning of that the King allowes. disdayned of the Court: Thirdly, to be cast quite out of fauour: Fourthly, to bee exiled and banished the verge of the Court: and fiftly, and lastly, to end the rest of his woful daies in a vile and miserable place.
Now if it be hard to compasse to get into the Princes fauour: I thinke it no very ill counsell that at least hee seeke to bee in fauour with him, that is in the Princes fauour: For oftentimes there commeth as much displeasure to vs, beeing ill willed of those the Prince doth esteeme and fauour: as there doth by the princes owne indignation that raigneth ouet vs: For that wee talke of princes, commeth not all to his eares (and but seldome) vnlesse the matter bee slaunderous, and offensiue to his Maiesty. But to the contrary, wee no sooner speake of those that bee in fauour, and beloued of the prince, but they are not onely with speede aduertised what was spokē of them: but they further deuine, what wee thought of them.
Therfore my friend Courtyer, sith it lyeth not in thee to diminish or impaire his credite, that is in fauour with the Prince, and beloued in the Court: neyther to displace his matters, and suites he taketh in hand and that thou hast no authoritie to reforme and gouerne the Common-weale, nor to redresse the wrongs and iniuries receyued, I would wish thee to followe my counsell.
If thou spye the faultes and imperfections of the Court that thou rather suffer & abide them, in keeping them secret: then to seem to reproue them openly, when thou seest Noble-Princes contented to dissemble, and couer them priuily.
It is therefore the sounder counsell to followe and serue those that are in fauor and credite, then to pursue them in worde or deede.
And therefore the Courtyer must be very choyse with whom he is familiar, to whom hee speaketh, whom he Betweene words spokē & the intēt with which they were spoken is great difference. trusteth: who heareth him, and of whō he receiueth all his intelligence.
For there is great difference between the words that are spoken, and the intent and meaning, with which they were spoken. For, the bowells and entrailes of Courtyers are so damnable, and their harts so crooked, and diuerted from the right path-way of bountie and goodnesse, that the new and ignorant Courtyer shal think himselfe much profited by their aduises, and admonitions, when indeede they shall but deceiue him: and shall think he was well counselled, when he shall find himselfe the most deceiued in the world, & in greater anger then before.
[Page 614] There are som also so little contented with the Prince, and so ill recompenced for their seruice, that they are not onely not his friends, but they practise secretly to purchase him moe enemies.
And when the Courtier seeth, that bee that is in fauour and credit, doth It is best for the Courtier to bee [...] friendshippe with all, if can possible. in deed stick close with him vnfaynedlie, what need he care then, though all the rest be his enemies. And the good Courtier must consider, that he goeth not to the Court to reuenge iniuries, but onely to purchase honor and profit. To whom also I giue counsel, that hee be not enemy to him that is in fauour, nor friend to his enemie: and yet it shall bee best for him to bee friend to all, and enemy to none, if he can possible.
Whosoeuer desireth to bee well thought of in the Court, and to bee beloued of Courtiers, it is better for him to suffer iniuries done him, then he him selfe to bee a procurer of them to others. And for the iniuries, detractions and mutinings, that they shall rayse against the fauoured of the Court, no man ought to trust any other person then himselfe, sith that for the most part whom they do trust (when hee shall haue neede of the good report, and credite of him that is in fauour with the Prince, thinking to doe him a peece of great seruice) he he shall not care to vnfolde to him, euen the bottome of his friends secrets, which were cōmitted to him in great secresie.
Hee must also consider that hee cannot possibly in a short time growe in fauour with the Prince, nor come also to be accepted for a friend of him that is in fauour about the Prince: but the sooner to hasten his good fortune, hee must acquaint himselfe throughly with the Officers and seruants of the beloued, & do them a thousand pleasures dayly, as well in courteous words as in seruing their turns also with money or iewels, presenting them euer with some prety smal token from him, to haue him in mind, and to remember him to their masters: for the true order of this disorder, is in effect to be rather friend to their seruants, then familiar or beloued with their masters that are in so great fauour: hee must also bee informed, which of his Seruants (that is in estimation with the Prince) is in best credit with his Master, and him hee must seeke to make his friend aboue all other his fellows: for euen as the Prince hath a seruant whom hee loueth, that leades him altogether: There is no man, but giues more credit to one then another. euen so likewise hath the fauoured Courtier, a seruant about him that commaundeth him. There is no will so free & liberall, neyther any lord so high and absolute, nor Iudge so vpright a Iusticer, but in the end, hee giueth more trust and credite to one, then to another.
And hereof proceeds most commonly, that wee loue not those wee ought to loue, but those whom we fansie most. Now therefore following our entent, touching the visitation of the Courtiers, hee must lay watch and consider well to procure knowledge: First, if any such Noble men, or other his friends, which hee hath denotion to visite, bee occupied, or withdrawne to their bedde-Chambers, for some priuate businesse of theirs: for if it were so, they would rather thinke he came to trouble them, then to visite them.
And therefore hee that is wise, in visiting his friends, may not bee too importune vpon them, to prease into their bedde-chamber, neyther to be too tedious and vnpleasant in his wordes. There are some so solitarie, that would neuer be visited, & others, that desires to be visited euery day: Others there bee, that would the visitation should bee short: Others, [Page 615] that take pleasure to heare a long discours, that hee would his Tale should neuer be ended, So that the Courtyer must look into the natures of men, and so to frame his visitations, according to the conditions of their minde: and to remember his visitations to great graue men, bee not so ofte, and daily that they be troublesom to him, nor so seldome, that they may thinke them strangers, and that they had forgotten him.
That onely deserueth the name of a true visitation, where the person visited, Wherein true visitation of our betters or friends consisteth. may not bee troubled with importunacie: nor the visiter may diminish any part of his credit and estimation, and also that he preiudice not his owne commoditie in his affayres.
I speake it for some, that are so troublesome in their visitations, and so foolish and tedious in their words, not knowing howe to make an ende: that we may better call them troublesome, enuious, and impudent, then honest visiters, and faithfull true friends.
And therefore wee should leaue them so contented we visite, that they should rather bee angrie to loose our company, then that they should complaine of our importunitie: giuing them rather occasion to meete vs with a pleasaunt countenaunce (when wee enter into their house, then to make them hide themselues, or flye from vs, when they see vs) and say they are not within.
And mee thinks indeed where we haue not great and straight Friendship, or else some affayres of great importaunce, that toucheth vs much, it should bee sufficient to visite our friendes and acquaintance, once in a moneth: and where they would see more oftner, let vs tarry till they complaine and finde fault, and send to vs, to let vs vnderstand it, and not that we be so ready to come to offer and present our selues vnto them, vnlesse the necessitie of our cause doe vrge vs. There are some persons so vndiscreet in being visited, that when others doe come to see them, eyther they make The indiscretion of some that are visited. the gates to bee shut vpon them, or they cause their seruants to say, they are nor within, or else they get them out at the backe dore, or they faine that they are a little acrased, onely to auoide and flye from these troublesom and babling visiters: So that they had rather see a Sargeant enter into their house to arrest them for debt, then to be cumbred with these lothsome and prating visiters.
Also it is not fit to goe see theyr friends at vnlawfull howers, as about dinner or supper time: for those that are visited, will rather thinke they come to dine or supp with them, then of eurtesie and good will to see them: It hapneth sometimes, that many are braue and rich in apparrell, that keepe but a poore and meane ordinary at their Table, sparing from their mouth to lay it vpon their backs: and therefore they are very loath and offended that any of their friendes or familiars should take them at meales to iudge of them: for they thinke it lesse paine to fast from meat secretly, then that their scarsity should openly be discouered:
Also the Lawes of honesty and ciuility doe not permit any man to enter into the house, hall or chamber of an other, without knocking, or calling first at the dore: for that onely priuiledge to come in the house suddenly, and speake neuer a word, belongeth to the Husband or Master of the house.
Also it is not good to goe see his friend when he is at play, for if he be a loser, it cannot be but he will chafe, & be in choler, in his mind with his frend to come then to trouble him, & to let him of his play: and if happly he were [Page 616] a winner before his friend came to see him: and afterwards chance to bee a loser againe: hee will lay, the occasion of his losse vpon his friend that came of good will to see him, and say that he turned his good lucke away from him, and that hee came but to trouble him, taking it rather for an offence and iniury done him, then for any good loue or duety shewed him.
If our friend in like maner whom we go to visite, come out of his chamber to receiue vs, not bidding vs come into the Chamber, nor to sit downe, but standing to talke with vs, without any other curtesie or entertainement, wee may easily perceyue by this his manner of entertainement that hee giueth vs good and honest leaue to depart when we will.
The Wise and fine Courtier, will as easily finde and vnderstand him by his signes, as hee will doe somtimes by his words,
Also the Courtier must take great The discretion the Courtyer is to vse in his curtesie. heede, that in seeming to vse courtesie hee happen not to make some foolish countenance in pulling off his cappe, in making courtesie, comming into the Hall, or taking a stoole to sitte downe, lest hee bee therefore marked and mocked of the standers by, or noted for proud or presumptuous, for to stay or let at these Trifles, a man rather getteth the name of a glorious, light, and proud, then of a graue and sober man.
All things touching conscience, ciuility and honour, the good Cour, tier should alwayes haue in memorie, and before his eyes, when hee shall discourse with his Lord, or visite his friend. And for the first beginning of his discourse, and talke with him, (after they are set downe together) he must aske him how his body doth, and whether all his house be merry & in good health: for it is the thing that wee must first procure for our owne priuate commodity: and secondly, desire it for our friends.
Also in the Courtyers visitations hee may not be too curious, or inquisitiue of newes, neyther ouer-busie to tell newes: for after his Friend were once aduertized of the truth, it might be lightly, hee would thanke him for his comming, and commend him for his courtesie: and not-withstanding blame him for his newes, and count him a Lyar.
And if it happen we finde the party whom we visite, sad, comfortles, and in some necessitie: although hee were not our Friend, yet for that hee is a Christian, wee ought to comfort him with words, and to seeke also to helpe and relieue him with somewhat.
Lycurgus in his Lawes he made and ordained, that it should not be lawfull for any man to come to see a prisoner, but he should help to deliuer him: nor any poore man, but he should relieue him: nor any sicke or diseased person, but he shold helpe and comfort him, to his able power.
And truly me thinkes Lycurgus had great reason to make this Law: since One gyft in necessitie is better then a thousand words. we see that in experience, that a mans minde, for one onely thing that is giuen him, is better contented and satisfied, then with a thousand words that they can speake vnto him.
And if his house whom they goe to visite, and where hee dwelleth, bee his owne inheritance, and Fee-simple: or that hee hath it by Lease, or purchase, or that hee hath builded it out of the ground: or if he haue repaired, or new coated it: the Courtyer must pray him to let him see it, and when hee hath seene it, hee must greatly commend it to him: for all mortall men haue this common-fault and humour, that they must be praised for their doings, and not reproued for theyr faults.
Further, if they visite any sicke person, they must remember they speake [Page 617] but little vnto him, and that but softelie, and in pleasaunt matters, &c: for otherwise it should seeme (and they wil also beleeue) he came to see him, rather to aggrauate his sicknes more, then to comfort him.
Wee must euer make short visitations, not onely with the sicke and diseased, but the whole and found. And then the good Courtier must take his leaue of them, when hee is euen in his most pleasant discourse, to the end, they may intreateth him to tarry longer, and not to tarry till they seeme to licence him, by outwarde signes and ceremonies, and hee that shall goe visite another, let him take heed hee bee not so long and tedious in his talke, that the person whom hee visiteth doe rise before him: For it were too plaine a token hee were wearie of his company, and long tarrying, sith he rose before him to giue him ocasion to depart.
If his wife whom hee visiteth bee not a sister, or kinswomā of the Courtiers that visites him, or that they bee not of very familiar acquintance together, hee should not once seeme to aske for her, much lesse to desire to see her. For as Scipio sayth, A man should not trust any to see his Wife, Two things which a mā should not trust any with. nor to proue his sword.
It is also a custome vsed among Courtiers, that when they goe to any mans house to see him, before they light off their horse, they send to know whether he be within or no.
And when the Courtier taketh his leaue of him he hath visited, hee must not suffer the Gentleman for to bring him out of his Chamber to accompany him, much lesse to come downe the stayres with him: which if hee vse in this manner, the other shall bee bound to thanke him for his comming, and shall commend him for his ciuility.
And if it happen when wee goe to visite some Noble man, or other beloued of the Court at his lodging: and that at our comming hee is ready to com out of his house to ride abroad in the fieldes to take ayre, or to ride vnto the Courte, for to solicite some of his affayres: or to ride abroade in the towne for his pleasure, the diligent Courtier must willingly accompany him, and offer him all the seruice hee can: and so hee shall deserue double thankes of him, the one for his comming, and the other for his gentle offer and company.
To visite the Princes seruants, it is not the manner (for that they are alwaies occupied in the Princes seruice) neyther shall they haue such time of leysure as other haue. And because they haue no time commodious to see them at home at their owne houses, yet at the least the good Courtier must needes accompany them at times when they goe abroade. For there is more reason the esteemed Courtier should make more of him that accompanieth him, then of the other that is too importunate and troublesome to him.
CHAP. VII. Of the good countenance and modesty the Courtier should haue, in behauing himselfe at the Prince or Noble mans Table in the time of his meale.
THose that are abiding still in Princes A custome wherein the Courtier may lauish hia reputation. Courts, must in any case goe seldome or not at all abroade to others Tables, but alwayes to keepe their owne. For that Courtier that [Page 618] runneth from Table to Table, to eate of others cost, to haue his meate free, is not so sparing of his purse, as hee is too prodigall and lauish of his good reputation.
Therefore Eschines the Philosopher being demaunded one day what a man should do to be counted good he answered thus: To become a perfect Greeke, he must go to the church willingly, and of good deuotion, and to the warres of necessity, but to feasts and banquets, neyther of will, nor of necessity, vnlesse it be to doe them honour and pleasure that doe inuite thee.
Suetonius Tranquillus writeth that the Emperour Augustus prohibited in Rome, that no man should enuite each other to feast or banquet with an other: but if his friend would do him that honour to come to his feast, that then he should send him home to his house, of that meat hee should haue [...]ad at the feast, and banquet with them at their houses.
And when he was asked of certain of his friends, what he meant to make this Law, he gaue them this answere: The cause that moued mee, good friend, to forbidd playes and banquets in Rome was, because in play, no man kept himselfe from swearing, and terrible blaspheming the name of God: and in banquets euery man is giuen to de [...]ect and defame his neighbour.
Cicero recounteth of Cato the Censor, that he lying on his death bed: at the mercy of God, should say these words: Foure things I remember I haue done in my life, wherein I haue rather shewed my selfe a voluptuous, and negligent Barbarian, then a wise and good Romane Citizen, for the which I find my selfe sore grieued.
The first is this, For that I spent a whole day, and forgot to serue the Gods, and did not profite my common Wealth in any thing, which I should neuer haue done: For it is as great a dishonor for a Philosopher to be counted an idle and negligent person, as it is for a noble heart to bee counted a ranke coward.
The second is, for that safely I might once haue gone by land, and perillously When a wise man may put himselfe in perill. I hazarded my selfe vpon the water. A thing which well I should haue let alone: for neuer no wise man should euer haue put himself into perill, vnlesse it were only for the seruice of the Gods, for the increase of his honour, or for the defence of his Country.
The third is, that I opened once a great secret, and matter of importance to a woman, which I ought lesse to haue done then all the rest: For in graue matters, and things of counsel. there is no woman capable to giue counsell, and much lesse to take it, and least of all to keepe it secret.
The fourth was, that another time I was contented to be ouercome by a friend of mine, that earnestly inuited me to his house to dinner, and thereupon I went with him, which I should not haue done: for to say the truth, there was neuer famous nor worthie person that went to eate in an other mans house, but that hee diminished his liberty, hazarding also his grauity and reputation to the rumour and brute of others.
The which wordes being so wisely spoken by the prudent Cato, were well worthy to bee noted and carried away, and so much the more, that being now drawing to his last home, & euen in his last breathing hower, hee onely spake of these foure things, and no more: whereof, although hee were a Romane, yet he shewed to vs a repenting mind.
But woe is mee, that albeit I doe beare the name of a Christian, yea, & and that I am so indeed, yet in that last [Page 619] day when Nature summons mee: I feare me, and belieue assuredly, I shall haue cause to repent me, of more then foure things.
Now by these things heretofore recyted wee may easily coniecture, that albeit wee are contented to be entreated and requested in many things, yet in this onely to goe to others tables to feast, and in strange houses, we should not bee intreated, but rather compelled and against our wills.
And where the Courtyer is forced by importunacie to accept the bidding, How hee that is biddē to a feast may purchase thāk [...] of the bidder. without offering himselfe before, hee deserueth as great thankes of the bidder for his comming, as the other did in bidding him. For if it should not be so, it should seeme rather a dinner for staungers, that trauell by the way, then for Noblemen and Gentlemen, that come from the Court.
For that day the Courtyer graunteth to dyne with any man, the same day hee bindeth himselfe to be beholding to him that bids him: for although he come to him of good will, yet to acquite his courtesie done him, hee is bound of necessitie.
Also it is a small reputation, (and worthy great reproche) that a Courtyer make his boast he hath eaten at all the Tables and Officers bordes in the Court, and no man can say hee hath once beene at dinner or supper with him at his owne house.
And truly I remember I knew once a Courtyer that might dispende aboue two hundred Ducates by the yeare, who told mee, and assured me he neuer bought sticke of wood, to warme him within his chamber, nor Pot to seeth his meate in, neither spit to roast with all, nor that euer hee had any Cater for his prouision, saue only that he had made a register of many Noblemens bords: amongst whom he equally deuided his dinners and suppers. By meanes whereof hee saued all his charges, saue onely his mens Boordewages.
But what vilenesse or discurtesie could equall the miserie and shame of this carelesse Courtyer? Sure not that of the meanest and poorest Slaue of the world, that liueth only by his hire: No, it deserueth not to be compared To what ende wee should desire riches. vnto it. For, to what ende desire wee the goods of this world, but that by them we may be honored, relieue our Parents and Kinsmen, and thereby also win vs new Friends? what state or condition soeuer hee be of, that hath ynough and aboundance, wee are not bound to esteem the more of him for that, nor to do him the more honour, but onely for that he spendeth it well, and worshipfully, and for his honour, if hee be honourable.
And this we speake of Gentlemen, as of Cittizens. And he that in Court makes profession to Dine at othermens Tables, I dare vndertake if they dine betimes on the Holliday, hee will rather lose Seruice in the morning, then Dinner at noone. And if any Friend come to lye with these sort of Courtyers, and that hee be but newly come the Court, straight-wayes he will haue him with him to dinner: and bring him to salute the Gentleman, where he dines that day, saying: That hee was bolde, to bring his Kinsman and Friend with him, to salute him: And all this is not so much, to bring him acquainted with him, as it is to spare his meate at home for them both.
And yet they haue an other knacke of Court finer then this: They flatter the Pages and Seruants, because they shold euer giue them of the best wine at the Table: and with certaine familiar nods, and sweete wordes, they entertaine the Lords, Shewers, and Caruers, and make much of them: that they should set before them full dishes and of the best and daintiest meate.
There are also some of these Courtiers, [Page 620] that to be well wayted vpon at the fable, and to make them his friends, doe sometimes present the Steward with a veluet capp, the shewers with a payre of washed or perfumed gloues, the Pages with a swordgirdle: and the Butlers or Cupbordkeepers with some other prety reward or deuise.
And it chanceth often times in noble mens houses, that there are so many guests to dine and suppe with him dayly, that many times the boord will not holde them all by a great number; which when they once perceyue, to see how quickly, and with what speed the Courtiers take their places to set them downe, and to be sure of a roome: It is a world to see it.
But oh, I would to God, they were Many not [...] to serue God, as their own bellies. so happy and diligent to goe to the Church, and heare a Sermon, as they are busie to get them stooles, to sit at the Table.
And if perhaps a Courtier come late, and that the Table bee all ready full, and the lurch out, yet hee will not bee ashamed to eate his meate neuerthelesse: For albeit hee cannot bee placed at his ease, yet he is so bold and shamelesse, that rather then faile, hee will sit of halfe a buttocke, or behind one at the Table.
I remember I saw once at a Noblemans Table, three Courtiers sitt vpon one stoole, like the foure sonnes of Amon, and when I rebuked them for it, and tolde them it was a shame for them: They aunswered me merily againe, that they did it, not for that there wanted stooles, but to proue if neede were, if one stoole would holde them three.
Such may well bee called greedie gluttons, and shamelesse proulers, without respect or honesty, that when they are dead, would bee buried in the highest place of the Church: & when they are aliue, little force at whose table they sit, or how they sitt, little regarding their honor or estate.
Truely, for him, that is poore and needy, to seeke his meate and drinke, where he may come by it best: it is but meete: but for the gorgeous Courtier, bedeckt with gold, buttoned and be iewelled, ietting in his veluets, and silkes, to begge and seeke his dinner dayly at euery mans boord, being nobly and honourably entertayned of the prince, and able to beare his coū tenance: what reproch, defame, and dishonour is it to him?
Hee that vseth dayly to runne to How he is welcome that is a common runner to other mens Tables. other mens Tables, is oft times forced to sit lowest at the boord vpon a broken stoole, and to be serued with a rusty knife, to eate in foule dishes, & to drinke for a change hote water, and wine, more then halfe full of Water: and to eate hore bread, and that that of all others yet is worst of all, euery one of the seruants lookes ouer theyr shoulder on him, and are angry with him in their minds.
Truely, hee that with those conditions goeth abroad to seeke his dinner, were better in my opinion, to fast with bread & water at home, then to fil his belly abroad. But such mēs reward, that haunts mens houses in this manner, is this in the end, that the Noblemen to whose houses they come to, are offended with them, the Stewards of the house murmur at them, the pages and seruants mockes them, and laughes them to scorne: The Tasters and Cup-bearers chafe with them in their mindes: The Cupborde keepers wonder at them, the Clerkes of the Kitchin thinkes them importunate and shamelesse creatures. Wherfore it followeth (whosoeuer will obserue it) that so soone as the seruantes once see him come into the dining Chamber, some of them hides the stoole where hee would sit downe, others set before him the worst meat of [Page 621] the boord, and the filthiest dishes they haue: and therfore he that may haue at home at his house, his poore little pittance well drest, a faire white Table cloath, a bright knife, new and white bread, wood and candle in the winter and other necessaries: if he like better to goe from Table to Table, from kitchen to kitchen, and from one Butterie to another, I will suppose hee doth it for great spare and hardinesse, or for want of honesty and good maners.
Now hee that keepes an Ordinary house, and remaines alwayes at home, may dine if it bee in the summer season, in his shirr, if hee list, hee may sit when hee will, and where it pleaseth him, he drinkes his wine fresh, and hath the flyes driuen from his Table with the ventola, hee disdayneth the Court and Noble mens boordes, keeping his owne as f [...]anke and as sparing as hee list, and no man to gainesay him: yea and after meate hee is at libertie to sit still, and take his ease, or to walke abrode in the shade as he wil. And in Winter if perhaps he be wet, he straight shifts him, and changes all his cloathes, gets him a furred Nightgown on the backe of him, and a paire of warme slippers, to heate his colde seet withall: he eats his meat warme and smoking hote, and takes that hee likes best: he drinkes white wine, red wine, or claret-wine, as he thinks best, and needs neuer to care for them that behold him.
And therefore so great priuiledges as those bee of libertie, the Courtyer should neuer refuse to buye them for his money much lesse for the gaine of a meales meate he should leaue to enioy them, &c.
But if the Courtyer will needes determine to visite Noble-mens-bords, hee must bee very warie that incomming to a Noble-mans Table, hee doe not so much commend his Fare and Ordinarie, that he complaine of other mens Tables where he hath sed. For, How he is to demeane himself, that will visite noble means Table. it is a kinde of Treason to defame and slaunder those, whose houses they are wont to visite oft.
And when hee is set at the Table, the Courtier must behaue himselfe modestly, hee must eate temperately, and finely, hee must alay his wine with water, and speake but little: so that those that are present cannot but praise him for his Temperancie and sober dyet, but also for his wisedome and moderate speeche.
To feede mannerly is to be vnder stood, not to blow his nose in his napkin, nor to leane his elbows vppon the Table: not to eate to leaue nothing in the dish, not to finde faultes with the Cookes, saying: The meate is not enough, or not well dressed For, it were a great shame for the Courtyer to bee noted of the wayters, to be a bellygut, and to be counted a grosse-feeder.
There are some also that make themselues so familiar, and homely in the house, that they are not contented with that is serued them in the Dishe, but shamefully they plucke that vnto them that is left in other dishes: so that they are estemed for ieasters, no lesse sawcie then malepert in their order, then infatiable in their beastly eating
The good Courtyer must also take heede hee lay not his armes too farre on the Table, nor that hee make any any noyse with his teeth, nor tongue, nor smacke with his mouth when hee eateth, and that he drinke not with both his hands on the cuppe, nor cast his eyes too much vpon the best dishes, that he knaw nor teare his bread with his teeth, that hee licke not his fingers, nor haue done eating before others, nor to haue too greedy an appetite to the meate or sauce hee eates, and that in drinking hee gulpe not with his throate. For such manner [Page 622] of Feeding, rather be commeth an Ale-house, then a Noblemans-Table. And although the Courtyer can not go ouer all the Dishes that comes to the boord, yet at least let him proue a little of euery one, and then hee must praise the good cookry, and fine dressing of them all. For commonly the Noble-men and Gentlemen that inuite Many loue to haue their cheere and attendance commended. any to their boord, take it vncurteously and are ashamed, if the inuited praise not their meate and drinke they giue them, and not onely the noble men are ashamed of it, but also the other Officers that haue the charge to see it well dressed, and in good order.
Alwayes hee that eateth at an other mans table, to doe as he ought should praise the worthinesse of him that bad him, (yea though perhaps hee made a lie) and commend the great care and diligence of his Officers in furnishing his Table with so good meates, and in setting it forth in so good order.
I say not without a cause, that sometime a praise with a lye may well stand together, since wee see some Noblemens Tables so slenderly furnished, and that his Ordinarie should seeme rather a Preparatiue supper and dyet, for a sickeman, that meanes to take physicke in the next morning, then an Ordinary, or dinner for Easter-day.
And therefore (I say) that right the Lordes and Masters are pleased, when they heare their Officers and Seruants commended. For they choose moste comonly such a Steward as they know to be wise, and curteous of nature: a Treasurer true and faithfull: a Purueyer, expert and diligent: a Butler, hasty and Melancholie: the Groome of his chamber, painfull & trusty: his Secretarie, wise and secrete: his Chaplaine simple: and his Cooke, fine and curious.
For manie thinke it more glorie to haue an excellent cooke in their house, then to haue a valiant Captain, to keepe a strong place or holde. They are contented in Courte that Noblemens-chapleins be rather simple then otherwise, or well-learned. For if if he reade but little, he hath the sooner said seruice, and therfore also is more sit to dredge and doe seruice about the house.
Now therfore continuing our begunne purpose, the Courtier that eateth at other mens Tables, must see hee drinke little, and that his wine be well delayed with water.
For wine tempered with water bringeth Wine tempered with water bringth 2. commodities. two commodities: the one, it makes him sober that drinkes it, and shall not bee ouerseene, the other, he shall not distemper himselfe, that the wayters haue any occasion to laugh at him. If he should hap somtimes that he found the wine wel watered before, that it had stood a pawling long, or that it were somewhat sharpe or sower, or that the water weree too hote: the good Courtier should not therefore immediately complaine and find fault at the table, for so hee should shame the seruants, and make them angry with him, & also displease their master.
Truely, it is a griefe to suffer it; to see that he that hath nothing at home in his own house, eyther to eate or drink, will yet looke to bee well vsed at an other mans house: and is neuer satisfied. I speake it for certain, vndiscreet Courtiers, and wanting iudgement, that being at any mans boorde (without any shame) dare disprayse the Cookes, and speake ill of them, if perhaps the taste of their pottage and meate mislike them, and that it be not good, and acording to their appetite: And of the Butlers, if the wine be not colde and fresh: Of those that waight about: if euery thing they call for, be not done at a becke and quickly, of the Stewards of the house, if they bee not serued immediately: and of the boies and Pages, if they giue them not drinke suddenly: Of the Caruers, if [Page 623] they carue them not to their liking: and also with the Clerkes of the Kitchen, if they see them not serued with meate inough, that there bee inough left vpon the table. So that the Noble mens officers (for the more part) haue more trouble and displeasure, by the discontentation of those that come to their Masters Table, then they haue by the euil words their Masters speake to them. And for this respect therefore no man ought to be so bolde, as once to open his lippes to complaine No man ought to complaine of want at anothers table. of any want in an others mans house, as if they serue him with Claret wine, rather then with white: or with white then claret: For a right and perfect Courtier should not set his appetite in the tast or variety of wines, or meats in an others house.
I graunt that it is very fit and lawfull for young Courtiers to runne wel, to leape farre, to throw the barre of Iron, to daunce well, to ride a horse well, to manage, and giue him his carrere well, and to turne well, to handle his weapon well, and to breake a staffe well, and otherwise to helpe himselfe with all manner of weapons: but for one to defie another in drinkking, it should be a great sacriledge of the Courtier.
The Scithiens as ratifieth Trogus Pompeins, were so sober and modest in eating & drinking at their meales, that it was a foule fault among them for to breake winde or belch.
And therefore now a dayes, wee finde few Scithiens, but many drinkers, which depart from the Feast so sull fraught, as immediatly when they are come home, they vnlode their charged stomacke, and lay open all that haue eaten and drunken: wherefore hee that vseth to drinke cleane and pure water, is at more liberty thē those that drinke wine simply without compound: for excessiue drinking of wine, doth not alone trouble and distemper the braine and iudgement of the drinker: but further discouereth to you great and horrible vices. Therfore yet touching our matter, I say once againe that it is fond to dispute an argument, to proue which of the wines were best, pleasant and most sweetest, and which is oldest or newest, sharpe or harde, soft or sweet, clearest or darkest, or of best tast or quickest sauour. For to iudge of the taste of wines, and to know the goodnes & perfection of it, rather (to say truely) belongeth to a Tauerner or Vintner, then rightly to an honest Courtier. And it is fitter, and more decent also for him, to talke of arms and chiualry, then to deale in discourse of Bacchus feasts, what a mockery & foolish nicenesse is it of him, that not only drinks water alone, but also cannot drinke in that cuppe, where there hath beene wine filled before.
He shall also bee very circumspect that is bidden to a strāgers house, that hee drinke not so deepe at a draught, that hee leaue nothing in the cuppe, neyther that he drinke so long as hee hath breath, and the water stand in his eyes againe: For the graue and sober Courtier should neuer drinke till hee might no more, nor till there were none lest.
And when hee is at the Table, hee should not enter in argument, & dispute with any, neyther should hee bee obstinat in opinion, & much lesse vse vncomly talke, and he must also bridle nature much, that he cry not out in in laughing, as some doe: for like as it soundeth to his reproch, to be noted a glutton and drunkard, it is in like case far worse to be a foole and a Iester. Also it preuaileth litle that a courtier bee moderat & honest in eating, if hee be What talke should bee vsed at the Table. dishonest and insolent in his talke: for many times it hapneth at noble mens table, that they take more pleasure in some, then in other some, not to see them eate and drinke well, but to [Page 624] heare them tell lies, and to be pleasant at the boorde. Therefore as we haue sayde, the wise Courtier should praise and commend all that hee seeth serued at another mans table, and it is not lawfull for him to dislike or disprayse it.
And further because hee is fedd at an other mans charge, he must of necessity take all in worth that is giuen him, and set before him, and not to looke to haue that that he desireth. And when there is any question moued at the table, of the best and most delicate dishes, and of the sinest Cookes, & of the new kinds of broths and sawces, and from whence the fattest Capons come, it shall not be fitte for the wise Courtier to say in that all that he knoweth and vnderstandeth: For how much honour it is for him to bee able to talke in martiall feates or chiualy: so much more dishonor and reproch it is to him, to be skilfull in dressing of meates, and all to fill the belly.
I remember that being one day at a Bishops boord, I heard a Knight make great boast and vaunt, that hee coulde make seuen manner of fricasies, foure kindes of Pyes, twelue sorts of sawces, and ten of fruit tartes, and twelue diuers wayes to dresse egges: but for to heare him tel these tidings, was not to bee accounted of so much, as the gestures and countenances he made in telling them: For he did liuely shew with his hands the present making of them, the eating of them, & the right tasting of them with his tongue.
And because it happneth many times that in some Noble mans house, there is not like fare and entertainement that an other hath, the ciuill Courtier To whose table it is best for a feast hanter to resort. should not be so dishonest as to make report hee leaueth the Noble mans Table, to goe to an others that is better serued. For the worthy courtier should not haunt that Table where he fareth best, but where he findeth himselfe best welcome, and esteemed. Ah how many noble men and knights sonnes are there, that spare not to goe to any mans boord for his meate and drinke, yea, though it fall out they bee their fathers enemies: and they doe it not in respect to reconcile them, and their fathers together, but rather for a good meales meat, or more aptly to say, to fill their bellies with dainties.
CHAP. VIII. what company the Courtier should keepe, and how bee should apparrell himselfe,
THe wise Courtier both in court, and out of court, and in all places where hee commeth, must take great regard hee accompany Ill company loseth a mans credit. with none but with wise and vertuous men. For if hee doe not, hee cannot winne nor acquire such honour by his well doing, as he shall lose his credit, by keeping ill company.
And therefore hee shall inforce himselfe alwayes to be in the presence and company of vertuous and noble men, and shall conferre with the most graue, wise, and honest Gentlemen of the Court: For vsing this way, hee shall binde them to him, by reason of his dayly accesse to them, and he shall purchase himselfe a good opinion of them, besides the good example hee shal leaue to others to tread his steps, and sollow his course. For what is more true, then when a young Gentleman commeth newly to the court, you shall see immediately a company of other young fooles, a company of [Page 623] amarous squires, light and idle persons a company of troublesome Iesters, and couetous praters, besides other young frye in the Court, that when they know a new come Courtier, namely, (beeing, of great liuing) They will seeke to attend vpon him, and traine him to the lure of their affects and manner, bidding him to like of their qualities and conditions.
Wherefore cunningly to shake of the route of these needy, greedy retainers, he must altogether feede them with faire words, & shew them good countenance, and yet notwithstanding seeke by all policy he can to flye their fellowship and company.
Noble mens sonnes, Knights sons, Wherefore Noblemen, Knights & Gentlemēs sonnes are sent to the Court. and Gentlemens sonnes, may not thinke their friends sendeth them to the Court, to learne new vices, and wicked practises, but to winne them new friends, and obtaine the acquaintance of noble men, whose credit & estimation, with the Prince, may honour and countenance them, and by their vertues and meanes, may after a time bee brought into the Princes fauour, and dayly to rise in credit and reputation amongst others.
Therefore such fathers as will send their children to the Court, vnlesse they doe first admonish them well how they ought to behaue themselus, or that they recommend them to the charge and ouersight of some deare and especiall friend of theirs, that will reproue them of their faults, when they doe amisse. I say they were better to lay yrons on their feet, and send them to Bedlam, or such other like house where mad men bee kept. For if they bee bound there in yrons, it is but to bring them to their wittes againe, and to make them wise: but to send them to the Court loose, and at liberty without guide, it is the next way to make them fooles, and worse then madde men, assuring you, no greater daunger nor iniury can bee done to a young man, then to be sent to the court, & not committed to the charge of some one that shold take care of him, and looke straightly to him. For otherwise it were impossible hee should bee there many dayes, but hee must needes runne into excesse and foule disorder, by the meanes whereof he should vtterly cast himselfe away, and heape vpon theyr parents heads continuall curses, and griefes, during their liues.
And therefore their Fathers, supposing after they haue once placed their sonnes in the Court, that they should no more carke nor care of them, nor reckon to instruct them, to bee wise and vertuous, finde when they come home to them againe, that they are laden withvices, ill complexioned, worse apparrelled, their clothes all tattered and torne, hauing vainely and fondly spent, and played away their money, and worst of all forsaken their Masters, leauing them displeased with their seruice.
And of these I would admonish With whom the young Courtier should accompanie himselfe. the young Courtier, because he must of necessity accompany with other yong men, that in no case he acquaint himselfe with vitious and ill disposed persons, but with the honest, wise, and courteous: amongst whom hee shall put vpon him a certaine graue, and stayed modesty, fitting himselfe onely to their companies, being also apt and disposed to all honest and vertuous exercises, decent for a right Gentleman, and vertuous Courtier, shuning with his best policy, the light foolish, and vaine toyes of others.
And yet notwithstanding this, my intent and meaning is, not for to seeme to perswade or teach him, to become an hypocrite, but onely to bee courteous, honest, and well [Page 626] beloued of other young Gentlemen: winning this reputation with all, to be esteemed the most vertuous and honestest among them, gallant and liuely in his disports and pastimes, of few words, & small conuersation amongst bosters and back-byters, or other wicked and naughtie persons: not to bee sad among those that are merrie, nor dumme, among those that talke wisely, and of graue matters: nor to belieue hee should be accounted a trim Courtyer, to take his book in his hands to pray,, when others will take the ball to play, or goe about some other honest recreations or pastimes, for exercise of the bodie.
For, in so doing, they would rather take him for a Foole, and an Hypocrite, then for a vertuous and honest young man. Being good reason the childe should vse the pleasures and pastimes of a childe: young men disportes and actes of youth: and olde men also, graue and wise recreations fit for them. For in the end, doe the best we can, wee cannot flye the motions of the Flesh, wherein wee are What vices the young Courtyer should eschew. borne into this world.
These young Gentle-men -Courtyers must take heede that they become not troublesome, importunate, nor quarrellers: that they be no filchers, lyars, vacabonds, and slaunderers, nor any way giuen to vice.
As for other things, I would not seemeto take from them their pastime and pleasures, but that they may vse them at their own discretion. And in all other things lawfull and irreprouable, obseruing times and houres conuenient, and therewitall to accompanie themselues with their fellowes and companions.
Also the young Courtyer that commeth newly to the Court, must of necessitie be very well apparelled, according to his degree and calling, and his seruants that follow him well appointed. For in Courte men regarde not onely the House and familie hee commeth of, but marke also his Apparell, and seruants that follow him.
And I mislike one thing very much, that about the Court they doe rather honour and reuerence a man, braue and sumptuous in apparell being vitious, then they doe a man that is graue wise, and vertuous-And yet neuerthelesse, the Courtyer may assure himselfe of this, that few will esteeme of him, eyther for that hee is vertouus or nobly borne, if hee be not also sumptuously apparelled and well accompanied: for them onely will euery man account and esteeme of him.
Wherefore I durst take vpon mee to sweare, if it were possible, to take oath of our bodyes, that they would sweare they needed them not, much lesse desire so large compassed gowns, that euery puffe of winde might swell thē as the sayles of a Ship: neyther so long that trayling on the ground, they gather dust; and cast it into our eyes.
Howbeit I thinke now-adayes these fine men weare them large and wide, and women long, with traynes vpon the ground: because in the Court and else-where, no man makes reckning of him that spendeth but orderly, and onely vpon necessaries to goe cleanly withall: but him they set by, that is prodigall, excessiue, and superfluous. And who that in his doings and apparell is moderate, and proceedeth wisely, they holde him in Court for a miserable and couetous mans and contrarily, hee that is prodigall and lauish in A meane ought to be vsed in apparell. expence, him they count a noble and worthy person. Albeit the Courtyer be come of a Noble house, and that he be yong of yeares, rich, and wealthie, yet would I like better hee should vse rather a certain mean and measure in his apparell (wearing that that is comely and Gentlemanlike) then others of most coste and worship. For, like as they [Page 625] would count him a foole for wearing that he could not pay for: so they likewise would thinke him simple, if hee ware not that that become him, and that he might easily come by.
His apparrell should be agreeable with his yeares, that is to say, on the holy dayes some more richer and brauer then on the worke dayes: and in the Winter of the hotest furres: in the summer light garments of sattin and damaske: and to ride with, some others of lesser price and more durable: For as the wisdome of man is knowne by his speaking: so is his discretion decerned by his apparrell.
Let not the poore Courtier study to weare or deuise any new or strange fashioned garment, for if he be of that humour, he shall quickly vndoe himselfe, and giue others occasion also to follow his light and vaine inuention.
There are now a dayes found out so many strange wayes to dresse meate, and so many fashions and patterns of apparrell, that now they haue vniuersities of Taylers and Cookes.
What more greater vanity and lightnes can there be then this? that they will not suffer the mothers gowns to be made fit for their daughters, saying that they are olde, and out of fashion, and that they vse now a new kinde of apparrell and attire farre from the old manner. And notwithstanding those gownes bee it a manner new, good, whole, cleane, rich, and well made, & without weme, yet their daughters must needes haue new gownes at their Whence new fashions in apparrell proceede. marriage. So that we may aptly say, that a new folly, seekes alwayes a new gowne, namely, when they are light persons, without wit and discretion. And I pray you, is it not a goodly sight in the Court, to see a foolish Courtier weare a demy cappe, scant to couer the crowne of his heade, to haue his beard merquizotted, a payre of perfumed gloues on his hands, his shooes cut after the best fashion, a little curted cappe, his Hose fayre pulled out, his doublet sleeues brauely cut and pinct, his rapier & his dagger guilded by his side: and then on the other side, the pestilence of penny he hath in his purse, to blesse him with: and besides he is deepe in the Marchants booke for all those things hee hath taken vp of credit of him.
Their nagges foote clothes would not be so litle and narrow, that should seeme a Fryers hood, neyther so great & large as the foot cloths of Bishops moyles.
Also the Courtier must see that his footcloth be good and whole, cleane, and without spot, not tattered and seame rent.
This we speake, because there are some miserable Courtiers that haue Who may bee rightly termed a Courtier. their footclothes threed bare, broken and seeme rent, foule and durty, narrow, and all digged full of holes with spurres. And therefore no man deserueth to be called a right Courtier, vnlesse hee he fine and neate in his apparrell hee weareth, and also courteous and ciuill in his words and entertainement.
And yet touching the rest of the furniture of their horse or gelding, their harnesse and trappes must bee kept blacke and cleane, and they must looke that the reines of the bridle bee not brokē nor vnsowed, which I speak not without cause: for there are a number of Courtiers that at Primero will not sticke to set vp a iest of a 100. or 200. crowns, and yet will think much to giue their poore horsekeepers 12. pence, to buy them a payre of reynes. And truly the Courtier (in my iudgement) that is content to tye his horse with vntagged points, to see his fire smoke when hee should warme them, to ride with broken reines, and to cut his meate at the table with a rusty knife, I would thinke him base borne, [Page 628] and rudely brought vp. When the Courtier will ride his horse, let him looke euer before hee take his backe, that he haue all his furniture fitte for him, his maine and tayle finely combed, A good order for it [...] great noties. his stirroppes bright glistering, his stirrops leather strong, and his saddle well stuffed, and aboue all, let him sit vpright in his seate, and carry his body euen, swaruing of neyther side, holding his legges still, and keepe his stirrop.
For this name to bee called Chiuallier (signifieth in our tongue a rider of a horse) came first because hee could ride and manage his horse well. And when he would stirre his legges, to spurre his horse, let him beware hee stoupe not forwardes with his body, and when he doth spurre his horse let him not spurre him low, but hie in the flankes, and whether he will runne or stand still with his horse, let him alwayes haue his eye vpon the reines, that in no case the raines goe out of his hand.
And in giuing his horse a carere, let him not writhe with his body, nor bee too busie in beating or spurring his horse oft: For in his carere, to know when to spurre him, when to giue him head, or to pull him backe againe, and to stoppe him. I haue seene many take it vpon them, but few indeed that euer were skilfull, & coulde do it well.
Now the Courtier being mounted on horse or moyle, without his rapier by his side, seemeth rather a Physitian that goeth to visite his sicke patients, then a Gentleman of the Court, that for his pleasure and disport rideth abroad throgh the streets: and if he were by chance intreated by some noble man to accōpany him, or to ride behind him throgh the streets: euery honest Courtier ought not only to doe it, but vnasked to be ready to offer himselfe to waite vpon him, and [...]o goe with him willingly.
And let the fine Courtier beware that in giuing his hand to a Gentlewoman hee be not gloued, and if she bee a horsebacke, that hee talke with her bare headed, to doe her the more honour, and if shee ride behinde him, & they chance to discourse together, let him neuer looke backe vpon her to behold her, for that is a rude manner, and a token of ill education.
And one common courtesie there is among Courtiers, that when they are in talke with Ladies and Gentlewomen, and entertaining of them, they suffer them to do with them what they will, to raigne ouer them, and to bee ouercommed in argument of them, and they holde it good manners to doe them seruice, when they haue any occasion offered to serue them. And when he shal accompany any Gentlewoman to goe a visitation with her, or to talke abroad for their pleasure through the streetes, he must ride fayre and softly, and if she should happen to keepe him so long in talke till she should alight, the good Courtier must beare it courteously, & make a good countenance, as thogh it grieued him nothing, sith wee know very There is almost no end of a womans talke. well, that when women beginne once to talke, it is impossible for them tomake an end, vnlesse they bee ouerta [...] ken with night, or preuented by [...]om [...] other accident.
Hee that will bee a Courter, must weare his shooes blacke and cleane, his hose straight to his legges, and his garments without plight or wrincle, his sword fayre varnished, his shirts finely wrought, and his cappe standing with a good grace. For the chiefest thing of Court is, that noble men bee rich in apparrell, and the right Courtiers to bee fine and cleanly. It is not decent for a man to weare his slippers so long that the corke be seene, nor his garments till they be torne, nor surre till it be bare [Page 629] before, nor shyrtes till they be worne out, nor his cap till the turffe be greasie, nor his coate till it be threed-bare, nor his girdle till it be halfe-broken.
For, the Courtyer may not onely weare his Garments to content himselfe, but also to like others, that shall behold it.
And after that hee is once determined to goe to the Courte, hee must suppose to goe thither well Apparelled, else sure they wil not account him to be a right Courtyer. For in this case, the excuse of pouertie may not be alleadged: for they will thinke them rather miserable, then poore courtyers.
The good Courtyer may not spare in Where the Courtier should spare and spend. Court, to spend afterwards at home: but he must pinch at home, to be liberall afterwards in the Court.
And yet once againe I returne to recite, that for a Courtyer to come into the Princes fauour, hee may not any way bee sparing or miserable, but rather honestly liberall, and bountifull. For seldom-times concurre these two things together: to be miserable, and yet with his miserie, to attaine to the Princes fauour.
I remember I saw once a friende of mine in the Courte weare a Ierkin, faced at the coller with Martens, and they were all bare and greasy, and there was a certaine Portingale in the Courte (a pleasaunt companyon) that came to this Gentleman, and asked him properly, What faire Furres they were he ware about his necke? and this gentleman answered him, Martins: Martins Syr, saith the Portingale: Me thinks they ore rather like surres of Ash-wendesday, then of Shroue-tuesday: And finely this Portingale compared Mardi (that is Tuesday) to his martin furres: & so likewise his martin furres to Mardi.
And sure hee had great reason not to praise them, but greatly to rebuke him for them. For, it had been more for his honour and worship, to haue had the coller of his Ierken lined with faire white lamme, then with such old, stale, dyrtie, and sweatie martins.
The bruches that our Courtyer must weare in his cappe, must be very rich, and excellently well wrought, and his Deuse or Motto, that hee will haue about it so curious, that though euery man may reade it, yet few shall vnderstand what it meanes. For such Deuises are euer lightly grounded of vaine and fonde toyes: and therefore they should bee so much more secrete and obscure. For sure the faulte is great enough in a man to deuise it, though hee doe not bewray it.
Also his Seruaunts that waytes vpon him, must needes goe handsomely apparelled, and fine and neat in their How the Courtiers seruant should bee apparrelled. cloathing. For, it is a small honour for the Master to be well apparelled, if he let his seruants goe beggarly.
There are many Courtyers that haue their men following them with thred bare clokes, torn cotes, foule shirts, broken hose, and rent shoes. So that these poore seruing-men, if for one moneth they weare that their master giueth them for three other moneths they weare their own proper flesh.
It is no wise mans part, but a meere folly to keepe a greater traine then he is able: For that Courtier that hath alwayes many seruants wayting on him, and they going tattered and torn hauing no good thing to put on their backes (or at least that they haue is but meane and simple) shall sooner winne the name of a broker, that preferreth other men to seruice, then of a Master that keepeth seruants himselfe:
The good Courtier must giue vnto all his seruants that serue him, eyther apparrell or wages: for that seruant that serueth onely in house for bare meate and drinke, shall neuer serue truely while he doth serue.
[Page 630] And therefore let the Courtyer looke well to it, that hee entertaine no man into his seruice, but that first he agree with him for standing wages: vnles it bee that hee be some nephew, or Kinsman, or some of his deere friends: or else in the ende, if he be a Noble-man, (vnlesse he doe so) hee shall finde that at the yeares ende hee shall spend him more, then if hee gaue him ordinary wages, and besides they will not bee contented with him, although it be to his greater charge.
Also let him consider well, if it happen that (when hee hath neede of seruaunts to wayte vpon him) some brother or Neighbours childe be offered vnto him, whether he shal receiue him or no. For after he hath receiued him in his house, eyther hee shall be compelled to beare with his faultes, and disorders he shall doe, or else desirous to rebuke and reforme him, or to send him home againe: he shall but winne anger and displeasure of his Father, or his proper kinsfolks. Surely such Courtyers as take those kinde of men into their seruice, haue a great deale of pain and trouble with them. And truly it is too great a crueltie, that the Courtyer, shold be driuen to beare the dishonestie of his man that serues him, whē his owne Father could not away with his conditions.
Some Fathers are so much blinded, and besotted with fatherly affection, and difficulte besides to please, that they are not contented that the courtyer hath receyued their sonne into his seruice, and that he entreat him as if hee were his owne kinsman: but further, they would haue the Courtyer his Maister, to beare with all his sawcie deshonestīes, and leawdnes: and if they cannot frame the young man to theyr minde, as they would haue him; yet at least they would haue his maister to pittie him, for that hee is butyoung, and hath no knowledge, and for a while to wincke at all his faultes, in good hope of a better amendment.
The Courtier may not onely see, that his men be well in apparrell, but he must prouide also that they haue meate enough to put in their bellies: For the seruants that are starued for meat, are wont to do small seruice, and besides that to complaine much. Let him beware also he doe not take into his seruice any lewde persons, busie bodies, and vnquiet men, cutpurses, ruffians, quarrellers or whoremongers: if hee finde that hee hath such in his house, let him turne him out of seruice straight; for by keeping such mates in his house, his house shall neuer be wel ordered, there shall euer be quarrelling and swearing amongst them, and besides that, the neighbors and common people shall bee offended.
Let the good Courtier foresee that he haue no cardes nor dice in his house to occupie the seruants: For those thriftles seruants that are giuen to play, beginne first to play, and afterwardes they learne to steale Let the Courtier be well aduised also when he chideth with his seruants, that hee bee not too lowde, that his voyce may bee heard abroad, as all the Hostes and Inne-keepers are: For in beeing too lowde, hee should bee more dishonoured then blamed, for the ill words he giueth his man. Let him take heed also that hee doe not call his seruants drunkards, theeues, villaines, Iewes, nor other such like names of reproch.
For those and other like vncurteous wordes are of small correction, add yet they bring displeasure, and disdaine inough. And if the Courtier cannot giue bountifully and pleasure his officers and seruants that are aboute him, yet at least (howsoeuer the World go) let him not be behind [Page 631] with them in paying them their whole wages due to them: for so it might lightly happen, that the seruāts would begin to make complaints of him, and that vnhappily in the end he might come to die with misery in his enemies hands.
There is no enemy in the world so cruell, nor so much to be feared, as the seruant that is not contented with his Master, for as he is the theefe of the house, so knoweth hee very well what peece of his Masters harnesse is wanting for his body to set on him, when hee would in that place haue an arrow for his token.
Therefore so soone as it commeth to the Courtiers eares, that any of his seruants complaine of him, eyther let him giue him al that he would haue or put him out of his house immediately: For if he doe it not, let him be assured that that seruant will neuer leaue till hee haue put in discord with his friends, and defame with others. And aboue all things we haue spoken of yet, the Courtier must chiefely looke what his man is he trusted with his honour? for in this case many are wont not onely to be deceiued, but also many times scorned.
And there are many that will put their goods into the hands and trust of a man, but their honour & things of greatest weight and importance, they will sooner commit to the trust of a young foolish, and simple Page, then of a wise and stayed man. And therefore how much more his busines is of weight and importance, so much lesse should it be reueled to the secresie of a boy.
And if hee doe otherwise, I can assure him, hee shall sooner be spoken of of euery man, then hee shall haue his businesse dispatched.
The Courtier must also haue his chamber wel hanged, and finely kept, and cleane, and his house and family all in good order, and euery man quiet: For the cleannesse of the house, and ciuility of the seruants, are a great token and witnesse of the nobility of the master.
In the Courtiers Chamber where hee lyeth, the bed must first of all bee made, and the cloth before the dore let downe, the chamber swept, the hangings and other stuffe that is there in good order, with some perfumes, or other sweet odors, so that it should laugh vpon a man that comes into it: for there are some in the Court so filthy, and so ill furnished of hangings, and other stuffe, that if any man come to see their chambers, they seeme rather sheepe coates, then Courtiers Chambers.
CHAP. IX. Of the wise manner the Courtier should haue to serue and honour the Ladies and Gentlewomen: and also to satisfie and please the Vshers, and Porters of the Kings house.
LEt the good Courtier A good caueat for Courtiers. bee alwayes circumspect, that hee seeke not any fauour at the Iustices hands but that that is lawfull: For if eyther hee bee denyed, he shall returne with shame, or being graunted, hee shall leaue his conscience to gage, In sutes and controuersies betweene men of Religion in the spirituall Court, Let him in no case deale: For at the first shew they seeme very easie to the Iudge, but when they come to the vnripping of the matter, to iudge of them then they are matters of great charge [Page 632] and conscience.
There were manie Towers in Ierusalem, to any of which the diuell might haue brought IESVS CHRIST, to haue perswaded and tempted him, to haue thrown himselfe down: howbeit he would not bring him but to the pinacle of the Church, to let vs vnderstand therby, that he tooke more pleasure in one sinne done in the Church, or of holy persons, then of tenne committed in the world, & of worldlings.
And notwithstanding the Courtyer doth not see that the reason is of his side that is recommended to him, hee neede neuer passe for that, to entreate for him, or to charge his owne proper conscience: as for example.
If any man intreat him to speake to the Iudge, or to write him a letter. For manie times wee see the iudges make The custome of many iudges. much more account of one only word or letter from him that is in fauor and estimation with the Prince, then they will of the Religion and and Iustice of another man. And alwayes write in this forme: Right Worshipfull, or Honourable: the Letters of fauour that shall be requested of you, &c. That by those wordes the Iudge may know, that for that they were requested & besought, and not that it should seem you write for affection: For doing otherwise, that that you shall write to him to satisfie others in, he will thinke that you doe it, because eyther for reason, or dutie, hee should performe your Letters.
The like consideration and modestie the good Prince should haue in that hee doeth commaund: the like and selfe-same shold the esteemed and fauoured of the Court obserue in his requests he maketh. For many times the requests of the beloued in Courte are with more celeritie performed, then the commissions of the Prince are accomplished.
Let the Courtyer alwayes haue in his minde also, that if hee meete with an Noble-man or Knight by the way, hee doe in any condition return with him and keepe him companie: although the Noble-man or Knight striue with him, not to haue him got backe with him: yet let him not suffer himselfe to be ouercome; to let all men knowe, that notwithstanding the Noble-man or Knight passe him in degree or Apparrell, yet he shall not exceede him in curtesie and ciuilitie.
Now this courtly company is only to be vnderstood to be offered the Knight when he rideth into the Citie of pleasure, and not when he goeth alone: and sheweth by his for-head an vnpleasaunt countenance, troubled in his minde. Yet the Courtyer neuertheles must offer himselfe to accompanie him, which if hee doe accept, hee may not then withstand or importune him to doe it: For where he should thinke to bee accounted courteous, they would repute him a troublesom man.
When the Courtyer shall accompany any Noble-man of the Court, let Contention for place in accompanying a noble man. him not then seeme to contende with other Courtyers for place and honour in his presence, who should be before, or behinde another.
For this strife comming to the Noble-mans eare whome they accompanie, it might easily happen that that companie, that came to wayte vpon him, and to doe him honour and seruice, should then seeme to dishonour and offend him.
Little knoweth he what honor meaneth, when in these trifles hee seeketh it. For the wise and courteous Courtyer, hath not only to seeke honour with them, with whom he rideth cheeke by cheeke: but also with those that are beloued of the Prince. Now when the Noble-man is accompanyed, and that hee is come hard by the Court, your Courtyers bee readie to alight off your horse, quickely before him: [Page 633] and when hee shall likewise take his horse againe, be as ready to take your horse backe before him: For doing thus, you shall bee neare about him when hee lighteth off his horse, and afterwards helpe him when hee mounteth on his horse againe.
If perhaps at the comming in of a Chamber, the Lordes seruants want consideration, or that they remember not to holde open the cloth ouer the dore, the good and diligent Courtier should sodenly put himselfe before him, to lift and hold it vp: For many times it is as great an honour for a Courtier to be accounted one of good maner and bringing vp in the Court, as out of the Court, it is to be reputed a great and famous Captaine in wars.
And since the Courtier is determined to accompany some noble man to the Court, hee is also bound by the Lawes of the Court to wayte vpon him home againe, which if hee doe, the Noble man shall bee more beholding to him for the attendance hee hath giuen vpon him, then for his cō pany to ride with him.
If any come to speake with the courtier that were equall with him in degree, A point of [...]ood man [...]s to bee obserued in [...]aring or [...]eaking to [...]ur superiours. or meaner of calling or condition then himselfe, it is one of the first and chiefest points of ciuility & good manner, not to suffer him to open his lips to speake to him, before hee haue his cappe on his head, for one to talke commonly with the other with his cappe in his hand, is of great authority and reuerence, as from the duty of the subiect to the Prince, or that of the seruant to the Master.
The good Courtier must euer speake againe to him that speaketh to him, do him reuerence that doeth him reuerence, put off his cappe to him, that putteth off his, and this hee must doe without any respect that hee is his friend or foe: for in the effects of good maners, no man ought so much to bee an Enemie, that the enmitie should breake the boundes of curtesie and humanity. It is rather fit for common persons, then for Courtlike gentlemen, in so meane things to shewe their enmitie.
For to say truely, the good Courtyer should not shewe the enmitie of the heart, by putting on, or pulling off his Cap, but by taking sworde in hand to reuenge his quarrell.
And if the Courtyer were in the Church, Court, or in the Chappell of the Prince, and set, and an other gentleman happely commeth in the same place where he is, he must doe him the curtesie to giue him the place and seat and to pray him to sit downe: yea, and if there were no other place fit for the gentleman to sit in, and that of curtesie also hee would not offer him that iniurie to accept it: yet at the least let the Courtyer doe what hee may, to make him take a peece of his stoole, that parting with him his seate, the other may also come to part with him his heart.
If those that were set hard by the Courtyer begun to talke in secrete together, Hee is ill taught that listneth to other men speaking in secret. he should rise from thence, or goe a little aside from them. For, in the Court they wil say he is ill taught, and brought vp, and wanteth ciuilitie and good manners that will seeme to harken to any bodyes tales or secrets.
The Courtyers must haue frienship also with the Porters, to open him the Court-gates that are kept fast chained in, that they be contented to suffer their Moyle or Foot-cloth-nagge to enter into the vtter-court.
And the like must be practised with the gentlemen-Vshers of the Chamber, and Captaine of the Garde, to whom hee must doe a thousand pleasures, that they may respect his person, and let him come in when he wil. and the next way to winne his friendship, and to continue them friendes, [Page 634] and to be welcome of them, is to feast them otherwhiles: sometimes with a banket, but especially not to faile them with a new-yeares gift, on New-yeares day, what Trifle or present soeuer it bee.
That Courtyer that is not acquaynted with the Vshers, and doth them no pleasures, may bee well assured that those aboue in the Hall, will make him tarry in the vtter-Court: and those that stand at the gate of the Cheyne, they will make him light in the myre. With the Vshers of the priuie-Chamber, hee must needes deale honourably withall, as to come and see them sometimes, and to do them much honour, in giuing them some faire iewell or presenting them with a Gowne, or Coate-cloth of silke or veluet. And thus he shall be assured, they will not only let him into the priuie-chamber: but they will also procure him, to speake with the Prince, at his best leysure.
To make the yeomen of the Guarde also that make gentlemen giue place, and stand a loose off-from the Prince, it cannot bee but very profitable for the Courtyer to haue them his friends. For many times they may helpe vs to a fit place to talke with the King, it is such a trouble and charge to speake with the Prince, that if wee haue not greaat Friendship with these we haue spoken of, and that we doe them some pleasures before we come to the Court they will shut the dores against vs, and wee shall come home ashamed of our selues.
For, a Courtyer to bee acquaynted with the Ladies and gentlemen of the Court, it is rather of pleasure then of necessitie: albeit it be true, that the young-Courtyer, that serueth not some Ladie or Dame in the Court, shall be rather blamed of his shamefastnesse, and Cowardly heart, then approued for his modestie and grauitie.
In deede for a young-Gentleman that is rich, noble, and free-harted: it is an honest and comely entertainment, to become some Ladyes seruaunt of the Court: But for him that is poore, liuing in disgrace, and out of fauour, let him vtterly flye the loue of Courtly Dames, and sticke to the poor-friends ship of deuout Nunnes. For the property of Courtly Mistresses, is to empty What the propertie of courtly Mistresses is. their seruants-purses, and the manner of religious-Nunnes, to beg alwayes of him that visites her.
The Courtyer that offereth himselfe to serue any Ladie or gentlewoman in court, doth bind himselfe to a streight religion: For sometimes hee must kneele by her of one knee, sometimes he must stand vppon his Feete before her, and alwayes he must haue his cap in his hand, and he may not speake to her, vnlesse shee commaund him first: and if shee aske any thing of him, hee is bound to giue it her straight, if hee can: and though shee frowne vppon him, yet hee may not bee angrie with her - so that the Courtyer must needes imploy his whole person, and goods, in seruing of her, that hee loues. For, the Courtyer that is marryed, surely it is not fit for him to loue any other woman then his wife: neyther is it honest for the woman to be serued with any married courtyer, For these manner of loues are to no other ende, but for him to be merry with her, and for her to get somewhat of him.
Let the Courtyer be very wise, and beware that he doe not loue and serue such a gentlewoman whom he cannot obtaine to his wife: For otherwise it should be a great corsiue to his heart, and a more shame, to see another before his eyes to enioy her, and eate of that fruite, which hee had now to his great coste and charges, made now a fruitfull Orch-yard.
And if it happen that his Mistresse whom he serueth be nobly borne, very [Page 635] fayre of complexion, pleasant of condition, of good grace and behauiour in her conuersation, very wise & fine in her doings: hee may bee well assured, hee shall neuer forget this griefe, and sorrow, and so much the more, if hee did loue her with all his heart and vnfainedly.
There is great difference between that we lose, and that wee haue: For if the heart lament for the losse of that wee haue, it bewayleth bitterly to lose that wee loue. Also the Courtier must be aduised that hee tell not to any that his wife hath told him, or any thing that hath passed secretly between thē, For women are of such a quality, that for any thing they doe, they would neuer heare of it againe willingly, and those secrets, that another commits to them of trust, they can neuer keepe them secret.
There is a Law common between women and their Louers: for if they goe abroad, their louers must attende vpon their persons, and if they buy any thing in the streete as they goe, they are bound to pay for it. And if they be too late abroad, they must prouide them of torches to bring them home with; and when the Court remoueth frō place to place, theirs is the charge, to defray their expences by the way: and if any doe them iniury, they are bound to reuenge their quarrell: If they fall sicke, they must doe them a thousand pleasures and seruices: if any challenge bee made in Court, of tilt, turney, or barriers, they must bee the first and best mounted and armed aboue others (if they may possible) with all, not forgetting their Ladyes colours and deuise, offering themselus nobly to performe the challenge, giuing them to vnderstand, that for their sakes, they neyther feare to aduenture their liues, nor spare for any charge to doe them all honour and seruice. with out doubt, wee may speake it truely, that hee putteth himselfe to great perill and danger (whatsoeuer hee bee) that serueth women.
But when the wise Courtier is now become a seruaunt to any Lade, hee must beware in any case hee entertaine or serue any other then his mistresse: for if hee did it otherwise, hee should raise a mortall hate and discorde betweene these women: by reason whereof many slaunders & broiles might ensue.
It is a naturall thing to all women, The nature of women in hating or louing to man. that to hate any man, a hundred will come to agree in one opinion: but to loue him, you shall not finde two of one minde. The good Courtier must couet the best he can to be alwayes at the making ready of the King, and at meat, and that for two causes: The one for that hee may be ready to doe him seruice, and the other, for that at such a time they shall haue an apt time to treate with the Prince in any thing hee will, if he haue any occasion of busines with him. And when the King is eyther at his meate, or that hee bee putting on his apparrell, let the good Courtier be circumspect he come not too neere the Table where he sitteth, nor that hee touch the Kings apparell he weareth on: for no man ought once to presume to bee so hardy to meddle with his meate, or his apparrell, vnlesse he be Shewer or Chamberlaine, And if in this time of repast, or making him ready, there were present any Iesters or fooles, that sayd or did any thing to make them laugh.
The good Courtier must take heede that hee laugh not too loud, as in such cases many are wont to doe: For in such a case the Prince would be better pleased at the modesty of the Courtier, then at the knauery of the foole.
The honest Courtier must not haue a foole his friend, nor his enemy, for to make him his friend, hee is too dishonest, and to be his enemy, hee is [Page 636] too vile and cowardly. I wish the Courtier not to bee angry with him: what soeuer he doth: for many times it happeneth that the friendshippe of a wise man doth not so much benefite The friendship of a wise man doth not so much good, as a fooles displeasur doth hurt. or pleasure, as the enmity and displeasure of one of these fooles doth hurt. And if hee will giue them any thing (as he must needes) let him beware he giue him not occasion to condemne his conscience, and that hee stoppe their mouthes: For the Courtier that is Christian, shall giue as much more to the poore to pray to God for him, as hee shall giue to others to speake well of him to the king.
When the King sneeses, and that the Courtier bee present, hee must straight put off his cappe, and bowe himselfe in a manner to the ground, but for all that hee must take heed, he say not, Christ helpe you, or God blesse you, or such other like: For to doe any maner of courtesie or honor: is pertinent onely to Courtiers: But to say, Christ helpe, or God blesse you: is the Country manner.
And if the King by chance should haue any hayre or feather to flye vppon his clothes, or any other filthy thing about him: none but the chamberlaine onely should take it away, and none other Courtier should once presume to take any thing from his backe, or to touch his garment, neyther any other person, vnlesse it were in case to defend him.
When the king is set at the table, the Courtier may not come into the Kitchen, nor much lesse leane vpon the surueying boorde: For though hee did it perhaps but to see the order of the suruey, and seruice of the Prince: yet it may bee suspected of some, hee meant worser matter, and and thereby they should iudge ill of him. If the Prince haue a felicity in hawking, the Courtier must endeauour himselfe to keepe a cast or two of good Falcons, and if in hunting, then he must haue good Greyhounds. And when hee is eyther a hawking or hunting with the King, hee must seeke to serue him so diligently that day, that he may both find him game to sport with, and procure for himselfe also fauour at the Princes hand.
Many times Princes are so earnest of their game, and so desirous to kill that they hunt, that they are wonte boldly to chase the beastes they hunt, and pursue them so, that oftentimes they lose the sight of the rest, In such a case the good Courtier must euer haue his eyes vpon him, and rather seeke to follow the King, then to take pleasure in hunting of other beasts: for in that case it shal be a better hunting for him to finde out the King, and to be with him, then he should take pleasure in being alone with the Hart.
It may happen lightly, that the king galloping his horse vpon the rockie stones, he might stūble at such a stone, as both the King and his horse should come to the ground: and at that time it could not be but very profitable to the Courtier to bee present: For it might so happen, that by means of the Princes fall (he being ready to helpe him) he might thenceforth beginne to grow in fauour and credite with the Prince.
The most part of those that delight to goe a hunting, are wont commonly to eate their meate greedily, & drinke out of measure, and besides to shout and make a wonderful noise, as they were out of their wits: which thinges the graue, and wise Courtier should not do: for they are rather fit for vagabonds, & idle persons, that set not by their honesty: then they are for the honest Courtier, that only desireth and endeauoreth by modesty & wise behauiour to become great, and in fauour.
CHAP. X. Of the great pains and troubles the Courtier hath that is toilde in sutes of Law, and how hee must suffer, and behaue himselfe with the Iudges.
THere are in the Court also diuers kindes of men, that bee not Courtiers, Diuers and sundry sorts of Courtiers, & Princes seruants, but only are Courtiers of necessity, by reason of suites they haue with the counsell. And these manner of Courtiers haue as much need of counsell, as of helpe: for hee that hath his goods in hazard, hath also his life in ieopardy.
To speake of the diuers and subtill wayes of suffering, it is no matter worthy to bee written with ynke, but onely with liuely bloud: For indeed if euery one of these suters, were forced to abide for his faith, and beleeue those paines, troubles, and sorrowes, that he doth to recouer his goods, as much cruelty as tortures should Vaglioditi, and Grauata haue, as euer had Rome in times past. In my opinion, I thinke it a hell to continue a long suter. And surely we may beleeue, yea and sweare to, that the Martyrs executed in olde time in the Primitiue Church (which were many in number) did not suffer so much, neyther felt such griefe to loose their life, as doth now a daies an honest man, to see himselfe depriued of all his faculties. It is a great trouble and charge to recouer any thing, but in the end of these two effects, a wise man suffereth and feeleth more the displeasure he receyueth, then he doth the goods hee spendeth. And in my iudgement to striue and contend is nothing else, but to bring matter to the hart to sigh and lament: to the Eyes to weepe, to the Feet to go, to the Tongue to complaine, The heauie happe of those that are in Sutes of Law. to the handes to spend, to intreat his Friendes to fauour his cause: and to commaund his seruaunts to be carefull and diligent, and his bodie to labour continually.
He that vnderstandeth not the conditions of contention: I will let him know, they are these which follow, Of a rich man, to become poore: of a mery man, to be made sad and Melancholie: of a free man, a bond-man: of a liberall man, a couetous man: of a quiet man, an vnquyet person: and of a htaefull, a desperate person.
How is it otherwise possible, but that the haplesse Poore Suter must become desperate? seeing the Iudge looketh vppon him with a frowning counteuaunce: his goods to bee demaunded of him wrongfully: and that now it is so long a time hee hath not bin at home, and knoweth not as yet whether Sentence shall be giuen, with him, or against him.
And besides all this, that the Pooreman in his lingring Sute hath spent so much, that hee hath not left him sixe pence in his purse. If any of these troubles be ynough to bring a man to his end, much more shal they be to make the poore-man desperate, and weary of his life. So diuers are the effects, and successes seene in matters of Sutes, that many times there is no wit able to dyrect them, nor goods to bring them to end. Nay, wee may boldly and truely say, that the Lawes are so many, & diffuse of themselues, and mens iudgements so simple to vnderstand them: that at this day there is no Suite in the world so cleer, but there is found another law to put that in doubt, & make it voyd. And therfore the good and ill [Page 638] of the Suter, consisteth not so much in the reason he hath, as in the Law which the Iudge chuseth to giue iudgmēt of.
It is well that the Suter belieue and thinke that he hath right, but the chiefest thing of importaunce is, that the Iudge also, desire that hee haue his right. For, that Iudge that fauoureth my cause, and desireth to doe mee Iustice, he will labour and study to seeke out some Law that shal serue my turn, to restore mee againe to my right.
To contend, is so profound a science, that neither Socrates to the Athenians, nor Solon to the Greeks, nor Numa Pom pylius to the Romaines, nor Prometheus to the Egiptians, nor Lycurgus to the Lacedemonians, nor Plato to his Disciples, nor Apolonius, to the Poets of Nemesis, nor Hiarcus to the Indians, could euer teach it them: and much lesse could they tell how to finde anie way to write it in the bookes of their Common-wealth.
The cause why these famous men did not finde it, was because this Science could not be learned by studying of diuers bookes, nor by trauelling through diuers countreyes, but onely by framing great Sutes and Processes, and by infinite charge, and expences of money.
Happie, yea truly, and most treble happie were those ages, in which they neither knew, nor yet could tell, what strife or contention meant. For, indeede from that time hetherto, the world hath fallen to decay, and chiefly since men haue grown to quarrel, and each one contēded with his neighbor.
Plato was wont to say, that in that Commonweale where there were found many Physitians, it was also an euident token that there were many vicious people: and likewise we may say, that in that Citie where there are manie Suters, it is to bee thought it followes also, that there are many yll disposed-people.
That onely may be called a blessed and fortunate Common Weale, where men liue quietly, and haue not to doe with Iustices nor Iudges: for it is a true rule, when Physitians are much frequented, and Iudges much occupied, that amongst that people, there is little health, and lesse quiet. But to returne to the troubles of our Suiters: I say, that the Disciples of the famous Philosopher Socrates, were not bound to be silent in Athens aboue two yeares: but the vnfortunate Suiters What misery the poore Clyents & Suters are subiect vnto were bound to holde their peace ten yeares, if their suites did continue so long. For albeit the Iudge doe them open iniury, yet they may not seeme to complaine, but rather say, hee thinketh hee hath done him the best iustice in the world.
And if for his mishap or plague of his offences, hee would not so approue and speake them, let him bee assured, the Iudge will perceiue it by his countenance, and afterwardes let him know it by his iudgement.
Some Suters say, they are great Sinners, and I say they are Saintes: For of the seuen deadly sinnes that are committed, onely of three they are but to bee accused: for in the other foure (although they would) they doe not giue him time nor leaue to offend How can the Suiter euer offend in pride, since hee must poore man goe from house to house with his cappe in his hand, and all humilitie to solicit his cause?
How can hee euer offend in Auarice, sith hee hath not many times a penny in his purse to buy him his dinner: nor to pay for the infinite draughts and Copies proceeding out of the Chancerie?
How can hee offend in sloth and idlenes, sith hee consumeth the long nights onely in sighes an complaints, and the whole day in trotting and trudging vp and downe.
[Page 639] How can he offend in Gluttony, since he would be content to haue onely to suffice nature, and not to desire pies nor breakefasts, nor to lay the Table euery day? That sinne they most easily and commonly offend in, is ire, and indeed I neuer saw suter patient, and although hee be angry, wee may not maruell at it a whit: For if euer once in the end of halfe a year he happen to haue any thing that pleaseth him, I dare bee bound euery weeke after hee shall not want infinite troubles to torment and vexe him.
These men also offend much in enuy: for indeed there is no man that pleades but is enuious: and this proceedeth many times, to see an other man, by fauour dispatched of his sute, that hath not continued onely two moneths in Court a suter: and of his that hath continued aboue two yeares since it beganne, not a word spoken. They offend also in the sinne of backebiting, and murmuring against theyr neighbours: For they neuer cease complayning of the partiality of the Iudges, of the slothfulnesse and timorousnes of his Counsellor, that pleads his cause at the barre: of the little consideration of the Attorney, of the payments of the Notary, and of the small curtesies (or rather rudenes) of the officers of the Iudge: So that it may be well sayde, that to striue in Law, and to murmur, are neere kinsfolks together.
The Egyptians were in times past plagued onely with ten plagues, but these miserable and wofull suters are dayly plagued with a thousand torments. And the difference betwixt their plague & these is, that the Egiptians What torments are incident to those that haue sutes in law. came from the diuine prouidēce and these of our poore suters, from the inueution of mans malice.
And it is not without cause, we say, that it is mans inuention, and not diuine: For to frame inditements, to giue delayes to the party, to alledge actions, to deny the demaund, to accept the proofe, to examine witnesses to take out proces, to note the declaration, to prolong the cause, alledging well, or prouing il, to refuse the iudge for suspect, to make intercession, to take out the copy of the plea, and to call vpon it againe with a 1500. doubles.
Surely, al these are things that neither God commaundeth in the olde Testament, neyther Iesus Christ our Sauiour doth alow in his holy gospel. The writings of Egypt, although they were to the great losse and detriment of the Seigniory of the Egyptians, yet were they neuerthelesse very profitable for the liberty of the Egyptians: But the miserable Plaintifes, are yet in an other great extremity; for notwithstanding the plagues and miseries the poore wretches suffer dayly, yet doe they leaue their soules buried in the Courts of Chauncery, and cannot notwithstanding haue their goods at Liberty.
And if the plague of the Egyptians was by riuers of bloud, frogs, horse flyes, death of cattel, tempests, leprosie, Locusts, mysts, flyes, and by the death of the first borne children. The plague of the Plaintifes is to serue the Presidents to beare with the Auditors to intreat the Notaries, to make much of their Clerks, to please the Counsellers, to follow their heeles, that must open their causes to pray the vsshers, to borrow money, to goe from house to house, to solicite their Atturneyes, all these things are easily to tell, but very hard to suffer: for after they are once proued and tryed by experience, they are enough to make a wise man contented, rather to lose a peece of his right, then to seeke to recouer it by any such extremity: For hee may bee well assured, that hee shall neuer want faire countenance, sugred words [Page 640] and large promises: but for good doings it is a maruellous wonder, if euer they meet together.
And therefore before all other things it is necessary hee pray to God for his owne health and preseruation: and next to him, for the preseruation and long continuance of the Iudge, if hee will obtaine his sute. Therefore I aduise him that hath not the Iudge for his friend, to beware, as from the Diuel, hee doth not commence any sute before him: for to dispatch him the better, eyther hee will finde the meanes to make his case very darke, or at the least hee will prolong his sute as long as he please.
It skilleth not much whether the Iudges bee olde or yong men, for both with the one and the other, the poore plaintife hath enough to doe. If they be olde men, a man shall trauel long ere he wil heare his cause. If they bee young men, he shal wait long also ere hee can informe them of the very points of his cause. An other great discommodity yet follow these olde Iudges, that being euer sickly, and of weak nature, they neuer haue strength nor time in manner to examine their cases.
And as those that haue lost now a great peece of their memory, onely trusting in forepassed expences, they presume to dispatch their suites as lightly, without further looking into A Iudge not to trust too much to his memory. them, or throughly examining them, as if they had already aduisedly studyed them. And peraduenture their case is of such importance, that if they had looked vpon it very well, they could scantly haue told what to haue sayd in it. And I would not that when any case should be determined, and iudgement given vpon my matter, that the Iudge should benefite himselfe onely with that hee had seene, or read before.
For although experience bee a great helpe to the Iudge to giue the better iudgment vpon the matter, yet notwithstanding he is to study a new to vnderstand the merits of the cause. It is also a great trouble, and daungerous for a man to practise with new Iudges, and to put their matters into their hands, who onely were called to the place of a Iudge, being thought learned and fitte for it, and so brought to rule as a Magistrate: For many times these young Iudges, and new Physitians although they want not possible knowledge yet they may lacke a great deale of practise & experience: which is cause that one sort maketh many lose their liues before they doe come to rise in fame: & the other vndoe many a man, in making him spēd all that euer he hath.
There is yet besides, an other apparant daunger, to haue to doe with these new and yong experienced iudges: for when they come to sit newly in iudgement, with their other brethren the Iudges, hauing the lawe in their mouth to serue all turnes, they doe but onely desire and study to winne fame and reputation amongst men, and thereby to bee the better reputed of his brethren.
And for this cause only when they are assembled together in place of Iustice to giue iudgement of the pleas layde before them, they doe not only inlarge themselues, in alleadging many and diuers opinions of great learned men, and booke cases. So that the Hearers of them may rather thinke they haue studyed to shew their eloquence and learning, then for to open the decision and iudgement of the cases, they haue before them.
And for finall resolution I say, that touching Pleas and Sutes, I am of opinion, that they should neyther truste the experience of the olde Iudge, nor the learning and knowledge of the [Page 641] young. But rather I reckon that man wise, that seeketh by little and little to grow to an agreement with his aduersarie, and that tarieth not many yeares to haue a lingring, yea (and possibly) an vncertaine ende.
Also I would (in some sort) exhort the poore Plaintise, not to bee ouer-curious, to vnderstand the qualities of the iudge, as a man would say, If he be olde, or young, if he be learned or priuiledged, if he be well studyed, or but little, if hee be a man of few or manie words: if hee be afflicted or passionate, tractable or selfe willed? For, possiblie beeing too inquisitiue to demaund of any of these things, it might happen (though hee did it vnawares, yet hee should finde them afterwards all heaped togethers in the person of the Iudge, to his hinderance and dammage in decyding his cause.
The wise Suter should not onely not seek to be inquisitiue of the iudge or his conditions: but also if any man would seeme to tell him of him, hee should giue no eare to him at all. For if it come to the Iudges eares hee enquireth after his manner of liuing, and condition, hee will not onely be angry with him in his minde, but will be also vnwilling to giue iudgement in his fauour.
The poore Siuter shall also meete with Terrible Iudges, seuere, intractable, chollericke, incommunicable, and inexorable, and yet for all this he may not looke vpon his nature, nor condition: but onely to regarde his good conscience.
For, what neede hee care if the Iudge be of seuere and sharpe condition, as long as he may be assured that hee is of good conscience.
It is as needefull for the vpright and good Iudge, to haue a good and pure Conscience: as it is to haue a skilfull head, and iudgement in the Lawes. For, if he haue the one without the other hee may offend in malice: and if hee haue that without the other, hee may offend also in ignorance.
And if the suter come to speake with the Iudge, and hee by chaunce finde him a sleepe, hee must tarry till hee awake, and if then hee will not, or he cannot giue eare vnto him, hee must bee contented.
And if he caused his man to say he were not within (notwithstanding the suter saw him) hee must dissemble it: yea, if the seruants giue him an ill answere, he must take it in good worth: For the wary and politike suter must not bee offended at any thing that is done or sayde to him, till he see the definitiue sentence giuen with him, or against him.
It is a maruellous trouble also to the suter to chuse his Counsellour: for many times hee shall chuse one that shall want both law and conscience. And some others shall chuse one that though on the one side hee lacke not Law, yet on the other hee shall bee without both soule and conscience: And this is apparantly seen, that somtime for the gaine of twenty Nobles, hee shall as willingly deny the truth, and goe against his owne consciedce, as at another time he will seeke for to maintaine Iustice.
It is true there are many other Counsellours also that are both wise and learned, and yet notwithstanding, they know the Law, they can by no meanes frame it to his Clients case, wanting deuice and conuayance to ioyne them together.
And so it happeneth many times that to compare it to his Clyants case, hee conuaieth him so vnfitlie as of a plaine case it was before, It is now made altogether a folde of infinite doubts. I graunt that it is a great furtherance vnto the Clyants, to haue a good and wise Counsellor▪ [Page 642] but it is a great deale more for their profite, if they can giue a sound and profound iudgement of his case.
For, it is not ynough for the Counseller to bee able to expound the Law, but it is behouefull for him to applie it to his purpose, and to fit it to Time, and Place: according to the necessitie of his cause.
I haue knowne Counsellours my selfe, that in their Chayres and Readings in their Halls, haue seemed Eagles: The weake knowledge, of some Counsellers they haue flowne so high in their doctrine and interpretations; but afterwards at the barre where they plead and in the face of their Court, where they should best shewe themselues, there they haue prooued themselues very capons.
And the onely cause of this is, because they haue gotten by force of long trauell and continuall studie, a knowledge to moote, and read ordinarily their Book-cases in their chaires by common-practise, and putting of them each to other.
But when they are taken out of common-trade, and high beaten way, and brought to a little path-way straighted, to a Counsellers-room, at the barre, to pleade his Clyents strange and vnknowne case (much contrarie to theyr Booke-cases before recited) then stript of their common-knowledge, and easie seate in chayre, they stand now naked on their feete, before the iudgement-seate, like sense-lesse creatures, voyde of reason and experience.
But now to supplye these imperfections of our rawe Counsellers, and to further also our Clyents cause the better: wee will that the Clyent be liberall, and bountifull to his Counseller, (thereby the better to whette his wit, and to make him also take paines, to studie his ease throughly) beeing true, That the Counseller giueth Lawe, as hee hath rewarde. And that the Counseller also be carefull of his clyents cause, and to goe through with that hee taketh vpon him, and truely to deserue that he taketh of euery man, For else they will say (and who can blame the poor soules) That they are better takers, then good dispatchers: A foule blot, to so great a vertue
But well, wee will compare them to their Brothers, the Physitians; who The Lawyers & Physitians to be compared together. deale with their sicke Patients, as the Lawyers do with their poore clyants.
For, if you giue him not a piece of golde or two in his hand, at each time of his visitation, to restore the languishing bodie: hee careth as little for the preseruation of his health, whether hee liue or dye, as the Lawyer doth for his clients case, whether, whether it goe with him or against him.
Moreouer, my penne ceaseth not to write of the great troubles, displeasures, iourneyes, expences and trauels, that the poore suters haue with theyr Counsellours dayly, as with their Atturneyes, Soliciters, Clerks, Officers, Registers, and Sealers, for want of matters to write on: but onely for that they are so tedious matters, and so foule examples, that they deserue rather to bee remedied then written.
Therefore leauing this Law Discourse, and returning againe to the priuate affaires of the Courtier, abiding still in Court, I say, That the Courtier must learne to know the Noble men and chiefe Officers of the Prince, As the Lord Chancellour, the Lord Treasurer, the Lord Marshall, the Lord Steward, the Lord Chamberlaine, the Lord Priue Seale, The Treasurer, the Controller, The master of the Horse, The vice Chamberlaine the Secretary, the captaine of the Guard, and the Coferer. And hee need not force to weigh their stocke and family, whether they were rich or poore, humble or proude, stout or fearefull, nor regard their qualities [Page 643] and complexions, much lesse theyr persons, saue onely their authoritie and office they haue, And to say truly, it cannot bee chosen, but wee must come before these Iudges and Officers, sometimes to beseech and pray them, now for our owne priuate causes, then for the misrule and offence of our seruants, and also for the importunancy of our friendes in their matters, to labour them for iustice and fauour. And for this cause mee thinks it is a wise part of the courtier to get into fauour with the counsell, and other officers of Iustice, and to obtaine their good wils with continuall attendance of them, in doing them seruice at a neede, and also to entertaine them with some small presents, to continue their fauour.
First, before wee beginne to trouble them, w [...]e must bee acquainted with them, visite them, and present them with somewhat: For indeed it is a colde and vnfit thing to craue fauour at a Iudges hands, whom we neuer knew, nor did any seruice to.
The wise Courtier must beware also not to importune the Noble men and his friendes so much, that for euery trifling thing hee would haue them to goe to the Iudges, to solicite and entreate for him, which I speake, because I know there are some so vndiscreet, that dayly doe importune the Iudges so much, and for such trifles, that afterwards with shame they are repulsed and denied in maters of great weight and importance.
And there are some also that solicite their matter with grauity, and others with importunity, to whome I will bee so bold to say, and to tell them of it also, that importunacie sheweth the simplicitie of the Suiter, and grauity, the honesty of the worthy Knights, and Gentlemen Courtier.
It is but well done, and meete, for the Courtier that is a Suiter, to be diligent to solicite his cause, and to follow it throughlie, but yet without troubling or importuning too oft the Iudges: For if once the Iudges know him for an importunate and cumbersome suiter, they will not onely not speake with him when hee comes, but also they will not let him come in at the gate, when they see him cōming to them.
And if hee happen to goe home to the Iudges house, and that hee tell his tale to him standing, let him in no wise care to sit downe, and that his wordes hee speake to him bee fewe, and his memorial he giues him briefe: For obseruing this order, hee shall at that time bee easily, yea willingly and courteously heard of him, and shall How the poore [...] should demeane himselfe, when he commeth before the Iudge. make him thinke that hereafter also he wil vse the like order with him.
When hee seeth that the Iudge is troubled, and that his head is occupied, let him in no case at that present offer to trouble him, or to speake to him in his matter.
For admit hee were contented to heare you quietly (though halfe vnwilling) and to suffer you to tell your tale: yet it is impossible hee should wholy vnderstand your case, his heade being otherwise occupied.
And it is needfull also to shewe you, that though the Iudge seeme to bee a little Melancholy, or Collericke: yet the Suiter neede not let for that to speake to him, to open his case: yea, and to seeke to holde in with him still: For many times wee see the Melancholy, and illdisposed Natures, appeased and ouercome with the courteous and gentle conuersation.
I remember touching this matter, I went once to the court to solicit the Iudge, to pray him to dispatch my friends matter, and that he might haue iustice. And tooke my friend with me.
[Page 644] And the Iudge answered vs both, that with all his heart hee would dispatch him, and sware, and sware againe to him, that hee should haue iustice, and that with right good wil, hee would keepe his right all he could.
Nay sir, sayd my friend to him, whom the case touched: I thanke you sir, very much that you will dispatch mee quickly: but where you say, that you haue a great desire to keepe my right and iustice, I vtterly appeale from that sentence: For I come not sir, and if it please you, to followe your heeles, and to waite vpon you to solicite my cause, to the end you should keepe my right, and detaine it from mee: but that you should giue it to me.
For I promise you this sir, if you once giue it me, I meane neuer to trouble your worshipp hereafter with the keeping of it againe, but will discharge you quite.
And now after all these things we haue spoken, I conclude, that whosoeuer curseth his enemy, and seeketh reuenge of an iniury done him, Let him not desire to see him poore and miserable, neyther hated nor ill willed of any other, dead, nor banished: but let him onely beseech God for to plague him with some ill sute: For a man cannot deuise to take a greater reuenge of his enemy, then to see him entangied in a vile sute to follow the Cour, or to attend in Chauncerie.
CHAP. XI. The Author changeth his matter, and speaketh to the beloued of the Court, admonishing them to bee pacient in their troubles, and that they bee not partiall in the affayres of the Common weale.
THe Courtier shall doe well and wisely (and chiefely if hee be noble, and beloued, to passe ouer the iniuries done him, and to beare them patiently, and neuer for to giue any words to any that shall offend him; For the officers of Princes can by no other meanes so well assure their offices and authority they haue, as by doing good continually to some and to suffer others, no way making any countenance How euery wise and prudent Courtier should behaue himselfe. of displeasure for the iniuries done them by others.
And if it happen (as many times i doth) that a follower and hanger on of the Court, hauing spent all that he hath, and driuen now to seeke a new banke, chaunce to speake dishonest words, and frame great quarrels against the Kings Officers; In this case the Courtier and wise Officer should neuer answer him with anger and displeasure, and much lesse speake vnto him in choller: For a man of honour and respect, will be more grieued with a dishonest word that is spokē against him, then hee will bee for the deniall of that he asketh,
Those that are beloued, and beliked of Princes, aboue all other things ought to bee very patient, courteous, and gentle in all things: For all that the followers of the Court, and suiters [Page 645] cannot obtaine in the Court, let them not lay the fault to the Prince that denyed it them, but onely to the fauoured of the Prince, and those about him for that they neuer moued it to the Kings Maiestie: nor once thought of the matter, as the poore Suters supposed they had. The paines and troubles of Court are infinite and insupportable. The Courtiers paines insupportable.
For, how quyet soeuer the Courtyer bee, they will trouble and molest him, if hee be pacient, they will be impacient and in stormes, saying: That such a man spake yll of him, and seekes continually to defame him.
Which things wee will the Courtyer heare with patience, and dissemble with wisdome. For the wise Courtyer should not bee angrie for the yll wordes they speake of him, but onely for the vile and wicked actes they doe vnto him.
Let not the Courtyer and Fauourite of the Prince be deceiued, in thinking that doing for this man, and for that man, & in shewing them fauour: that for all that, hee can binde or stay their tongues that they speak not ill of him, and their hearts, that they hate them not extreamly.
For, the Enemie receyueth not so much pleasure of that the Courtyer giueth him, as hee doeth griefe and displeasure for that that is behinde yet in the Courtyers hands to giue him.
Now in the pallaces of Princes, it is a naturall thing, for eache man to desire to aspire, and to creepe into the Princes fauour: to bee able to doe much, and to bee more worth then others, and to commaund also. And as there are manie that desire it, so are they very few in number, that by their vertues and demerits come to obtaine that high fauour.
It is a thing most sure and vndoubted, that one alone, enioying his Princes grace and fauour, shall be hated in manner of the most part of the people.
The more they are Rich, Noble, and of great power, that are beloued, and accepted of Princes: so much the more ought they to bee circumspect, and to liue in feare and doubt of such disgraces, and misfortunes, that may happen to them, sith all & euery mans eye is vppon them: and that they are the more enuyed, for that they can do much; and desire also to take from them that authoritie and credite they haue, and to spoyle them of such treasures as they possesse, or haue gotten by the Princes fauour.
And in this case the Fauourite of the Courte must not truste in the pleasures hee hath done them: neyther in the fauor he hath shewed thē: much lesse the fayned friendships they seeme to beare him, and that hee thinks he hath gotten of them: neither must he trust too much his Friends, Neighbors, and Kinsfolkes, no nor his owne Brethren: But let him bee assured, that all those that are not in the like ranke of Fauour, and estimation that hee is, (be hee of what degree or parentage hee will be, yea, and as neere a kinne as may bee) they will all bee in that his very mortall foes.
Authority to commaund, being the chiefe and highest point of honor and whereto euery man seekes to aspire, and which was cause that Pompey became the deadly enemy of Iulius Caesar his father in Law, Absolon of Dauid his naturall father, Romulus of his brother Remus, Alexander of Darius, who shewed himselfe before a father in loue, in bringing on him vp, and Marke Anthony of Augustus Caesar his great friend. So that I say, it may well bee saide, that after disdain and cankered ire, haue once possest the delicate brest of man onely concerning honour and commaundement, that it is neuer thenceforth [Page 646] recured of that infested sore, neyther by gifts & promises, and much lesse by prayers and requests.
It is true the accepted of the prince may well bee free from all thyrste and hunger, colde, and heate, warres, plague, and pouertie, and from all other calamityes and troubles of this our wretched life, but hee shall neuer be free from detractions of venomous and wicked tongues, and from spightfull and enuious persons. For no lesse is Enuie ioyned to fauour, then is thyrst to a burning ague.
In this case it is impossible but that the Courtyer should receyue manie times displeasure and disgraces in the Court, but not to giue eare to these detracters, and ill-speakers of men.
To remedy these things, the Courtyer must needes seeme to let them know by his lookes and aunswers, that hee is more offended with them, that come and tell him these lewde tales: then with those that in deed did truely report them of him.
This counsell would I giue the courtyer, that what ill so euer hee heareth spoken of him, I would wish him not seeme to know it, and much lesse to be angrie withall, nor once giue a distastfull word to the reporters thereof.
For, his choller ouer-paste, the euill words hee hath spoken to them in his anger, may turne him to more displeasure, then he hath done him hurt that caused him speake these words.
And therefore surely to bridle the Tongue, is rather a diuine then a humane vertue: and chiefly in that instant, when the heart is maistered and subdued with Chollericke passions. For afterwards it happeneth many times, that being quiet againe in our mindes we are sorry for that wee haue spoken in our anger: yea, against them that haue angred vs.
If the Courtyer should weigh euery worde that is spoken against him, and esteeme euery thing that is done to him, he should purchase himselfe a continuall and sorrowfull life: yea, and out of measure, a troublesome and vnpleasant, sith Princes courts are euer full of Serpents-tongues, and venomous harts, and that it lyeth not in mans power to let, that the hearts of men hate vs not, and that their tongues speake not ill of vs.
I would aduise the Courtyer to take all the ill that is spoken of him, in sporte and mirth, and not in anger.
Seneca sayde (and that wisely spoken) that there is no greater reuenge to punish an iniurious word, then to A worthy saying of Seneca. seeme to laugh at it; For it is a thing more naturall and proper to women, then men to desire to take reuenge of wordes, with the like words againe: sith the noble heart that esteemeth his honour, must not haue his handes in his tongue, but his tongue in his hands.
O how many haue we seene, both out of Court, and in Court, the which for no other respect, but to reuenge one onely silly word, that touched them not much, would put themselus, their goods, and fame in perill: and yet in the end had not that reuenge, which they desired, but rather redoubled it against themselues, in loosing their fond and vaine attempt. Therefore to conclude those that will bee great in fauour and estimation in the Princes Court, and those also that are now in fauour and credite with the Prince, and that desire to continue, and perseuer in his fauour still, must not make account of any wordes spoken to him, or offences done him: for all that are in fauour haue neede to suffer, and no occasion to report.
Till this present day I neuer saw any that receiued any hurt or detriment by being patient: but being impatient, I haue seen numbers cast thēselus away: you must also know, that in all [Page 648] places, where troupes and companies of people be, there is alwayes euer discords and diuersities, in opinions and iudgements of men, So that it happeneth many times in a common-weale, yea, and it meeteth sometimes in one house, that all shalbe of one bloud and kinred, yet in priuate willes; and affections, mortall enemyes. Kindred are not alwayes friends.
And therefore, sure it is a thing worthy to be noted, and no lesse to be wondred at, to see the fathers with the sonnes, the Vnckles with the nephews, the graund-fathers with the children, the sonnes in Law with their fathers in Lawe: and Brothers with their brothers: and sisters, the one to be as farre different from the other as white and blacke, and as much friends as the dogge and the cat. And all this is caused only, for that they are rather wedded to a selfe-will and opinion they haues, then they are adicted to loue and affect that that nature bindeth them to.
We see also many young Courtiers, that though they be vertuous and Noble, (hauing inherited and succeeded in Nobilitie of bloud their Ancestors) by meanes whereof they are honoured and reuerenced: and possessing also the greatnesse, and abundance of their goods and riches, (which makes them wealthy, and maintaines them honourably) enioying the Noble parentage for which they are regarded, hauing many friends and seruants that doe them great seruice and pleasure. And all in respect of their Noble Ancestors: and yet notwithstanding al these great things wee haue spoken, they follow their owne inuentions and imaginations, which their Ancestors, knowing, would haue fled: and hate and mislike that, they, doubtlesse, being aliue would haue followed.
And therefore it is rather a token of lightnesse then of good will, for one to leaue to helpe and relieue his owne friends and kinsfolks, to succour and doe good to strangers, or others, whom hee neuer knew, nor can tell what they are. For I assure you, that one of the greatest losses and mishaps that can come to a Noble house, is to haue new friendshippe and parciality with strangers and men vnknowne. That Gentleman that giueth himselfe to follow such a one as pleaseth his fantasie best, and that leaueth to leaue to those whom his Ancestors heretofore both loued and liked: shall see those old friends, not onely leaue and forsake him, but cleane giue him ouer to his will: and shortly after shall finde his substance and faculty consume and waste away; besides, the honour of his house to bee brought to vtter decay and obliuion.
And this we haue spoken, onely to aduise the Princes Officers, and such as haue credite and authoritie, that they doe not with fauour support and ayde any partiall sect: namely, that that concerneth the state and body of Common-wealth: for the esteemed of the Prince, more easily, and with lesse occasion, doe vndoo themselues, and lose the credite they haue wonne: by reason of their partialiteis and factions they maintaine, then they doe for their daily benefites and suits they importune the Prince in.
Wherefore the seruants and Officers of the Kings house, although they bee in good fauour with the Prince, and that it please him to like well of them, yet they may not so hardly support any to doe hurt to others, and so absolutely, as if they were the Lords and Princes themselues.
For albeit it pleaseth the King to call them, to honour, and to enrich them with goods and possessions, yet the King cannot, nor will not like that they shall bee suborners of factions, [Page 648] and quarels amongst their subiects in the Common-wealth.
And yet neuerthelesse it happeneth many times, that those that see themselues onely in fauour aboue others, will presume to doe violence and wrong to others, trusting to their great fauour they are in, that that shall suffice to cloke and hide any fault they shall commit, which they neuer ought to think, nor yet for any respect in the world to doe. For such vnhaply might be the crime they doe commit, that although it be in the Princes power to doe great things for them, yet he could not at that time with his honor excuse their offence, nor seeme to protect them in their lewdnesse, without great murmour and discontentation of his subiects.
I know very well, that in Court the mindes, affections, and opinions of Courtiers are so diuers and variable, and notwithstanding the beloued of the Prince endeauour himselfe all hee can possible to please and content euery man in Court, yet of all impossibilities, it is a thing most impossible euer to attaine to it, to winne all mens good willes.
Neuerthelesse, hee must so trimly and wisely behaue himselfe in all his doings, that those, at least, whom he cannot with all his pollicy and deuice make his friends, haue not yet any iust occasion giuen them to bee his enemies. I see there is no meane, no reason, no deuice nor pollicy of man, fauour nor negligence, that can defend the honoured and esteemed of Court from detraction and enuy.
Therefore I will boldly giue him this aduice with him that in matters of Iustice and other publike affayres, he beare himselfe so vpright, that notwithstadding they repine at his authoritie and credite: yet that they haue no cause offered to complayne of him.
The Courtyer is forced to complaine when his owne familiar companyons and fellow-seruants of the Prince, in his matters of contenion or quarrell step between them, not to part them, but rather to the contrary to contend with them, and ioyne in demaund of that they striue for: which the luckles Courtyer is very apt to know, although hee dares not discouer it.
For many times he supposeth it lesse euill to suffer the persecution of the enemie, then to fall into the disgrace of the beloued, and esteemed about the Prince.
For the reputed of the Prince, commonly thinke they doe much for the Common-weale, in bearing and fauouring some, and in punishing and persecuting others.
For those that are of great authoritie, professing honour and reputation, and that feare shame: would rather themselues to be defamed & reiected, then to see their enemies aduanced, or prefered to the fauor of the Prince, or of thē that be in fauor with the prince: And the beloued or officers of the Prince may not thinke, that the fauor they giue to one against an other, can bee kept secret, and that it cannot come to light: for in so doing they are deceiued: For in deed there is nothing more manifest or known in the Common-wealth, then the doings & practises of those that are in fauour and authority, yea euen to the very words they speake:
Those that are agrieued, and haue to complaine of some iniury done them, or also those that are euen the familiars of the fauoured, and that doe but aspire dayly to grow in greater credite with their Prince then others, doe not see any thing saide or done to others, that are in better credit, then themselus, be it in eating, drinking, watching, sleeping, in play, beeing quiet or busie, but they suddenly go & [Page 649] report it, and tell it to som other that is in fauour, to enter and to encrease alwayes into greater fauour and trust with them.
If there happen any discention or enmity amongst the people in the cō mon weale or realme, the esteemed of the Court must beware in any case, they put not in their hand: & if they do at all, that it be but to pacifie them, and to make them good friendes againe, and not to discouer thē worse then they were before: For if he do otherwise, all these quarrels in the end shall cease, they being reconciled together, and now made perfect friends and to him they wil all shew themselus open enemies.
And therfore it behoueth the fauored of Princes to behaue themselues so wisely towards them that are at discord and variance together, that both the one side and the other should bee glad and well pleased, to make him arbitrater between them, to decide both their causes, without any suspition that they haue of him, be it neuer so little, of partiality, of eyther part.
The same day that the fauoured of the Court shall take vpon him to beare any priuate affection to any of the Common weale, and that hee rather leane to one party, or to an other: the selfe same day and houre he shall put in great hazard his person, and not without great danger to loose his goods, together with the fauour and credit of his Prince. And the secrete enemies he hath, through the enuie they beare him, should suffice him, yea rather too much, by reason of his fauour and credit; without seeking anie new enemies, for that he saith or doth. Such as are great with the Prince, and that flye the passions, affections, and partialities of the Common-weale, may be assured they shall bee beloued serued, and honoured of all: but if they shall doe the contrary, they may trust to it likewise, that their enemies wil be reuenged of them, because they did pursue them: And their friends also will complaine of them, because they did not fauour their cause as they ought. Therfore let not the beloued thinke, if he dare beleeue me, that by hauing onely the fauour of the person of the Prince, it is inough for him to gouerne and rule the whole Realme at his pleasure: For although it cannot be denyed, that to haue so great a friend as the person of a King, it is a great aduantage and commodity, and that he may do much: yet wee must graunt also, that many enemies are able to hurt vs, and do vs great iniurie. And therefore my aduise should be, that euery wise man, hauing one friend, should beware to haue an other enemy.
CHAP. XII. That the officers and beloued of the court should be very diligent and carefull in dispatch of the affayres of the Prince, and Common-wealth: and in correcting and reforming the seruants, they should also bee very circumspect and aduised.
SVurely it is a great seruitude & trouble Great seruitude and trouble to liue in the Court. to liue in court, continually, but it is far greater when it is enforced of necessity, by reason of sutes and troubles, and yet greatest and most intolerable, whē they cannot obtain a short and briefe dispatch according to their desire; for waying well the manner and conditions of the Court, that Suiter may reckon himselfe happily dispatched, euery time that he is quickly dispatchd, although his dispatch bee not according [Page 650] to his mind. And I speake it not without a cause, that he may reckon himselfe well dispatched when he hath his answere: For without comparison, it is lesse ill of both: for the poore Suiter that attends on the Court, to be presently denyed his Suit, then to continue him long with delayes, as they they do now a daies, the more is the pitty.
If the poore Suters that goe to the Court, did know certainely that the delay made in their Suites were for no other occasion but for to dispatch them well, according to their desire, although it were not so reasonable, yet were it tollerable, the paines and trouble that they abide. But if the poore miserable and wretched creatures haue great trouble in trauersing the Lawe, and abiding their orders: obtaining it neuerthelesse in the end with great labour and toyle: yea and contrary to their expectation: haue they not yet matter ynough trow yee to complaine of? yes sure, enough to make them despaire.
Whatsoeuer he be therefore that goeth to the Court to be a Suiter for any matter of import, let him determine and thinke with himselfe he shal not obtaine his suite, euen as he wold haue it: For if he shall feed himselfe with certain promises, made in priuat, a thing common to Courtiers, to promise much, and performe nothing, with other vaine and foolish thoghts: the great hope he shall conceiue of their smokes of Court, must needes giue him afterwards occasion to despayre when hee seeth the promise vnperformed. The court is a Sea so deep, a pilgrimage so incertaine, that there wee dayly see nought els, but Lambes swim with safety in the deepest chanel, and elephants down in the shallowest foord. To go sue, to serue, to trauell, & to solicite in the Court of Princes, may aptly be likened and compared to those that put too many rich iewels to the Lottery in open market: in which it happeneth very oft, that hee that hath put in a 100. lots, shall not happen perhaps of one, and an other that only hath but in one, fortune shal so fauour him, that he shall euer after be made a rich man. The like we may say to him that hath liued so long in Court, that he hath not onely gotte him a beard, but it is also now becom a gray beard: and yet in all this long time of his seruice, he hath not gotten him any certainety, or stay of liuing to liue honestly, withall to maintaine his aged yeares in quiet: and he may well say, that all the lots haue beene vnfortunat to him which he put in aduē ture. It is true that to be called a good and vertuous man, it sufficeth to haue a sharpe witte, and good head: but to become rich, he must only haue good fortune. And this is plainely seene in the Court, that some in 4. monethes wil grow great like a Melon, and some other in 40. yeares will neuer beare but little fruit like a palme tree.
We haue told you all these things, to this end, onely to remember those that goe to the Court of Princes, to follow any fuite, or to continue a A lesson for him that meaneth to be a Courties. Courtier still, that in any case they carry a purse with them, full of money, and a heart armed with patience. Oh what pitty is it euery way to see him that is a Suiter in the Court, to bee long haled with a tedious suite, and in the end not to obtain any partof his desire, without a little pleasing winde of court: for if he wil haue his suite go forward, & take good successe, and haue it speedily granted, he must first buy it of God with bitter tears, and after of the king with hūble intercession, of the Secretaries with promises, and of the vshers with presents, and of the beloued, and in authority, with infinit seruice: so that to conclude, far greater is the rewarde they craue [Page 651] then the value, of the fauour or benefite they bestow.
If I haue discoursed vnto you sufficiently what the vnlucky Suters haue done and do: you shall further know what they thinke and doe imagine, as it falleth out true.
The sely soules they passe the nights in watch, deuising continually: not in what Church the next day they may heare the diuine Seruice, but onely by what meanes they may procure to come to the Fauourites of the Court, to speake one word vnto them.
The poore Suter (vnskilfull of courtly practise) belieueth, that when hee hath once exhibited a bill or memoriall of his Sute, to the Maister of Requests: or that he hath spoken a word or two, to any one in fauour with the Prince, that straight-wayes, without further delay he shall be dispatched of his Sute, and that he shall not need to sue any more. But alas, they are deceiued, & preuented of their expectation.
For, the vnhappie Suter shall bee no sooner out of his sight, but they presently forget all that hath bin saide vnto them: yea and peraduenture his minde so occupied, that his bill of Memoriall is also torne in pieces, and his Sute and bill committed to flying aire.
The affayres of the warres are done by force and necessitie, and those of Friends by Good-will: but those of the By what meanes affaires are dispatched. miserable Suters of the Court, by money or great importunitie.
So that it followeth, that hardly any man obtayneth the ende of his Sute, (bee his Right neuer so good) without great diligence, and painefull toyle. And many times the poore Suter of the Court departeth from his owne house, and goeth to the Court, on hope and deliberation to be dispatched in two moneths: and afterwards the poore miserable man shall spend aboue sixe moneths there without dispatch. But all this is nothing, to the griefe and displeasure hee shall feele in the ende, if with better iudgement he measure and consider, the pleasure and felicitie hee might haue had at home, with the troubles and displeasures hee abideth in the Court. For, making account with his purse, hee shall perhaps finde all his money spent, ere his sute in manner be begunne.
I tolde you but of a little wonder, to tell you that all his yll consisted in the emptying of the purse. For, indeede I should haue saide better, and more truely: telling you that hee had solde his Nagge, layde his Sworde in gage, baratted his cote and cloke, and of two shyrts he brought, the one hee solde: so that the poore-man hath no more left to chop, nor sell. And yet moreouer, mee thinks I tell you little.
If I shew you not also, that after he hath consumed all his Money that hee brought in his Purse, solde, chopped, and layd to gage all the Apparell that hee had, hee is notwithstanding all this enforced for debt, to gage to his Host, all that remains behind, to satisfie him for his lodging. So that when he commeth home to his own house, he may say truely: That hee commeth home weary, ashamed, consumed, and all that he hath at gage.
Hee that determineth to be a suter at the Court, is wont before he go from home, to make account what hee will spend euery day ordinarily: but what he shall spend extraordinarily, against his will, that he neuer reckons of.
And therefore I would counsell him for the best, if he put ten crownes in his purse, for ordinary charges, let him also put ten crownes more for extraordinarie. For, it is impossible hee should euer keepe an order and measure in so great a disorder. For many times courtiers are compelled for their honor & reputations sake, to inuite their hosts & owners of the lodgings where they lie, and besides the great charges they are [Page 652] at the way, yet come there vnbidden to dinner and supper a company of Iesters, players of Enterludes, Minstrels and Musitians, or other pleasant companions, whom he cannot refuse and turne away for honesties sake, but must needs make them eate and drinke besides the reward they looke for.
So that when hee hath made his account of ten or twenty shillinges charges for his dinner or supper, let him looke in his purse, and hee shall finde these mates haue pickt vp in rewards as much as the whole charges of his dinner or supper besides.
Moreouer, they are dayly visited of their friends and kinsfolks, and victuals are so deare, and of so excessiue price, that to make their prouision at the best hand, they must send out postes and Lackyes into all partes to be their Puruayers. And yet are they further recharged, that many times their seruants robbe them of all their money, and runne their way when they haue done, and somtimes they must new array themselues, all which things the Courtier (in respect of his estimation) is bound to do thorowly, and with the best manner, or else to sequester, and banish himselfe from Court and Courtiers life. It is true that a poore Gentleman or other Suiter (that of necessity must follow the Court) knoweth very well the cause that moueth him to bee a Courtier, and attendant on the court; but yet hee shall not know what his charge and expence will be about that suite.
If hee haue any fauour or credite in the Court, hee may happilie obtaine a quicke and ready dispatch, and so perhaps saue some part of his money in his purse he determined for to spend, without which, hee shall not onely be enforced to borrow, but to send a new messenger to his house for more money. O more is the pitty, how many haue I seene in Princes Courtes spend all that euer they brought to the Court to follow their suit, and yet could not be dispatched in any thing they came for, saue in stead of their money they consumed, they purchased them great troubles & displeasurs bewayling their lost time, and vaine expence.
And it is to be considered also, that if it be a great difficulty to speake to the Prince in our matter, to the President of the Councell, to the Master of the Requests, and to the Priuie Councell, to the Marshals of the house, to the Treasurers, to the Cofferers, and to the fouriers, and to the fauoured of the Court, it is farre greater and more trouble to entertain, and content their seruants and officers.
For I dare assure you, you shall sooner and more easily winne the loue of the Master, then you shall obtaine the fauour and good will of the Seruant.
Princes are contented if wee obey How the seruants and Officers of the Court must be entreated. them; the fauoured of the court if wee serue them: but the seruantes are neuer contented, nor in quiet, if they see wee doe not entreate them, and worship them. And surely, I will not tell you a true tale, and will lye a worde to you. In those dayes when I my selfe was also a Courtier in the Court of Princes, it stoode me vpon many times rather to trouble the masters, then to pray the seruants. If perhaps for penance of his sinnes) the suter shew himselfe importunate in his affayres, and that he presume to daresay to him some nipping or vnpleasāt word, let him bee well assured, he will not bee reuenged on him, to hurt him with sword or lance: but onely in holding backe his penne, to delay him in his dispatch: For I remember, that once being but a poore priest, I was entreted by the Procter of a Prouince [Page 653] to say him a dozen of Masses for a great Noble Man, and in great fauour and estimation in the Court, that had his matter in his hands, & he Conjured mee very earnestly, that I should not lay them for the health and saluation of his soule, but onely that GOD would inspire him, and put into his minde to dispatche him quickly of his busines. Therefore as we haue spoken of the one, it is reason wee should also speake of the other.
And therefore I say, that there are some of these Officers and Clerkes of Iudges, Magistrates, Counsellours, Secretaries, Treasurers, Marshals, Fouriers, and other Officers also of the Court, that are so wise, and men of such honesty and ciuilitie, that the discourtesies and wrongs sometimes their Lords and Masters doe vnto vs: they doe the best they can eyther to take them from vs quite, or at the least to lessen or diminish them. For the contrary also, others there are so proud and shameles, such tatlers, and vile persons, and so vnconscionable with all: of whom, as it is a great pleasure for vs to see that they write, and to heare that they can speake so well, and promise so liberally, onely to win your money, and to picke your purse: so it is a great spight to vs, and more shame and reproch, and infamie for them, when afterwardes wee see the contrarie effects of their faire wordes, and fained promises, wherewith they seede vs continually.
And adding thereto also, wee see many times that such a yong Courtier, in lesse then foure yeares that hee hath remained in seruice with a Noble man, or other officer of the Kinges in the Court, hath gotten by his practise and policy a faire moile of great price: with her harnesse all guilt, his coffers well filled, his tent for the field, with a field bedde and other furniture to it, his carpets on his Table, his cloths of Tapestrie ouer his dores, his gowns richlie furred for the Winter, & those of Sattin and Damaske, and Taffeta for the Summer: and yet notwithstanding all this glory, he may possible keepe a Curtezan for his pleasure, and maintaine her.
All which things considered, and put together, is impossible hee should doe it by the gaines of his penne, or seruice, but onely by dishonest meanes, and robbing of his Master. I saw once in my presence a poore Suter, offer the Clerke of a Secretarie, eight Rials of siluer for to dispatch him of his sute, and hee refused them flatly, and would none of them, by no meanes, notwithstanding, the poore man turned him vp the bottome of his purse, and shewed him that he had but onely foure Rials left to bring him home withall: So the poore man came to me, and entreated me for to speake to this Clerke for him, to perswade The intollerable exaction of a Secretaries Clerke. him to take his money he offered him, and to dispatch him since he had no more lest then he shewed him. And I did so: And this worshipfull Clerke made mee this vnhonest aunswere.
Sir, beholdmy face and complexion, and you shall finde that it is all of golde' and not of siluer. For I sweare to you, by our blessed Lady of Lancet, that it is more then two yeares that I receyued for my paines no other but gold, and not siluer layde in my hands.
It cannot bee but that seruaunt, that vaunts himselfe to haue a face of golde, will one day put his Masters face in the mire.
Now albeit we see the Kings officers, and others peraduenture vnder them, to ride on their nags with theyr foote clothes, to be braue in apparrel, to bee rich in Iewels, and happily to haue a hundred Crowns in his purse, wee should not maruell of it at all: but if wee haue cause to thinke any thing [Page 654] ill in them: it is for that many times they play away more money fondly, then would serue any other man to spend in all his necessaries.
That officer or Clerke that hath not aboue a hundred Crownes in his purse, and that in a night plaieth away two hundred crowns, what iudgemēt shall a man giue of him? but that eyther hee deceyueth others in his office or he stealeth & pilfreth from his master or Lord, or else he exacteth vpon the poore Suters and racks them with all extremity, without conscience and honesty, and that hee will haue it on them, euen with plaine brawling? Yea and though these good fellowes bee liberall in play (as you haue heard) yet I warrant you they are not spare of diet neyther, but if they call their friends at a time to their table in the Hall, or else bid their Curtezan to some Garden, you may be assured they want no dainty meates, nor delicate wines to please their liking lust: yea peraduenture with more copy, and better meate and drinke then their Masters or lords haue any.
Here could I mate them with like companions to themselues, that marchants prentizes, which for their lauish expence, their excessiue play, their lusty banquetting and feasting, otherwhile their secret friends in gardens, and blinde tauernes, come not behind them at all in delicacy of fare, and in sumptuous expence, but rather go before, and leaue them far behind.
And how thinke you, can these foule riots bee borne by any likelyhoode of the prentices owne ability? Nay sure, of the Masters cost (as best able) whose purse paieth for the good cheare, though hee good man fare at home but thinly.
But well, since it toucheth not our matter, I will returne againe where I left. All these thinges notwithstanding, they are dishonest, they are somtimes tolleruble, and to bee borne, so that with these faults they would bee diligent to dispatch men, and easily to talke withall.
But alas, for pitty, wee see that for all these complaints they heare, and for all the requests and intreaty, that may be made to them, they will neuer take pen in hand before the poore suiter take his hand out of his purse, that they may feele him a little.
We haue spoken all these thinges to admonish, remember, and beseech the fauoured of the Prince, and other their officers, that neyther themselues nor their seruants vnder them, be long and slow in dispatching such things as they haue charge, and chiefly of poor and miserable Suters. For if we consider the qualities and conditions of men, Wee see that to many Suiters it were lesse detriment and more profit, to bee answered quickly (though they were denied) then dispatched slowly (as to haue it graunted) to their great charge and long trouble: Truly, me thinkes it is a great secret of God to know, why all those that are Suiters in the Court of Princes, and those also whom wee sue to are all mortall. And all the Suites that wee labour for, seeme, yea, to say more truly, are immortall.
And hereof wee see a dayly experience, that the Suiters dye, and their Some suiters dye, but their suites neuer haue end. suites liue for euer, being neuer determined. O excellent Art, and fine deuice of suite, that Courtiers are wont to vse, that are gratefull to Princes, as for familiar example.
They find a way to put in a thousand manner of lets to hinder and delay the sutes, because that when by tract of time, they haue more then halfe despayred the hopelesse Suiters: they then to reuiue them againe, and to make their honour seeme the greater, dispatch them euen in a moment, without let or delay, and to the suiters [Page 659] whole contentation. It is good reason the Noble Prince haue a regard of the things hee giues, and to whome they graunt them: and likewise of the Time and place. For, in receyuing fauour for a good turne, at the Princes hand, they sometimes make more account and estimate of the Liberalitie, and bountifull minde of the Prince, then they will doe of the giftes themselues.
Sure it is a good thing, and laudable, for those that are continually about the person of the Prince, that they be easie to be spoken withall, pacient to heare, wise in aunswering, of good fame in their life, and readie to The fauoured of the court ought to bee easily spoken with. dispatch and doe good.
For being otherwise, they may be well assured they shall shew the marke and white for their enemies to shoote their piercing shafte at, and shall giue the Suters also occasion to complaine and speake ill of them.
And therefore to cut them short, I giue them this counsell, that in those things they are besought, that they be not too harde to bee entreated: and in that they are requested, that they bee neuer too straunge, nor drawing backe, much lesse couetous: and in those things that are giuen them, they bee neuer vnthankfull: and with those that they are daylie conuersant, that they bee very well aduised and considered: and those thinges whereof they are aduertised, that they endeauour themselues to keepe it in minde and memory, and neuer to forget it. And if they shal do otherwise, let them assure themselues, and trust vnto it, that if they in time of suite shall shut the dores against the poore suiters, that the common people also will neuer open their hearts once to serue or loue them: Princes seruantes should so gouerne themselues, that though there were found some ill persons that dispised them, for that they might doe much, and were of great authority: yet that there might bee many others also honest, that should prayse and commend them for the great good they doe.
That man that is enuied, dispraysed, defamed, disloued, and all thought of of all, should thinke it lesser ill to die honestly, thē to liue with shame and in disgrace of euery man: For to say truely, me thinketh no man could liue a more bitter and hard life, although hee abode many sorrowes, then to see him disliked generally of the common weale.
It is an honest and naturall thing for men to endeauour themselues by all diligence and industry to get much but it should bee farre better, and much more worth, to procure themselues good will: For in effect, nothing doth more satisfie and glad the heart, and maketh it more quiet, then to thinke that hee is beloued, and well accepted of all.
It is a most certaine Rule, that the foes and enemies of the fauoured Courtiers, neuer ioyne in friendship with others, but with those whome they know to bee full of passions and quarrels like themselues.
Of which detractors, if any one happen at times to go to the house of the honoured of the Court, vpon any occasion of suite, and that they cannot presently speake with them: they will not say, I warrant you that he was busie, and could not speake with him, but that hee was so proud, and so haughty, that hee would not once heare nor see them.
Wee are so willing and forward in wishing well, and so selfe-willed and obstinate in hating, that vpon a light occasion many times wee doe loue those wee loue, and with as much lesse occasion we defame and speake il of those wee hate. Therefore the fauored of Princes shal do great seruice to [Page 660] GOD, and much profite to the Common-weale, if they giue order to dispatch all Suters (high or low) speedily: Since it is to the King onely that they impute the denyall of their Sutes, but for the delayes and prolongation of them, that only they lay to the charge of the Fauourites, and beloued of Princes.
And those that are great with the Prince, may not excuse themselues, by reason of the numbers of matters they haue in their hands, For if he be alone, and that it lye in his hands only to dispatch all, and that hee is not able to satisfie them all, it cannot bee but that some one of his Friends will aduertise the King that hee cannot doe all: and how the people complaine, and the poore-Suters finde themselues agrieued: which purchase him great enemyes and yll-willers, by reason the Common-wealth is so altered.
So that he shall not tarry long, but the Prince vnderstāding of these complaints, will ioyne a companyon with him, to ease him of some parte of his paines. And therfore the Noble princes and great Personages, should admonish, and warne the Officers well, (whom they take to dispatch matters) that they bee wise and Learned men, vertuous, and of good life: and that they bee not too partiall in theyr doings, nor too sharpe and rough in their aunswers. For many times there happen more Troubles, and sinister vnlooked-for-chaunces, to Princes, and Noble-personages, for the vncurteous languages of their Officers and deputies, &c: then for any euills that they themselues doe commit.
And therefore those that are in fauour and Authoritie with the Prince, What persons should be chosen for gouernors. must of necessitie foresee, to chuse vnder them such persons, to whom they giue the care and charge of their affaires and businesses, to dispatch mens matters and Sutes, that they be liberal of condition, pleasant in their conuersation, curteous in aunswers, true in their wrytinges, easie and diligent in their dispatches, very honest and modest in that they giue or take: and sincere and perfite in all their other vertues, if it be possible.
So that they may euer be more carefull to get Friendes for their Lord and Maister, then money. For, like as the life of the maister of the Ship consisteth, and dependeth in the onely guiding and iudgement of the skilfull Pylote, and the conscience of the Iudge in his Constitute, the goods of the Marchaunt in the iust dealings of his Factor, and the victorie of the Noble Prince, in his valiaunt Captaine: Euen so likewise doth the honour of the fauoured consist in those hee hath chosen officers vnder him for the dispatch of mens affayres.
And although the seruant of the beloued bee no partaker with his Master of his favor with the Prince, yet hee is a coadiutor to him, to support his credite and fauour, and many times also a ready meane vtterly to vndoe his Master, and to dishonour him for euer.
The like watch and care the good Bishoppe hath ouer his flocke, for to preach vnto them the Gospell of Iesus Christ: the selfe same ought the magistrates and higher powers haue to their Officers that are vnder them, in taking heed they be not slow and negligent in dispatching such businesse as as they haue in charge, that they bee not dishonest of life, presumptuous in demaunding, and false in their writing: for the least of these faults sufficeth vtterly to vndoe the Seruant, & also to defame the master.
And therefore so soone as the beloued of the Court haue any suspition in the World, or inckling, be it neuer so little, that his Seruant is growne to be proud, dishonest, and of a naughty [Page 659] conscience, he ought not onely immediately to correct him for it: but to put him out of his seruice forthwith, and to turne his coate ouer his eares. Otherwise they will murmur so much at the seruant that doth all these faults, as at the Master that will not see them, and suffereth them. Therefore the reputed of Court, must first see, and peruse ouer the writings and doings of their seruants and Secretaries, before they dispatch them out of their hands and to moderate their gaine with reason that is due to them.
Otherwise their enemies might iustly say, that they keepe not such vnder them, to dispatch poore men that sue to their Masters, but rather to spoyle and robbe them.
And therefore they were better to augment their wages they giue those officers and seruants, then to consent or dissemble with their theft: For so doing, the seruant can neuer rise in wealth, but the Master must needs diminish in honour.
It may happen many times, that the esteemed of the Court shall bee so occupied in the affayrs of the Common weale, that he cannot though he wold giue audience to the Suiters.
But when they are thus occupyed that they cannot in deed, they must then commaund their seruants and officers, that they courteously entreate them, and heare them, and not checke or rebuke them, and call them importunate suters: For it is no reason, that for dispatch of their businesse, the poor soules should be laden with iniurious words.
CHAP. XIII. That the beloued of the Court beware they bee not proud and high minded: for lightly they neuer fall but thorow this wicked vice.
WEe reade that Rhehoboam succeeded his Father in 12 realmes that were his, althogh they were but small realmes, who beeing requested and exhorted by the graue The cruelty of Rhehoboam, and his punishment. aged men of his Realme, to be courteous and temperate, and not greedy, nor auaricious in recouering the tributes and subsidies the other Realmes gaue him, and to bee merciful, and pittifull in punishing the offences committed, answered them thus.
My Father beate you onely with simple whippes, but I will not scourge you with whippes, but plague you with Scorpions: for my little finger is greater then was his whole arme.
Which happened very ill to him, that for to chastice the proude and arrogant words he spake to them, and to punish him for his wicked doings and enormities committed, they afterwardes reuolted against him, and tooke from him eleuen of his Realms and all his friendes forsooke him: so that as hee augmented in greatnesse of his fingers, hee diminished as much in his Realmes and riches.
So great was the pride likewise of King Pharaoh, that not contented that God had pardoned him his sins, and with the ten plagues he had sent him, did yet notwithstanding resist and pursue the people of Israel.
[Page 662] Wherefor the sea that was made a plaine passage and high way, for the safeguard of the children of Israel his enemies, was prepared a sepulture for him and his.
Pompey the Great also being in Asia, when it was told him that he shold leuie his power, and prepare his men to be in readinesse to resist the battell that Iulius Caesar came to giue him, with a great fury he stamped his foote vpon the ground, and proudly spake these words.
Next to the Gods I feare no mā, no not all mortall men, although they all were bent against mee, my power being so great, that I am able to destroy Iulius Caesar, and all his power comming against me: And not onely the Realmes of Asia shall fight for Pride was the ouerthrow of Pompey, & many other Princes. mee, but also I will commaund the ground that I tread on to rise against him.
But what was the fatall end of Pompeyes pride? His Captaines lost the battell, his children their Realmes and Seigniories, and hee in fine his head, Rome her Liberty, & his friends their liues.
The Emperour Domitian also was so vicious in his doings, and so proud in his thoughts, that he openly commaunded the Gouernours and Magistrates of his Realme in all their Edicts and proclamations to say these words:
Domitian, our God, and our Prince, commaundeth that this thing bee done: But loe the finall end of his pride, in taking vppon him the name of a god, by consent and counsell of his wicked wife Domitia, hee had seuen deadly wounds giuen him in his bedde with a dagger. And thus wofully he ended his glorious life.
Plutarch also recounteth that king Demetrius was the proudest Prince that euer raigned; For hee was not contented to see himselfe serued of all men like a great and mighty Prince, as he was, but hee made them also honour him as a god, And he would not suffer any straunge Ambassadours to come into his presence, but they shold be apparrelled like Priests.
Haman was also very familiar with the King Assuerus, and although all those of his Realme did him great seruice, and that strangers had him in great veneration, and did honor him maruellously, yet was there a glorious Mardocheus, that would neuer do him reuerence, nor once put off his cappe to him: by reason whereof this Haman that was in so great fauour commaunded a gybbet of fifty yardes high to bee set vppe for Mardocheus, whom hee would haue hanged on that gibbet, to be reuenged on him for the iniury he had done him: But the Diuine wil of God was such, and fortune did permit it, that on the same Gallowes Hamon thought to haue put Mardocheus to death, on the selfe same himselfe was hanged.
Themistocles and Aristides were 2. famous men among the Greekes, and because they were both great Princes and Philosophers, and had in great reputation of all those that knew them, there was such a secret emulation and ambition betweene them, the one to raigne ouer the other, that both aspiring, each to commaund other, there followed great disorders and oppressions of the subiects of their Common-Weale.
Wherefore Themistocles moued with pitty and compassion of so great a Tirant, which for their sakes, their Common weale endured, one day in the Market place before all his people with a loude voyce, hee spake these words.
Know you, O you people of Athens, that if you doe not lay handes on my exceeding presumption, and on the ouer great ambition of Aristides, [Page 663] that our Gods will bee offended, the temples will fall down to the hard foundation, our treasures will bee consumed, our selues destroyed, and our common weales brought to vtter ruine and decay. Therefore once againe, good people, I say, bridle these our inordinate and vnspeakeable affections betime, lest the reines layde in our neckes be runne too farre. O golden wordes of a Prince, and worthie eternall fame.
Lucanus also, when hee would reproue the pride and presumption of the Romane Princes sayde, that Pompey the great could neuer abide to haue any for his companion or equall with him within Rome: And Iulius Caesar also wold neuer suffer that there should bee any greater in the Worlde then himselfe. And therefore to discourse a little of this abominable and horrible vice of pride, we haue not without great reason layde before you these approued examples, before wee beginne to reproue it: For in al things the examples wee shew you, are wont to moue vs more, then the reasons we seeme to tell you of. For that which I haue seene, for that I haue read, and for that I haue heard say also of others I am most assured and resolued therof, that by the onely cause of this wicked sinne of pride, proceedeth the ruine and vtter decay of all our greatest Pride the ruine and decay of all things. things and affayres of this life for by all other sinnes a man may indeede discend and decline from his degree and state of honour and estimation: but by this onely sinne hee cannot chuse but hee must fall downe flat to the ground.
They finde out the middest and center of the earth, the depth of the sea, and the highest toppes of Riphey Mountaines, the end of the great mount Caucasus, and the beginning of the great floud Nile, and only the little heart of man, touching desire to rule and commaund, can neuer finde ende.
The insatiable couetousnesse is such, that it cannot bee contented with the things wee haue, but onely with those wee repute of lesse price: Likewise Ambition & pride to commaund, cannot bee contained within boundes, but onely by obeying: For neuer no vice can haue end, if hee that haue it, doe not leaue it, and banish it from him.
After Alexander the Great had conquered all Asia, and had subdued the great India, he was one day reproued of the great Philosopher Anacharses, The speech of Anacharses the Philosopher to Alexander. who tolde him these words. Sith thou art now, O Alexander, Lord of the earth, why doest thou weary thy selfe so much in thy affayres, as no paine seemeth troublesome to thee? To whom Alexander answered. Thou hast tolde mee many times, Anacharses, that besides this world, there are also three others. And if it bee so as thou sayest, how great a reproach and infamy it were to me, that being three other worlds, I should bee Lord but onely of one. Therefore I doe dayly sacrifice to the Gods, that though they take mee out of the life of this World, yet at least they will not deny mee of so glorious a conquest. I confesse that the Scriptures excepted I haue no wordes so rise in memorie as these, whereby may easily be perceyued, that for to quiet and to content a proud and haughty heart, the seigniorie of the whole World is not yet sufficient, and how ended the pride of this glorious prince? euen thus.
Hee that hoped for to conquere, and to bee Lorde of three other Worldes, did not rule this one onely aboue three yeares. Wee may boldly say this, and sweare it, and may also plainely proue it, to any that desire to see it, that he wanteth both [Page 664] wit and knowledge that taketh vppon him to bee proud and presumptuous: For the more hee looketh into himselfe, and reconsidereth and considereth his state and calling, and what he is, hee shall finde in him a thousande occasions, fitte to humble him, but neuer a one onely to make him proude and naughty. How great, rich, mighty, noble and worthy soeuer the person be, euery time that wee happen to see him, and that we haue no acquaintance of him.
And that we desire to know what hee is, wee doe not aske of what Element, of what Sea, of what Fire, of what Planet, of what Climat, of what Sunne, of what Moone, nor of what ayre, but onely of what Countrey hee is of, and where he was born: For wee are all of the earth, wee liue in the earth, and in the end wee haue to turne into the earth, as to our naturall thing.
If the Planets, and the beasts could helpe vs with the Instrument and benefite of the tongue, they would take from vs the occasions of vaine glory: For the starres woulde say, that they were created in the firmament, the Sunne in the Heauens, the birdes in the ayre, the Salamander in the fire, and the fish in the water: but onely the vnhappy man was made of earth, and created in the earth. So that in that respect, wee cannot glory to haue other kinsfolke neerer to vs, then are the wormes, the flyes, and horse-flyes. If a man did consider wel what he were, hee would assertaine vs that the fire burns him, water drowns him, the earth wearies him, the ayre troubles him, the heate grieues him, the colde hurtes him, and the day is troublesome to him, the night sorrowfull, hunger and thirst makes him suffer, meate and drinke filles him, his enemies dayly follow him, and his friendes forget him: So that the time a man hath to liue in this wretched world, cannot be counted a life, but rather a long death.
The first day, wee see one borne, the selfe same we may make reckoning that he beginnes to dye: and although that person liued amongst vs a hundred yeares after in this world, wee should not say therefore that he liued a long time, but onely that he tarried a great time to dye.
Therefore that person that hath his life tyed to so many tributes, I cannot deuise, or thinke with my selfe why, or wherfore he should be proud. But now returning againe to our purpose, let vs say, & exhort the seruants and familiars of Princes, that they take heede they bee not proude and presumptuous. For it seldome hapneth, that the fauoured of Kinges and Princes fall out of fauour and credite for that they haue, or can doe much, nor for that they craue and desire much: but for that they are too bold and presume too much. For in the Court of Kings and Princes, there is nothing more hurtfull and lesse profitable, then pride & presumption: For oft times the ouerweening of the Courtier, and the foolish vaine pride The fauourites of princes ought to beware of pride. and reputation, he hath of himselfe, bringes him to bee in the Princes disgrace, and makes the people also to be offended and angry with him: For till this day wee neuer saw, nor heard tell of any that euer got into the Princes fauour and credite, for that he was proude and high minded, but onely for that hee hath shewed himselfe an humble, obedient, courteous, louing, and a faithfull seruant. I would bee of this minde, that the Courtier that seeth hee is receyued into fauour in the Princes Courte, should euer waxe better in seruing well, then grow worse in presuming too much.
And I dare boldly say & affirm that it [Page 665] is a meere point of Follie, by his pride and rashnesse to loose all that in one day, that by great good Fortune hee hath attained vnto in many yeares.
And though that the Fauoured Courtyer (subiect possible to his Fantasticall humour) be somtimes ouercome with choler or carnall desire, drawne with auarice, and addicted to the gorge, enuironned with enuie, plunged in slouth and ydlenes, or some other vice and imperfection, it shall not skill much, neyther be any great wonder: since all mankinde is subiect to those passions: and neyther the Prince, nor the Commonweale, will reckon much of that.
For, of all these faultes and vices, there can come no greater hurte vnto him, saue only that the common people would murmure against him. But his pride and Peacockes glorie once knowne and espied, euery man casteth his eyes vppon him, to beholde his Princely gate, and curseth him, in word and deede.
Therefore let a man bee in as great fauour as hee can deuise to be, as worthy, Noble, Rich, and of as great power and authority as hee desireth to be: I neuer saw any ill in all my life, if with all these vertues hee were prowde and high-minded, but in the ende he was persecuted of manie, and hated and enuyed of all.
For those that are in greatest fauor about the Prince, haue secret enemies enough to hinder theyr credite, although they doe not purchase nowe, to accuse them of their pride and presumption. And as we are taught by experience, the burning coale cannot onely be kept aliue, except it bee couered with the hote ymbers thereon. I meane, that the fauour of the Prince cannot bee long maintained, without good bringing vppe, and ciuill manners, gentle conuersation, and Familiaritie.
The great men of authoritie about the Prince, runne eftsoones into great and many dangers: and this happeneth, because they would not bee reproued in any thing whatsoeuer they doe, much lesse heare any words that should displease them, neyther can they abide to be tolde of their faultes, much lesse suffer to bee corrected for them.
Neyther doe they suffer willingly to be counselled in any thing, be it of neuer so great weight & importance, neyther would they haue any companion with them, in fauour with the Prince: but they desire to be both on the right hand of the Prince, and on the left: still they onely would be the fauored of the prince, and none other: aspyring to gouerne them, in all theyr doings, and to bee thought and reputed the sole and onely rulers of the affayres of the prince, and his commonweale, and to be belieued in all things of the prince, and to be obeyed also of the common-people.
Those therefore that are continually resident in the Courts of princes, and that haue the chiefest roomes and Offices in the Court, let them well consider, and keepe in memorie this one word, which I will tell them: And that is this as followeth▪
That the first day they take vppon them to bee superintendents and gouernors of the Common-weale, euen in the selfe-same day they shall put in hazard their honour, fauour, and credit, how great soeuer they be. For, with great difficulty are the least things the prince himselfe comandeth, executed or done in his Realme, or Commonweale: and therefore may the fauored of the Court see, how much more hard it is for him to rule, (as sole and absolute Lord) the affaires of the Realme, and to be obeyed in the Commonweal: since the King himselfe cannot doe it, by his Regall authoritie.
[Page 666] And therfore the lesse he shall desire to meddle with the affaires of the people, the more shall he liue in quiet and contented: For naturally the common people are so vnstable, and vncertaine in their doings, vnthankefull of benefites receyued, and so ingratefull of a good turne done them: that the beloued of the Court, or any other person in fauour with the Prince can neuer doe any thing for the people (be it neuer so well) but they will speake ill, and mislike of him, and find fault with some of his doings.
It is impossible that those, that will commaund many thinges in the Court of Princes should alwayes doe their things so, but they should somtime tread awry.
And admit their faultes bee but light, and of small moment, yet they may bee assured there will be enough that will both open them to the common weale, and tell them also secretly to the Prince alone.
For those that seeke to diuorce the fauored of the Court from the Prince, doe not complaine or finde fault for that they are more in fauour with the Prince then others, but they will shew they take it in ill part, they haue more authority and commaund then others in the Common-weale: Saying, that by meane of their place and authority, and vnder colour of good zeale, to minister iustice, they giue commonly foule and iniurious words, farre vnfit for the authority of the person, and worthinesse of the place: so that it cannot be otherwise chosen, but that continuing this disorder, they must needes make the king suspect them, and besides that bring a discorde betwixt the king and those that hee fauoureth, and make him maruellously offended with them: For in the end, Princes would alwayes be serued, and obeyed, but not ruled and commanded. And it is a most true saying. Ouer-much familiaritie breedeth contempt. which although it may be borne, betweene men of like degree: and coequalitie, yet is it not tollerable, between the prince & the fauored of the Prince. But rather euery day, houre, moment, that the Fauoured Courtyer entreth into the Princes pallace, or into his priuy-chamber, hee ought euer to doe it with as great curtesie, reuerence, humilitie, and honour, and in speaking to the King, as if hee had neuer spoken with him, nor seene him.
So that hee should let all men see, that though it please the Kings Majesty to make of him, and to accept him into his fauour, yet that hee leaue not to serue him, and doe him that duety that all other seruants doe, and are bounde to doe.
The safest and most certaine way to maintaine those that are sublimated, and exalted in the Courtes of Princes, and to raise vp and bring those to aucthority that are lowe and of base condition, is: that the esteemed repute himselfe euer a Seruant, and that the seruant neuer vaunt nor boast himselfe to be fauoured or esteemed.
The familiars of Princes ought euer to beware that there come no complaints The fauourites of princes ought to beware of complaints. of them to the Princes care: For, as a drop of Water, by Time and continuall Fall, commeth to pierce the hardest stone: so it might happen that the numbers of complaints might bee occasion for the prince to withdrawe his fauor and loue from the Courtier againe. If his only seruices were sufficient to induce the Prince to fauor & loue him: so the number of his subiects cōplaints against him, were occasion enough to make him mislike him, and and put him out of fauor clean, changing his loue and fauor, to hate and discredite. For it is a certaine thing, that when the Prince doth looke well into his owne doings, he had rather be be loued of all, then serued of one alone.
[Page 667] The honored Fauorite of the Court may not so much regarde the honour and credit he is called to by his prince as the basenes and pouertie he was in, when it pleased the king to like of him and that he came first acquainted with the King.
For, if he did otherwise, it might so happen, that like as Fortune had brought him to that high estate hee had: So Pride might ouerthrow him againe, and bring him as low as hee was before: For, I should haue saide more truely a great deale, saying: That it would haue made him fall downe right: beeing the propertie of Fortune, to suffer the baser sort (whom she hath caled to honour) onely to returne them to their meane estate & calling, they were of at first, and neuer to leaue the fauored of the Prince, and men of aucthoritie (nor neuer satisfied) till shee hath throwne them downe headlong into extreame misery, neuer to rise againe.
Agathocles (first the sonne of a Potter, and afterwards made king of Scicilia) whilst hee liued, hee euer vsed this manner, that in his treasurie or iewell house, yea, and also at his Table, amongst all his cups and dishes of gold and siluer, hee had also some of Earth amongst them: and beeing asked the occasion, why in so great a Treasurie and masse of golde and siluer, he had so vile and base a thing as Earth?
Hee aunswered thus.
I drinke in golden cups, and eate in Earthen dyshes, to giue thankes vnto the Gods, which of a Potters-sonne that I was, brought mee to this Royall estate of A worthy speech of Agathocles K: of Scicilia. a mighty King. And I do it also, to haue euer more cause to bee humble and lowly, and to flye Pryde. For, it is an easier thing, and more likelyer, for a king to become a Potter, then for a Potter to attain to the greatnes & state of a king These wordes of Agathocles were euer worthie to bee noted and had in [...] nory, since we see plainly that to giue a man a fall, a little stone sufficeth to make vs stumble, and fall to the ground, but to rayse vs vp againe, wee must needes helpe vs with power of handes and feet. It may well be, that this braue Courtier and fauoured of the Court, before hee came to this degree of honour, was but of a meane house, and b [...]fuly borne: and besides that esteemed of few, for his nobilitie of bloud: of an vnknowne Countrey, of poore parents, of small substance, and no better nor otherwise fauoured of fortune in his birth or linage: of all which things he hath no cause to be ashamed, but rather to glory, & praise God: For hee shall euer bee more esteemed in the Court, and wel thoght of, to remember from whence hee came, and to regarde his first estate: then hee shall, if he waxe glorious, & high minded, by reason of the fauour he is at this present, vtterly forgetting his first rising.
Titus Liuius reciteth, that the renowmed Romane Quintus Cincinnatus, before he came to bee made Captaine of Rome, hee was taken out of the fields a labouring man, plowing & tilling the ground. And this so noble a person beeing occupied in great affayres of the common weale, eyther in prouisions, or munitions, or in expeditions of warre, was wont to sigh before all the Captaines and say: Alas, who could tell me now any newes how my Beefes doe in my graunge, my sheepe in the mountaines, and whether my seruauntes haue prouided them of Hay and Pasture for to keepe them the next yeare.
Surely it is to be thought, that whosoeuer speakes these wordes with his mouth, must needes haue little pride in his heart.
And vndoubtedly hee proued his words true, and shewed, that hee spake as hee thought and in good earnest without intent of iest: since afterwards [Page 668] returned home againe to follow the plough, to plant his vines, and to see his owne thinges gouerned, leauing behinde him a perpetuall testimony of his noble and worthy doings. And his common Weale also greatly enriched by his famous acts.
Saul was King of Israel, and taken fot a God, and was annointed of Samuel, his Father a poore husbandman of the Countrey, and hee from his youth brought vp in that trade, for to holde the plough, and yet when hee was King, he neuer disdayned for to plough his ground, to sow his oates, and to driue his beasts, now to pasture then home againe: So that the good King did glory this day to holde the plough, and to morrow to fight with his sword.
When Fortune therfore sheweth her selfe enemy to any, and that from great dignity and high calling, shee ouerthroweth him, and bringeth him to low and meane estate: It is then that he hath good cause to complain of fortunes cruelty, and to bewayle his wretched happe, ashamed to see his lothsome misery. But when shee worketh contrarily, and from mean estate brings him to great honour and credite, that must needes be great honor and glory to him. Therefore I say, let them beware that beare rule and authority in the Court, that they be not proud, glorious & high minded, neither otherwise detected of any kinde of vice, though they be neuer so much in fauour and estimation. Sith Fortune sheweth most her spight against the proud and disdainefull heart, rather then to the humble and meeke.
To stop the enemyes mouth, there can bee found no better meanes, then for the beloued of the Court not to bee proude and presumptuous, since no man is found so madde or Foolish in the same, as once to dare to say, I accuse this man, because hee is in fauour and estimation: but hee may boldly doe it, when hee seeth indeede that hee is a prowde vaine-glorious foole.
If wee see the fauoured of the Court offended with one another, wee will say, It is but heate, if wee see him eate too much, wee will say, it is but of a good stomacke. If he rise late, we will excuse him, and say, It was late ere he went to bed, and that hee was wearie with watching. If he play oft, we will say, he doth it for pastime: if hee be carefull in keeping that hee hath together, that hee is wi [...] and pollitike: If hee speake much, that hee is a pleasaunt man, and giuen to be merrie: If he speake little, that he is wise and modest: If hee spend much, that he is liberall and bountifull: but if he be glorious and proude, what shall a man say on him, and with what honest meanes Pride of all other faults inexcusable can wee excuse him? Surely let others looke. For I knowe not.
Truely, for all other faultes and errors of men, they may honestly be excused, saue onely that of pride. For, though many times we commit other offences, it is but through frailty: but if we offend in Pride, it commeth of a great folly, and want of discretion.
And for the contrarie, the lowly and curteous condition of Courtyers, do not onely depresse and refist the detractions and murmurings of their Enemies, but doth inforce them against their willes to say well of them. For, GOD doeth suffer many times, that the peruerse Nature and condition of one, is subdued and ouercome by the good and gentle vsage of another.
Therefore the beloued of the Courte should take great heed that they shew not themselues prowd in their words, and much lesse in their ceremony o [...], which they vse in Court: as in going vp the stayres, in entring in at the dores, in taking the stoole to sit downe, and also in the putting off his Cap, &c. [Page 669] And though perhappes hee that shall reade these our aduertisementes, will thinke them rather precepts for Children, then for men: yet I will answer him neuerthelesse, that they are verie necessary for those that are in fauour in the Court, and for all other Courtiers, without the vse of which he may happily nourish a venernous serpent in his brest.
And therefore not without great reason wee haue spoken that we haue, that of too little heed taking, sometimes there may follow great trouble to the fauoured Courtier. For many times they murmur more against him, in not putting off his Cappe; when hee is courteously saluted, then they doe, if they deny their fauour, when they are requested.
If one Courtier leaue to doe, curtesie to another, they say hee doth it not, for that hee beareth him ill will, but for want of bringing vp But if hee bee great with the King, then they say it is not for want of good maners, but for that he is too proude.
To say truly, it is an vnhappy life, the life of the beloued in the Court, sith they attribute all their faults and errours to folly, although they committed them rather through negligence, and want of foresight, then of pretended malice, or ill will, as it is taken and thought.
Gneus Flacous a Noble Romane, going in company with other Romanes to visite a sicke man, and comming also to an other Romane to see the same sicke person likewise, and being no place commodious in the Chamber, where the last might sitte downe, neyther any stoole left to sit downe vpon: they say, hee rose off from his stoole, & gaue him place that came last.
The which humanity and curtesie was afterwards published among all the Romanes, and after also greatly praysed of the Writers.
And the Romanes also, being uery true, graue, curious, and worthy of great faith and credite in all that they wrote, it is to be credited, that that act of courtesie was much noted and esteemed, sith they would write it in the most noble and Heroicall acts of their Common-weale.
When the fauoured Courtier is accompanied with Knights and Gentlemen of the Court, that brings him to the Court, and it happeneth any to goe vp the degrees before him, hee should not passe for that, much lesse shew any token that hee made any rockning of it.
For to say the truth, it is no great matter for him to goe vp before him on the degrees of stoue, sith hee went before al, on the degrees of fauour. What matter is it to the fauoured or Officer of the Court, to see an other enter in at the stayre dore before him, if afterwards when they shall come where the King is, hee shall goe into the Priuie Chamber, at one that indeed is in fauour and beloued, and the other shall stand without like a sheepe?
And to conclude, I say, if I were in the number of those that are thus beloued, and fauoured of the King: I would in the Kings Chamber vse my fauour and credite, and abroad, all curtesie and ciuility.
CHAP. XIIII. That it is not fitte for Courtiers to bee too couetous, if they meane to keepe themselues out of many troubles and daungers.
AVlus Gelius, and Plinie render true testimony in their writings, that the honesty of the Romanes was so great in their eating, and their modesty in their maintayning of themselues such, that they did not suffer any Romane Citizen to haue more houses then one to dwell in, nor but one gowne to put on his backe, one horse to ride vpon, nor aboue two yoake of oxen to till his land, Titus Liuius, Macrobius, Cicero, Plutarch, Salust, Lucan, Seneca, Aulus Gelius, Herodian, Eutropius, Trebellius, Vulpitius, and all the other Romane Writers, do neuer cease to prayse the auncient Romane pouerty, saying the Common welth of Rome, neuer lost one iote of her greatnes and honour, during the time that they went abroad to conquer other Realmes and Dominions: but only since they beganne to gather treasure together.
Lycurgus the Philosopher, who The lawes of Lycurgus, King of the Lacedemonians. afterwards was King of the Lacedemonians) ordayned in his Lawes hee made, that no neighbour should haue any more goods then an other, but that all houses, lands, vines, and possessions, golde, siluer, apparrell, moueables, and generally of all other things whatsoeuer, should be indifferently holden among them to the common vtility of all.
And being asked, why hee would not consent that the Common weale should haue her own priuate commodities and particulars, answered thus:
The paines and trauels men endure in this mortall life, and the greate troubles and disorders that come dayly to the Common weale, chance not so much for that men haue neede of liuing to maintaine themselues with all, but for that they do desire to leaue their heyres and successors. And therfore I haue appointed euery thing in common among subiects, because that during their liues they might haue honestly to maintaine themselues withall, and that they should not leauy any thing to dispose by will after their deathes.
Herodotus sayth also, that it was decreede by the Inhabitants of the Isles Baleares, that they should suffer none to come into their Country to bring them any golde, siluer, Iewels, or precious stones. And this serued them to great profite: For by means of this Law, for the space of foure hundred yeares that they had great warres with the Romanes, the Carthagenians, the French, and the Spaniards, neuer any of these Nations once stirred to goe about to conquere their land, being assured that they had neyther golde nor siluer, to robbe, or conuey from them.
Promotheus that was the first that gaue Lawes to the Egyptians, did not prohibite golde nor siluer in Egypt (as those of the Isles Baleares did in theyr territories) neyther did he also commaund that all things should be common, as Licurgus: but also commanded, that none in all his Kingdome should be so hardy once to gather any masse or quantitie of golde or siluer together, and to hoord it vp. And this he did vpon great penalties: for as hee sayde, Auarice is not shewed in building of fayre houses, neyther [Page 671] in hauing rich moueables, but in assembling and gathring together great treasure, and laying it vp in their coffers.
And Plutarch in his booke, De Consolatione, sayth also, That if a rich man dyed among the Rhodians, leauing behind him one onely sonne, and no more suruiuing him, they wold not suffer that he should bee sole heyre of all that his Father left: but they left him an honest heritage, & liuing, to his state and calling, and to marry him well withall, and the rest of all his Fathers goods they dissipated among the poore and Orphans,
The Lydians, that neyther were Greekes nor Romanes, but right barbarous people, had a law in their common weale, that euery man should be bound to bring vp his children, but not to be at charges in bestowing thē in marriage: So that the sonne or daughter that was now of age to marry, they gaue them nothing to theyr marriage, more then they had gotten with their labour.
And those that will exactly consider this laudable custome, shall finde that it is rather a Law of true Philosophers, then a custome of barbarous people: Since thereby the children were enforced to labour for their liuing, and the parents also were exemted from all manner of couetousnesse or auarice, to heape vp gold and siluer and to enrich themselues.
Numa Pompilius second King of the Romanes, and establisher of their Lawes and decrees, in the law of the seuen Tables which he made, hee left them order onely, which way the Romanes might rule their Commonweale in tranquilitie, and put in no clause nor chapter that they should make their willes, whereby their childrē might inherit their fathers goods. And therefore being asked why hee permitted (in his lawes) euery man to get as much goods as he could, and not to dispose them by will, nor leaue them to their heyres: He aunswered, because wee see, that albeit there are some children that are vnhappy, vicious, and abominable, yet are there few fathers, notwithstanding this, that wil depriue and disinherite them of theyr goods at their death, onely to leaue them to any other heere? and therefore for this cause I haue commanded that all the goods that remaine after the death of the owner of them, shold be giuen to the Common-weale, as sole heyre and successor of them: to the end that if their children should become honest and vertuous, they should then bee distributed to them: if they were wicked and vnhappy, that they should neuer bee owners of them, to hurt, and offende the good.
Macrobius in his booke De somno Scipionis sayth, that there was in the olde time, an old and ancient Law amongst A Law amongst the Tuscans, worthy to be obserued. the Tuscans duely obserued, and kept, and afterwards taken vp of the Romanes, that in euerie place, where soeuer it were (in towne or village) within their territories, on newyeares day, euerie man should present himselfe before the Iudge or Magistrate of the place hee was in, for to giue him account of his manner of life, and how hee maintained himselfe, and in these examinations they did accustome to punish him that liued idely, and with knauery and deceipt maintayned themselues, as Minstrels, Ruffians, Dicers, Carders, Iuglers, Coggers, Foyster, Coseners of men, and filching knaues, with other loytering vagabonds and rogues, that liue of others swet and toyle, without any paine or labour, they take vpon them to deserue that they eate.
I would to God (if it were his will) that this Tuscan Law were obserued of Christians, then we should see how [Page 672] few they be in number, that giue them selues to any faculty or science, or other trade, to liue by their owne trauell and industry: and how many & infinite a number they bee that liue in idle sort.
The diuine Plato in his Timee sayeth, that although an idle man bee more occasion of many troubles and inconueniences in a Common-weale, then a couetous man, yet is it not alwayes greater: for the idle man, and that gladly taketh his ease, doth but desire to haue to eate: but the couetous man doth not only desire to eate but to bee rich and haue money enough.
All the eloquence and pleasaunt speech that the Orators studied in their Orations, the Lawyers in theyr Law, and the famous Philosophers in their doctrine and teaching, was for no other cause, but to admonish and perswade those of the Commonweale, to take very good heed in chusing of their gouernours, that they were not couetous and ambitious, in the administration of their publike affayres.
Laertius reciteth also, that a Rhodian iesting with Eschines the Philosopher, sayde vnto him.
By the immortall Gods, I sweare to thee, O Eschines, that I pitty thee to see thee so poore, to whom, he aunswered, By the same immortall Gods I sweare to thee againe, I haue compassion on thee, to see thee so rich. Sith riches bring but paine and trouble to get them, great care to keepe them, displeasur to spend them, perill to hoorde them, and occasion of great daungers, and inconueniences to defend them: and that that grieueth me most, is, that where thou keepest thy treasure fast lockt vp, there also thy heart is buried.
Surely Eschines words seemed rather spoken of a Christian, then of a Philosopher. In saying, that where a mans treasure is, there is also his hart: For there is no couetous man, but dayly hee thinkes vpon his hidde treasure, but he neuer calleth to mind his sinnes he hath committed.
Comparing therefore those things wee haue spoken, with those thinges wee will speake: I say, that it becommeth the fauoured of Princes to know that it is lesse seemely for them to bee couetous then others: For the greatnesse of their fauour ought not to bee shewed onely in being rich, but also in being noble and worthy.
Plutarch sheweth, that Denys the Siracusian comming one day into the Chamber of the Prince his sonne, and finding great riches of gold and siluer that he had giuen him, he spake very angerly to him and sayde: Thou hast beene farre fitter for a Marchant of Capua, then to be as thou art the Kings sonne of Scicilia, sith thou hast a witte to gather, but not to spend. Which is not fitte nor lawfull for thee, if thou wilt succeede mee after my time in my Kingdome.
And therefore I doe remember thee, that Kingdoms and high estates are not maintained with keeping of riches, but also with giuing and honorably bestowing them well.
And to this purpose also reciteth Plutarch, that Ptholomeus Philodelphus A worthy saying of Plutarch. was demaunded why he was so slowe, and with so great difficulty receyued the seruices of others, and was so liberall, and noble in giuing, and granting fauours: hee aunswered, I will not get reputation amongst the gods, nor good renowne amongst men for beeing rich, but onely I will bee praysed and esteemed for making of others rich, and hauing vnder mee rich subiects.
These words that Ptholome sayde to a friend of his, and those that Denys spake to his sonne: mee thinkes [Page 673] the beloued of the Court should not onely be contented to reade them, but to seeke to keepe them still in minde: sith by them wee may manifestly see, that Riches are euermore profitable for a man that oweth them, and giueth them bountifully: then to haue them, and with couetousnes to hoord and locke them vp in their Coffers: And the fauoured of Princes should not be enuied, for the goods that they can get by their fauour and credit, but onely for the good that thereby they may doe to their friendes and Kinsfolkes.
For they are those that with others goods, make the people slaues vnto them. What greater Nobility can there be in this world, then to make others noble? What greater riches then to make others rich? and what more liberty then to make others free? The glory that the Princes, and those that they esteeme, and haue in their fauour ought to haue, should not consist in getting together much goods, but in winning many seruauntes, and friends.
Great are the priuiledges that the noble and liberall men haue, for their children are obedient vnto them, their neighbours loue them, their friendes doe accompany them, their seruaunts serue them faithfully, straungers visite them, and the enemies they haue dare not speake against them: for althogh they spight at their greatnesse and fauour, yet they dare not once presume to rebuke or reproue their liberality. Phalaris the Agrigentine, Denys the Syracusian, Cateline the Romane, and Iugurth the Numedian: These foure famous tyrants did not maintain their states and royall kingdomes with the vertues they had, but onely by force & ample gifts they gaue:
So that wee may well say, that in the world there is no stone so Philosophicall, nor hand so liberall as Treasure and Riches: sith that in giuing it, good-men become great, and Tirants thereby are supported.
I would those that are Princes Familiars would note wel this word, that is, that great Fauor ioyned with much couetousnesse, is a thing vnpossible to continue long in any. For, if he meane to keepe himselfe in fauour, hee must needes flye Auarice: and if hee will He that will be a Courtyer must shun couetousnes. needes sticke to Auarice, hee must of necessitie loose his Fauour. There is no better meanes for him that seekes the Princes Fauour, to get into fauour, then to serue him diligently, and to trouble him but seldome.
The Kings Officer that serueth him in his house, must endeauour to make the King knowe that hee serueth him more for the Loue hee beareth him, then for any gaine or profit he hopeth at his handes. For, in so doing, the King will not only with his fauour and benefites bestowed on him, treate and handle him as one he loueth, and maketh account of, but also loue him, as if he were his owne sonne. It is most iust, the beloued of the Prince, loue and honour the prince, with all his heart, since hee loueth him, and needeth not.
Those that are beloued, made of, and fauoured in Brinces Courts, should make great account of it, and therefore they should serue willingly. For, the loue we beare to Princes, commeth commonly rather of the necessitie we haue of them, then of our owne proper wills. But the loue of Princes to vs, commeth of meere good will, and not of necessitie.
If any man doe accompany mee, speake to me, and serue me: it is onely in respect that I euer giue him, and for that hee hopeth I will giue him in time to come. And to such a man I might truely say, hee rather flattereth, then loueth me. The esteemed of the Court must note, if it please them that [Page 674] though, the Prince haue others about him, whom he fauoreth and loueth, as well as himselfe, that hee be not therefore offended not displeased a whit. For els all those he seeth accepted into fauour with the prince, hee would make them his enemyes: and because they may auoyde this inconuenience, they must take it in very good part. For albeeit the Prince giue his fauour to one alone, yet hee imparteth his gifts to diuers.
Those that newly begin to rise in the Court, and to doe much: may not euen vpon a sudden shew themselues to be Rich: but onely studie daily to A good caueat for young Courtiors. increase in fauour. For, euery time that the Courtyer doeth assure mee he doth not diminish in fauour, I will bee bound to him he shal neuer be poore.
The way they must obserue in the Court to be great, and to be able to do is this: That is, to visite ofte, to suffer, to present, to perseuer, to be beloued, and to continue in the princes fauour: Which I assure you, is a great secret, and right Alchymine of court, suddenly to rise in fauour, and to be rich, and all in short time.
By this I inferre that the wise man euer desireth to be in fauor, before he couet to be Rich: but the Foole and Ideot desireth first to bee Rich, and then in fauour last.
Not few but many wee haue seene in Princes Courtes, which though Fortune in short time hath exalted to the first degree of Riches, and made them chiefe in fauor, yet within short space after, shee hath made them also loose their Riches, and fall from the top of their pretended honour and dignitie.
It is most certaine that if one haue enemies in the Court, onely for that he is in fauor, he shall haue as many me: if being in fauour, hee be also Rich. For wee are all of so ill a condition, in thinges that touch our particular profire, that all that we see giuē to others, wee thinke suddenly taken away from our selues.
We haue heretofore saide, that it is not fit for the Courtyer, and those that are in fauour, to commaund for his profite all that he list, neyther all those that hee may. And wee now at this present, doe also aduise them to take heede, that they doe not accept and take all that is offered and presented, although they may lawfully doe it. For, if hee be not wise in commaunding, and moderate in taking, a day might come that hee should see himselfe in such extremity, that he should be inforced to call his Friends, not to counsell him, but rather to helpe and succour him.
It is true, that it is a naturall thing for a Courtyer that hath twenty crowns in his purse, to desire suddenly to multiplie The couetous desire of some Courtiers. it to an 100. from a 100. to 200. from 200. to a 1000. from a thousand to 2000. and from 2000, to an hundred thousand.
So that this poore wretched creature is so blinded in couetousnes, that hee knoweth not, nor feeleth not, that as this Auarice continually increaseth and augmenteth in him, so his life daily diminisheth and decreaseth: besides that that euery man mocks and scorns him, that thinketh The true contentation consisteth in commanding of Money, and in the facultie of possessing much riches, For to say truly it is not so, but rather disordinate riches troubleth and grieueth the true contentation of men, and awaketh in them daily a more appetite of Couetousnes.
We haue seen many Courtiers rich and beloued: but none indeede that euer was contented, or wearyed with commaunding, but rather his life should faile him then Couetousnes. Oh how many haue I seene in the Court, whose legges nor feete haue bin able to carry them, nor their bodie strong enough to stand alone, nor their hands able to [Page 675] write, nor their sight hath serued them to see to reade, nor their teeth for to speake, nor their iawes to eate, nor their eares to heare, nor their memory to trauell in any suite or matter, & yet haue not their tongue fayled them to require presents and giftes of the Prince, neyther deepe and fine wit to practise in Court for his most auaile and vantage. So incurable is the disease and plague of auarice, that hee that is sicke of that infirmity, can not bee healed neyther with pouerty, nor yet bee remedied with riches: Since this contagious maladie and apparant daunger is now so commonly knowne, and that it is crepte into Courtiers, and such as are in high fauour and great authoritie by reason of this vile sinne of auarice. I would counsell him rather to apply himselfe to bee well thought of, and esteemed, then to endeauour to haue enough.
Also Queene Semiramis was wife to king Belius, and mother of king Ninus, and although by nature shee was made a woman, yet had shee a heart neuer otherwise but valiant and Noble: For after shee was widdow, shee made her selfe Lord by force of armes of the great India, and conquered all Asia, and in her life time caused a goodly tombe to bee made, where she would lye after her death, and about the which she caused to bee grauen in golden Letters these words.
Many dayes and kinges raignes past before any durst open this Sepulchre, vntill the comming of the great Cyrus, who commaunded it to be opened. And being reported to him by those that had the charge to seeke the treasure, that they had sought The covetousnes of King Cyrus rewarded with deceite to the bottomlesse pit and Worldes end, but treasure they could find none nor any other thing, saue a stone wher in were grauen these words.
Plutarch and also Herodotus which haue both written this history of Semiramis, doe shew and affirme, that Queen Semiramis got great honour by this iest, and King Cyrus great shame and dishonour.
If Courtiers that are rich, thinke and beleeue that for that they haue money inough, and at their will, that therefore they should be farre from all troubles and miseries, they are deceyned: For if the poore soule toyle and hale his body to get him onely that he needeth, much more dooth the rich man torment and burne his heart, till hee be resolued which way to spende that superfluitie he hath. Iesu, what a thing is it to see a rich man, how bee tormenteth himselfe night and day, imagining and deuising with himselfe whether hee shall with the mony that is left, buy leases, milles, or houser, anuities, vines, or cloth, lands, tenemēts or pastures: or some thing in see: or whether he shal enrich his sonne with the thirds or fifts: and after all these vaine thoughts, Gods will is, for to strike him with death suddenly, not onely before he hath determined how hee should lay out or spend this money, but also before he hath made his will.
[Page 684] I haue many times tolde it to my friends, yea, and preached it to them in the Pulpit, and written it also in my bookes, that it is farre greater trouble to spend the goods of this world well, and as they ought to be spent, then it is to get them: For they are gotten with swette, and spent with cares. Hee that hath no more then hee needeth, it is hee that knoweth well how to parte from them, and to spend them: but he that hath aboundance, and more then needfull, doth neuer resolue what hee should doe.
Whereof followeth many times, that those which in his life time were Who knoweth who shall enioy his riches after his death. enemies to him, shall happen to bee heyres after his death of all the goods and money he hath. It is a most sure and certaine custome among mortall men, that commonly those that are rich (while they are aliue) spend more money vainely in thinges they would not, and that they haue no pleasure in, and wherein they would lest lay it out: and after their death they leaue the most part of their inheritance to those whom they loued least: for it hapneth many times that the sonne which hee loueth worst, enheriteth his goods, & that sonne which hee loued best, and made most of, remaineth poore.
Therfore continuing still our matter, I say, that I know not the cause why the fauoured of the Court desire to bee so rich, couetous, and insatiable, sith they alone haue to gette the goods, where afterwardes to spende them, they haue need of the counsell and aduise of many.
Let not those also that are in fauour with the Prince, make too great a shew openly of their riches, but if they haue aboundance, let them keepe it secret: For if their lurking enemies know not what they haue, the worst they can doe, they can but murmur: but if they see it once, they will neuer leaue till they haue accused him.
To see a Courtier builde sumptuous houses, to furnish them with wonderfull and rich hangings, to vse excesse and prodigality in their meates, to haue their cupbordes maruellously decked with cups, and pots of golde, and siluer, to see infinite presents brought into his house, & to be greedy of money, and to haue a great train of seruants to wayte vpon them: All these are things not onely to make thē murmur and repine at, but also when time and place serueth to condemne and accuse them to the Prince. And this were but little to murmur at them and accuse them: so that they did not defame them, and diminish their honour and reputation: For they tell it abroad afterwards, eyther that they are corrupted with presents, or that they doe robbe and steale from the Prince their master.
And therefore I returne once againe to admonish them, and specially the officer of the Court, that they shal not neede, neyther is it requisire they make any ostentation of their riches: if they be wise at least: For besides that euery body will murmur against him, they will not spare to bring it to the Princes cares quickly, so that by misfortune it might happen to him, that the King would doe that with his seruant, that the hunter doth oft with his beasts hee taketh, that many times he cherisheth him, and giueth him meate to eate, not to bring him vp, but to fat and kill him for his owne eating.
CHAP. XV. That the fauoured of the Court shoulde not trust too much to their fauour, and credite they haue, nor to the prosperitie of their life. A worthy Chapter, & full of good doctrine.
WHat reputation Paul the Apostle had amongest the Christians, the like had the great Cato the Iudge, among the Romanes, who in the progression of his life, proceeded so honestly, and in the gouernement of the publike weale was so iust, that hee deserued that this Epitaph should be written vpon his Pallace gate.
Among all the noble and renowmed Romanes, hee onely would neuer suffer statue or Image of his, to bee set vp in the high Capitoll. Whereat diuers maruelling, and imagining diuersly what was his meaning, hee beeing one day in the Senate sayde to them these words openly.
I will they shall seeke the good workes I haue done, by which I did deserue that my Image should be erected in the Capitoll, then to giue thē cause to goe search and enquire what linage I was of, what was my life, with intent to pull downe my Image: For it happeneth many times, that those whom inconstant fortune from a low estate hath raysed vp to high degree and steppe of honour, doe become afterwardes by the same occasion rather defamed, then praysed: for there are many that are reuerenced, & honoured openly, by reason of theyr honour and dignity they haue at this present, of whom they make a iesting stocke afterwards when they see them fall.
Lucan sayeth, that Pompeius would say many times, when he would speake of these worldly things: My friends, I can tell you a true thing, whereby you may know the little occasion wee haue to trust humane felicities. Example you may see in mee, which attained to the Romane Empire, without any hope I had euer to come vnto it: and afterwards also not mistrusting any thing, euen suddenlie it was taken from mee, and I depriued of it. Lucius Seneca beeing banished from Rome, wrote a letter to his mother. Albuina, in which hee did both comfort her, and himselfe, and wrotte thus. O my deare mother Albuina, I neuer in all my life beleeued or trusted vnstabel Fortune, although there haue bin many peaces and leagues made betwixt her and our house: for if at a time the trayteresse consented, that for a space I should bee quiet, and at rest, shee did it not of good will shee had to leaue to pursue me, but for to giue me a more cloaked seuerity: For when shee seeth wee thinke our selues assured, then with al her force and fury shee giueth vs the assault, as if [Page 678] shee came to assault the Enemies Campe: And I tell thee further, yet (good mother) that all the good shee wrought in mee, and the honour shee heaped on mee, and all the faculties and aboundance of riches she broght to my house, hee tolde mee shee gaue them freely, but I alwayes aunswered her, I did accept in way of imprest, & not of gift. Her promises therefore shee offered mee the honour she layd vpon mee, and the riches she gaue me, shee layde them vp in such a corner of my house, that either by day, or by night, she might at her pleasur when shee would take them all from mee, without that shee should trouble at all therefore my iudgement, or that shee should sorrow my heart a whit: And because thou shouldest know how I did esteeme of fortune, I tell thee, that I euer thought it good, neuer to let any thing come within me, [...]or into my heart, but only neere vnto me and so I was contented to esteeme it, and to keepe it vnder good safety, [...] not that I therefore applyed, and gaue all my affection and minde vnto it: I was glad to haue fortune my friend, but if I lost her, I was neuer sorry for her.
Finally, I conclude, that when she came to assault mee, and to robbe my house, she might well conuay all that was to put in the Arke, but not that shee could euer carry away the least sigh of my heart. They say that K. Philip father of Alexander the Great, beeing aduertised of three great victories The speech of Philip K. of Macedonie. hapned in sundry places to his Army, kneeled down on both his knees, and holding vp his hands to the heauens, sayd, O cruel fortune, O merciful gods I beseech you most humbly, that after so great a glory and victory as this, you haue hitherto giuen mee: you will moderate your correction, and punishment, which after this I looke for that you will graunt mee, that you punish me with pity, and not with vtter destruction and ruine. And yet he added this furder to his words.
Not without cause I Conjure thee Oh Fortune, and doe beseeche you immortall Gods, that you wil punish me fauourably, but not to vndoe me: because I am assured, that ouermuch felicitie and prosperitie of this life, is no more but a prediction and presage of a great calamitie, and an yll insuing happe.
Truely all the Examples aboue recited are worthie to be noted, and to be kept alwayes before the eyes of our mindes, sith by them wee come to know, that in the prosperitie of this our thrawled life, there is litle to hope for, and much to be afrayd of.
It is true wee are very fraile by nature, since we are borne fraile, we liue fraile, and daylie wee fall into a thousand fraylties: but yet notwithstanding we are not so frayle, but wee may if we will resist vice.
And all this commeth onely, because one sort of people followeth an other, but one reason seldome followeth another.
If wee fall, if we stumble, if wee be sicke, if we breake our face, are we sure (that seruing as we do the world) that the world will recure and remedie vs?
No sure, it is not so. For the remedy the world is wont to giue to our troubles, is euer notwithstanding greater trouble then the first: so that they are like vnto Searing-yrons, that burne the flesh, and heale not the wound.
For the world is full of guile and deceyte, and subtill to deceiue, but very slowe to giue vs remedy. And this we see plainly. For if it perswade vs to reuenge any iniury receyued, it doeth it onely in reuenging of that, to make vs receiue a thousand other iniuries.
And if sometimes wee thinke wee receiue some comfort of the world, of our paines and troubles of the body, if [Page 679] afterwardes ouer-lodeth our mindes, with a Sea of thoughts and cogitations. So that this accursed and flattering world maketh vs belieue, & perswadeth vs the right and perfite way, and in the end we are cast vnwares into the Nets of all wickednes, priuily layde to ensnare vs.
How great soeuer a man bee in fauor with the king, how noble of bloud how fine of wit, and how warie soeuer hee be, let euery man bee assured that practiseth in the world, he shall in the ende be deceyued by him. For, hee costeth vs very deere, and wee sell our selues to him good cheape.
I tolde you but little, to tell you we solde our selues good cheape, for I should haue saide better, in saying we haue giuen out selues in preye wholly to him, without receiuing any other recompence. And in deede they are very fewe, and rare, that haue any reward of him: and infinit are they that serue him, without any other recompence, more then an ydle, foolish, and vaine-hope.
Oh Trayterous Worlde, in how short a time doest thou receyue vs! and afterwardes with a glimce of an Eye suddenly doest put vs from thee: thou gladdest, and makest vs sorrowfull, The vncertaintie of this worlds felicitie. thou callest vs to honour and abasest vs, thou punishest vs, and doest vs a thousand pleasures.
And finally I say, thou doest make vs so vile, and poysonest vs with thy vile labourers, that without thee, wee are yet euer with thee: and that that grieues vs worst of all is, that hauing the Thiefe in the house, we goe out of the house, to giue him place, and make him owner. When the world knoweth one once that is prowd and presumptuous, he procureth him honour: to another that is couetous, riches: to another that is a glutton, good meats: to an other that is carnall, the commoditie of womē: to another that is idle, quyet and ease: and all this doth the Trayterous Worlde, to the ende that after, as Fish, whom hee hath fed, hee may laye the net of sinne vpon vs, to catch vs in.
If we would resist the first temptations the World offreth vs, it is impossible hee durst so many times assaulte vs. For to say truely by our small and weake resistance, increaseth his ouergreat audacitie.
I would these Louers of this worlde would but tell me a little, what [...] or what Hope they can hope of him, Why they should suffer so manie e [...] cumbers, broyles, and troubles as they doe?
To thinke the Worlde can giue vs perpetuall life, it is a mockery, and extreame madnes to hope of it. For we see when life is most deare to vs, and that we are lothest to leaue the world, then arriueth Death (in an vnhappie houre) to swallow vs vp, & to depriue vs of all this our worldly felicitie.
To hope that the World will giue vs assured Myrth: euen this is also a madnes. For the dayes excepted, we must lament, and the houres allottod out to complaine, alas, we shal see but a small surplus of Time left, to laughe and be mertie.
I can say no more, but exhort euery man to looke well about him, what he doth, and that he be aduised what hee thinketh. For when we thinke and belieue wee haue made peace with Fortune, euen then is she in battel against vs. And I doe assuredly belieue, that that I now prepare my selfe to speake euen presently, shall be read of manie, but obserued of few: and that is, that I haue seene those come out of their owne proper houses, mourning and lamenting that had spent and consumed all their time in laughing and making good cheere, & seruing this miserable world: which is but only a giuer of all euils, a ruine of the good, a heap of sinne, a tyraunt of vertues, a traitor of [Page 680] peace and warre, a sweet water of errors, a riuer of vices, a persecutor of the vertuous, a combe of lyes, a deuiser of nouelties, a graue of the ignorant, a cloake of the wicked, an ouen of lechery: and finally, a Charibdis, where all good and noble hearts doe perish, and a Sylla, where all Noble desires and thoughts are cast away together.
For it is most certaine, that this Worlding that is not content with this World, and that leaueth his first estate, and that taketh vpon him a new manner of life, and chaungeth from house to house, and from Countrey to Countrey: hee shall neuer notwithstanding content himselfe, nor quiet his mind.
And the cause hereof is, that if a Worlding depart out of his house, neuer to come againe into it, there are yet at hand immediatly other ten licentious persons, that do but watch to enter into his house. Speaking more particularly, I say, that in the Court of Princes they account them happy and fortunate, that be in fauour with the Prince, that haue great affairs in Court, that bee rich and of power: that be serued and honoured of euerie man, and that take place & goe before euery man: So that it may be said, that the common people doe not cal those fortunate, that deserue to be fortunat: but onely those that haue enough. But the auncient Philosophers were not of this mind, and much lesse are the wise & vertuous men at this day: For we see that in the Court of Princes many lacke fauor, rather then life, others lacke both fauour, and life together, and others not onely their life and fauour, but also their goods and faculties. So that, all that their fauour and credite haue giuen them in many yeares, and by sundry griefes and troubles, they come afterwardes to lose them euen vpon a suddain, and in short time: I graunt notwithstanding that it is a great honour, profite, and furtherance, for the Courtier to bee in his Princes fauour, but neuerthelesse hee cannot deny me, but that it is a dangerous thing also: For naturally a great familiarity, bringeth also a great enuy with it, sith the beloued of the Princes is commonly euill willed of the Common weale.
And that which is most daungerous is, that to obtain the fauor of his Prince, hee must so behaue himselfe: that his seruice must bee more rare, better, and exquisite, then all others: and otherwise, to fall in disgrace, and to make the Prince forget all the good seruice he hath don him his whole life time, hee need but the least displeasure Examples of many Fauourites of Princes that haue come to vntimely ends. and fault he can commit.
Eusenides was maruellously beloued with Ptolomey, who after Fortune had exalted and brought him to honour, and that he was grown to great wealth, sayde one day to Cuspides the Philosopher these words.
O my friend Cuspides, tell mee I pray thee of thy faith, is there any cause in mee to be sadde, sith Fortune, hath placed me in so great authoritie, and honour, as she can deuise to doe, and that the King Ptolomey my Lorde, hath now now no more to giue me: he hath already beene so bountifull to me?
To whom the Philosopher aunswered, saying: O Eusenides, if thou wert a Philosopher, as thou art a beloued seruant, thou wouldest tell mee an other tale, then that thou tellest mee now: For although King Ptolomey hath no more to giue mee, knowest thou not that spightfull fortune hath power to take away from thee many things? For the noble heart feeleth more griefe, and displeasure, to come downe one stayre, or steppe, then to clime a hundred.
Not many dayes after these words [Page 681] passed betweene Cuspides and Eusenides, it happened that one day King Ptolomey found Eusenides talking with a Lemman or Curtesan of his, which hee loued dearely, whereat hee was so much offended, that hee made her straight drinke a cuppe of poyson, and caused him to bee hanged before his owne gates.
The Emperour Seuerus had one in so great fauour and credit, which was called Plautius, and he loued him so extreamely, and trusted him so much, that he neuer read letter, but Plautius must reade it, and hee neuer graunted commission or licence to any man, but it must passe vnder Plautius Seale: neither did hee euer graunt anything, but at the request of Plautius, nor did make warres or peace, without the counsell and aduise of Plautius.
The matter fell out so, that Plautius entring one night into the Emperours Chamber with a priuy coate, his ill happe was such, that a little of his breast before was open, whereby was spyed the male: which Bahhian seeing, being the Emperours eldest Sonne, sayde vnto him these sharpe words.
Tell me Plautius, Doe those that are beloued of Princes vse to come into theyr Bed-Chambers at these howers, Armed with yron-coates? I sweare vnto thee by the immortall Gods, and so let them preserue me in the succession of the Empyre: That since thou commest with yron, thou shalt also dye with yron: Which presently tooke place. For, before hee went out of the Chamber, they strake off his head.
The Emperour Commodus (that was sonne of the good Emperour Marcus Aurelius) had a Seruant called Cleander: a wise and graue man, olde, and very pollitike: but withall, a little couetous.
This Cleander was oft times requested of the Praetorian company, that is to say of the whole band of souldiers, that he would commaund they might be payd their pay due vnto them: and to perswade him the better to pay it: they shewed him a bill, signed from the Emperour, to which he answered: That the Emperour had nothing to do in the matter. For, althogh he were lord of Rome, yet had he not to deale in the affayres of the Common-weale.
These discurteous and vnseemely wordes related to the Emperour Comodus, and perceyuing the small obedience, and respect of duty that Cleander shewed to him, hee commaunded forthwith he should be slaine to his great shame, and that all his goods should be confiscate.
Alcimenides was a great renowned King among the Greekes, as Plutarch writeth of him, and hee fauoured one Pannonius entirely well, to whom only hee did not commit his person, his trust, but also the whole affaires and doings of the common weale, and hee might dispose of the goods of the king, at his will and pleasure, without leaue or licence. So that all the Subiects found, they had more benefite in seruing of Pannonius then in pleasing of the King.
Therefore the King, and the beloued Pannonius playing at the ball together, they came to contend vpon a Chase, and the one sayde, it was thus: the other sayde it was contrary: and as they were in this contention, the king commaunded presently those of his guarde, that in the very place of the Chace where Pannonius denyed, they should strike off his head.
Constantius the Emperour also had one whome hee liked very well, and made much of, called Hortentius, which might well bee counted a Princes darling, for hee did not onely rule the affayres of the common weale, of the pallace, of warres, his goods, and person of the Emperour: but also hee [Page 682] was euer placed aboue all the Ambassadours at his table. And when the Emperour went in progresse, or any other iourney, he euer had him to his bedfellow.
Thus things being in this state, I tell you, it happened that one day a Page giuing the Emperour drinke in a glasse, the glass, by mishappe fell out of the Pages hand, and brake in pieces, whereat the Emperour was not a little displeased and offended. And euen in this euill and vnhappy howre, came Hortensius to the king to present him certaine billes, to the signe of hasty dispatch, which was a very vnapt time chosen (and the Emperour yet contented to signe it, could neyther the first nor the second time, because the penne was ill fauouredly made, & the inke so thicke, that it woulde not write, which made the king so angry, that euen presently for anger, he commaunded that Hortensius head should be strucken off.
But to the end wee may come to the knowledge of many things in few words, I will shew you how Alexander the Great slew in his choller his deere accounted Cratherus, and Pirrhus king of the Epirotes, Fabatus his Secretary.
The Emperour Bitillion his greatest friend Cincinnatus Domitian the Emperour, Rufus of his Chamber. Adrian the Emperour his onely fauoured Ampromae. D [...]cclesian his friende Patritius, whom he loued as himselfe, and alwayes called him friend and companion.
Diadumeus, Phamphilion his great Treasurer: for whose death hee was so sorrowfull, that hee would haue made himselfe a way, because he caused him to be so cruelly slaine.
All these aboue named, and infinit others also, some were Masters, some Lordes, some kings, and som of great authority and fauour about Princes, by whose tragicall histories and examples wee may plainely see, that they did not onely loose their goods, fauor, and credit, but also vpon very light occasions were put to death by sword: Therefore mortall men should put no trust in worldly things, sith that of little occasion they become soone great and of much lesse, they suddenly fall, and come to worse estate then before.
And therefore king Demetrius asking one day Euripides the Philosopher, A worthy saying of Euripides the Philosopher. what hee thought of humane debility, and of the shortnesse of this life, answered.
Mee thinkes, O king Demetrius, that there is nothing certaine in this vnstable life: sith all men liuing, and all things also that serue them, endure dayly some clipse. And hereunto replyed suddenly Demetrius and sayde:
O my good Euripides, thou hadst sayde better, that all things vegitiue, and sensitiue, and each other liuing thing doth not onely feele the Eclipses force, and change from day to day, but from houre to houre, and minute to minute. Meaning king Demetrius, by these words hee spake, that there is nothing so stable in this world, bee it of what state or condition it will bee, but in the twinckling of an eye, is ready to runne into a thousand dangers and perils: and albeit we bee all subiect (of what state or degree so euer wee bee) to sundry and diuers thrals, and mishaps, yet none so neere neighbours to them, as those that are in highest authority, and greatest fauor with Princes: For there are many that shootes to hitte downe the white of their fauour, but few that being down, will once put it vp againe, and restore it to his place,
For to liue a contented life, a man had neede to want nothing, neyther to haue any occasion to trouble him: But the things that trouble vs in this [Page 683] vale of misery, being so many, and of such aboundance, and those thinges contrarily so few, and rare to come by, that wee neede and want: wee may iustly account this life wofull and miserable aboue all others: For sure farre greater are the grieues and displeasures wee receyue for one onely thing wee want, then the pleasures are great wee haue for a hundred others, whereof we haue aboundance. Besides that, the familiars of Princes cannot thinke themselues so mighty and fortunate, that any man may presume to call them blessed or happie.
For if some serue and honor them others there are that persecute them: and if in their houses they haue that flatter them, and make much of them: there want not in the Court others that murmur at them, and speake ill of them.
And if they haue cause somtimes to reioyce that they are in fauour: so haue they likewise continuall trouble and feare that they shall fall, and bee put out of fauour: And if they glory to haue great treasure, they sorrow also to haue enemies.
And if the seruices and company they haue, doe delight them, the continuall businesse they haue do vex them: So that wee may say of them, as of plastering houses, which are neuer so fayre, but they become blacke with some spotte in time, and wormes and other vermine doe eate and wast them.
If there bee none that dare once admonish these great men in authority, and tell them their faultes by wordes of mouth: yet I will take vpon mee to doe it with my writing, and say: That they speake nothing but that it is noted: their steps they treade are seene: euery morsell of meate they eate is marked, they are accused for the pleasures they take, and all thinges that they haue are obserued: All the pleasures that is done them is registred, and all ill that they know by them is published.
And finally, I conclude, that the The fauourites of the Court compared [...]o a game at Tables. fauoured of Princes, are a game at tables, whereat euery man playeth: nor with Cardes, nor Dice, but only with serpents tongue.
And therefore I haue sayde it, and once againe I returne to say: that all those that are accepted of Princes must liue continually very wisely, and aduisedly in all their doings: for it is true, and too true, that euery mans tongue runnes of them, and much more if they had time and opportunity, like as they defame them with their tongues, so would they offende them with their hands.
Wee doe not speake this so much that they should looke to defend their life: but to foresee that they may preserue their honour and goods from perill, and to giue them by this precept a good occasion to looke about them.
For to put them in disgrace with the King, all the dayes of their Life, (to their vtter vndoing and ouerthrowe, the King neede but onely for to giue eare and attention to his enemies.
CHAP. XVI. The Author admonisheth those that are in fauour, and great with the Prince, that they take heede of the deceipts of the world, and learne to liue, and dye honourably, and that they leaue the Court before age ouertake them,
WHen king Aldericke kept Seuerine the Romane Consull Prisoner, otherwise named Boetius: that Consull complained much of fortune, saying, alas Fortune, why hast thou forsaken mee in my age, since thou diddest fauour mee so much in my youth, and that I had serued thee so many yeares, why hast thou left me A Diseourse betwixt Fortune, & the Consul Seuerius. to the hands of mine enemies.
To which complaints Fortune made answere thus. Thou art vnthankeful to mee, O Seuerius, sith I haue vsed my thinges with thee in such manner, as I neuer vsed the like with any other Romane. And that this is true, I tell thee. Consider, O Seuerius, that I made thee whole, and not sicke: a man and no woman, of excellent witte and vnderstanding, and not grosse and rude, rich and not poore, wise and not foolish, free and not bound, a Senator, and no Plebeian, noble and valiant, and not cowardly, a Romane, and no Barbarian, or stranger borne: in great, and meane estate, a graue man, and no light nor vaine person, fortunate, and not vnlucky, worthy of fame, and not obliuion: to conclude I say, I gaue thee such part in the common weale, that thou haddest good cause to haue pittie of all others, and all others cause to haue spight, and enuie at thee.
Againe replyed Seuerius to this answere and saide. Oh cruell and spightfull Fortune, how Liberall thou art in the things thou speakest, and resolute in the thinges thou disposest: sith alwayes thou doest what thou wilt, and seldome that thou oughtest?
And thou knowest there is no such mishappe, as to remember a man hath once beene Rich, and Fortunate in his Time: and to see himselfe now broght to extreame miserie. Heare Fortune thou oughtst to know it, if thou knowest it not, that hee that neuer was rich, scant knoweth his pouertie.
But alas for pittie, he that was rich, and had once all pleasures and ease, doth sorrow much for the present extreamitie, and bewayleth the fore-passed felicitie. And I tell thee also, and thou oughtest to belieue me, that wee repute them more happy whom thou neuer exaltest nor gauest honor vnto: then we do those whom thou hast called to high Honours, and afterwardes hast ouer-throwne them, and brought them lower, and in worser state then before. And as for mee, Oh Fortune, I tell thee truely, I thinke no man fortunate, but him that neuer knew what good-fortune meant.
And this was the discourse betwixt Fortune, and the Consull Seuerius. By which wee may perceiue and comprehend, that truly none may be thought vnfortunate and miserable, but such as haue been before in great honour and reputation: and he cannot be thoght abased of his state, or countenaunce, if he were not before in prosperitie, and fauoured of fortune. So that we may well say, That neuer no man in this world was so free, as he that neuer suffered Fortune to enter into his gates.
I haue been desirous to tell you of these things, because that such as are in fauor and credit with Princes, shold not reckon too much of their fauour: neyther that those that are not in fauour [Page 685] with them, should be sorie for it a whit.
For the great authoritie and credite that a man hath by the Court, is in this mortall life in the ende nothing else then as a little worm in an apple, a wizell in the corne, and a magot in pease: which without, seem very good and within they are all rotten & eaten.
Princes authoritie aboue all others is most supream: for they are not subiect to the Censors and Iudges, to reproue them of their wordes and sayings: neither to magistrates, to whom they should render vp any accounts of their doings, whereof proceedes, that as they haue free-will to loue, so haue they a free libertie to hate, and absolute power to punish.
Therefore those that are in fauor in Court, and they that shall read this How suddenly the fauours of princes change. wrytings of mine, must well consider what we meane by all those things we haue spoken: whereby they shall easily know, that Princes are no lesse apte to hate him to day, they loued yesterday: then to loue him to morrowe, whom they hated the other day.
The first and chiefest point the Courtyer ought to obserue, is to feare GOD, aboue all: and to follow the profession and life of a good Christian.
For in the ende they liue in Court with more safety, hauing a good and pure conscience, then with all the great credite and fauour they can haue.
And therfore let euery Courtyer belieue me, as well in fauor as out of faour: That it is the best & surest way to obtaine the goods of this world, as also for the preseruation of their soules, to esteeme and make account of holie Scriptures & Gods commandements And if hee doe otherwise, it shall happen many times vnto him that in the dispatch of his weyghtiest affaires, and needefull businessos, euen when hee shall thinke his matters brought to a prosperous ende, and that it is without all doubt of dispatch: then steps in crooked fortune with her wonted poison against him, and either makes him in a manner beginne his suite new againe, or at least ouerthrow it quite: For there are in Princes Courts many times certaine suites that haue a good and better end then looked for: and contrarily many others that are at the point of dispatching, and yet by sinister accident clean ouerthrowne, and succeeding contrary to their assured expectation.
And yet notwithstanding it seemeth to the suiter, that the cause hereof commeth, eyther through the soliciters negligence and default, and litle care to follow it, or else through the malice and ill will of the fauoured of the Court, that tooke vpon him the suite: and yet neyther the one, nor the other was cause of the disorder: but onely the diuine prouidence of God, to admonish vs that in all our actions and doings it little preuayleth vs to moue the King or his Officers in all our matters, if we doe not deserue at Gods hands to obtaine it. And therefore sayde the diuine Plato in his Timeon, that those that haue honour and prosperity in this life, haue as A worthie saying of Plato, much neede of good counsell, as the poore afflicted creatures haue of help and remedy. And surely, it was wisely and profoundly spoken of him: For as neede and misery in this wretched life bringeth men to despayre: so likewise we see prosperity induce men to forget themselues and their state. And that which I haue hitherto spoken of, and that I hope yet to speak, none can vnderstand nor conceiue, but such as once in their time, in their Nauigation had a fortunate and prosperous Winde: And afterwardes turning contrary, euen at the Shore side haue cast them on Rockes and vtterly perished them.
To the end that those in reading my [Page 686] wrytings, may yet lament and mourne for pittie: where the others can but onely reade, and goe no further.
If we compare and put together the Rich with the poore, the sorrowfull with the merry, the Fortunate with the vnfortunate: the fauoured, with the banished, the vertuous and noble, with the vicious and defamed: wee shall finde without doubt the number of those farre greater, that could rise againe beeing downe, and had taken a fall: then those that keepe themselues in the authoritie and fauour, that Fortune had brought them to.
I haue not saide it a fewe times, but euery moment I would returne to say it againe, that this Trayterous worlde in all his doings is so deceytfull, and Fortune in all that shee promiseth so doubtful, that they make them belieue whom they make Rich, beloued, and raise to high estate, that they doe it but to honour them: and afterwards contrarily they spinne a thousand deceipts and trumperyes, to make them sooner fall to the ground.
Surely I haue seene but fewe, and I remember I haue read of none, vnto whom Fortune euer shewed herselfe so benigne and curteous, that euer put a man in his chiefest toppe of prosperitie, and fauour, but in fewe dayes after, she tooke his life from him, or at least in the ende of his iourney, shee made him runne into some secret disgrace or mishappe.
And therefore I would that the Courtyer that obtayneth fauour in the Court, and Riches in the Commonwealth: that he should reckon and esteeme them as lent him, but not giuen him: And that he should so gouerne the things of fortune, as hee would that man whom hee trusted not at all. A worthy saving of Seneca.
For, as Seneca saith: No man is afflicted with Fortune, But hee onely that trusteth to her, without feare or suspect at all of her. For Courtyers, and those that are in great fauor and authority ought to know that like as in the deepest seas soonest perish the shippes, and as on the highest mountains the Sunne hath alwayes least force and power: and as in the greenest boughs is soonest hidden the Fowlers little net, to catch the silly Byrdes: And as with the fullest bayts of meate the Fish are soonest taken, & that with great force the wind doth blow on highest trees, and as the most prowd and stately buildings, the Earth-quake doth most hurt and soonest ouerthrow them: Euen so by this I meane, that Fortune neuer stroue to throw downe anie, but such as she had made great in honour and fauour.
For, I doe not take it for great good lacke (though all things succede to be fauoured of the Court, better then hee looked for) nor to see them brought by their friends to great estate and honour, For albeeit fortune for a time dissemble with him, it is not for that she hath forgoten him, but afterwards to giue him a greater punishment.
Those that will maruell at that I will speake euen now, it proceedes of nothing else, but wanting wit, and capacitie, to vnderstand it.
There is no greater sicknes in this world, then to be in health: No greater pouertie, then neuer to haue neede of any thing. And there is no greater temptation, then to be neuer tempted Nor there can be no greater sadnesse, then to be alwayes merry: Nor greater daunger, then neuer to be in danger. For many times it so happeneth, that where a man thinketh to passe ouer a dangerous floud safe enough, his horse falleth ouer head and eares, and drowneth his Master, or hee escapeth hardly.
Socrates being one day demaunded A true saying of Socrates. which was the most sure and certaine thing of this life? Aunswered thus: There is nothing more certain in this life: then to account all things vncertaine hee [Page 687] hath: nor among Riches any greater, then to haue life and health: But if the life bee doubtfull and vnquyet, what suretie or certaintie may bee found in it? Surely none.
King Agesilaus beeing requested of certaine of his Grecian captains, to go see the Olympiade, in mount Olympus: where all the philosophers did assemble to dispute, and where all the Rich men of the countrey came to buy and sell any thing, he answered them.
If in mount Olympus they solde and exchanged sorrow for mirth, sicknesse for health, honour for infamy, and life for death. I would not onely goe to see it, but I would also spend all that I The speech of king Agesilaus. am worth, and that I haue: But since the buyer is mortall, and the thing also hee buyeth condemned to death, I will buye nothing in this life, since I can not carrie it with mee, into my graue.
Yet is there another deceipt, which the poore Courtyers fall into daylie: and that is, that in liuing many yeares, they think and assuredly belieue in the ende to light of a time, when they hope to haue ease and rest, which is a mockery to thinke it, and extreame madnesse to hope for it. For if their years grow by ounce, and ounce, their sorrowes and troubles encrease by pounds.
Who can denie, but that milke that is kept many dayes doth corrupt and becommeth sower and sharpe? Yea, the garments that are now very olde, and haue beene long worne (without that euer moth doth touch it) doth in the ende also become rags and dust.
By this therefore I doe inferre, that if it be a most certain thing for young men to dye quickly, then much more should olde men be assured that they haue no long time to liue.
And there are many in the Courts of Princes also, that finde themselues so laden with sinnes and wickednesse, that they thinke assuredly, that in changing their age, time, and fortune, they shall not onely leaue their vices, but shall be discharged also of manie grieues and troubles. Which we see afterwardes happen contrary to them.
For there is no way so plaine in this world, but there is some ascent or discent for vs to goe vp to the toppe, or some Riuer for vs to passe ouer: or some terrible mountaine to feare, or some crooked ill-fauoured way, to loose vs in, or some Caue or hole to fall into.
Those also that thinke certainely that the Sunne cannot lose his light, nor that the Moone can be eclipsed, nor that the starres may be darkened, and that the earth shall not cease to bring forth, the seas to flow, the water to runne, the fire to burne, and Winter to be cold, let them also bee assured, that man cannot bee excused to suffer and abide much. For sure it is impossible hee should passe one day without some trouble or sinister hap of Fortune.
And the greatest trumpery and deceite that Courtiers for the most part are abused in, is, that the more they waxe in yeares, the more they enter dayly into greater affayres and businesse, with a vaine hope and assurance they haue to dispatch them, and bring them to such end, as they list or desire. But afterwards when they come The follie of olde Courtiers. to looke into their matters, it is the wil of God, and their deserts to procure it, that the poore old men find (when they thinke to goe home to their houses) that they see death approach neare them, and they afterwardes are carried to be buried in their graues.
O how many are there in Court, that become aged men, by long seruing in Court, with a vaine hope afterwards in their age to depart from the Court, and to repose their aged yeares in their owne houses, in [Page 688] quyet and tranquilitie, which abuseth them very much.
So that they may bee called Christians in name, and thoughtes, but right worldlings, and Courtyers in doings. And therefore many times I reproued diuers olde Courtyers my Friendes, for that they did not leaue the Court when they might haue left it with honour, and commoditie: tellling them it was more then time now they should depart from the Courte, seeing that Age and grauitie had stollen vpon them.
Who could not tell how to aunswere me, nor what to say, more then they would within a shorte time, goe home to their houses, with deliberation and intent to take their ease at home, for the better health of their persons, which they had not till then: and so to seclude them from all doings, saue onely in the morning when hee riseth, to goe to the Church and serue GOD: and from thence to go vnto the Hospitalls, to visite the sicke and diseased, to seeke out the poore Orphanes and widowes amongst his Neighbours, and to make peace between neighbour and neighbour, and to relieue the poore.
And albeit they haue tolde me this tale many a time and ofte, yet I neuer sawe any of them put it in execution with good will.
And I saw once an honorable and rich Courtyer, who was so olde, that for very Age hee had neuer a blacke haire on his head, nor any Teeth in The foolish opinion of an olde Courtier. his mouth, neyther any Children, or Sonnes or Daughters to inherite his good: who notwithstanding was of so foolish and phantasticall opinion, (brought to that kinde of madnesse by his sinnes) that he sware vnto me, that for the discharge of his Conscience onely hee would neuer leaue, or giue vp his Office hee had in Courte, to chaunge that seruile trade and course of life, for to obtaine his quyet rest at home. Thinking assuredly, that enjoying rest at home, in his owne house, hee might easily be damned, and abyding the paines and seruice of Court, hee belieued vndoubtedly hee should be saued.
Surely wee may aptly say, that this olde Courtyer was more then a Dotard, and that hee had marred the call of his conscience: since hee belieued that it was a charge of Conscience to depart the court.
The ambition to do much, and the couetousnesse to haue much, maketh the miserable Courtyers belieue that they haue yet Time ynough to liue, and to repent themselues, when they will.
So that in the Court, thinking to liue two yeares onely in their Age good men: they liue fiftie, and three score yeares, naughty and wicked persons.
Plutarch in his Apothegmes sayth that Eudonius that was Captain of the Greekes, seeing Zenocrates reading A worthy saying of Plutarch. one day in the vniuersitie of Athens, hee being not of the age of eightie fiue yeares, asked what that old man was and it was answered him, that it was one of the Philosophers of Greece, who followed vertue and serched to know wherein true Philosophie consisted: Whereupon he answered, If Xenocrates the Philosopher tell mee, that hee being now eightie fiue yeares old, goeth to seek vertue in this age, I would thou shouldest also tell me what time hee should haue left him to bee vertuous.
And hee sayde moreouer, in those yeares that this Philosopher is of, it were more reason we should see him, doe vertuous things then at this age to goe and seeke it.
Truely we may say the very like of our new Courtier, that Eudonius sayde of Xenocrates the Philosopher, [Page 689] the which if hee did looke for other threescore yeares, or threescore and ten to be good, what time should remaine for him to proue and shew that goodnesse.
It is no maruell at all, that the olde Courtiers forget their Natiue Countrey and bringing vp, their Fathers that begate them, their friendes that shewed them fauour, and the seruants that serued them: but at that I doe not onely wonder at them, but also it giueth mee cause to suspect them, is, that I see they forget themselues. So that they neuer know nor consider that they haue to doe, till they come afterwardes to be, that they would not be.
If the Courtiers which in Princes Courts haue beene rich, noble, and in authority would counsell with me, or at least beleeue my writing, they shold depart from thence in time, to haue a long time to consider before of death, least death vnawares, and suddenly came to take execution of their liues.
O happy, and thrice happy may we call the esteemed Courtier, whom God hath giuen so much witte and knowledge to, that of himselfe hee do depart from the Court, before fortune A good Caueat for Courtiers. hath once touched him with dishonour, or laid her cruell handes vpon him: For I neuer saw Courtier, but in the end did complain of the Court and of their ill life that they ledde in Court. And yet did I neuer know any person that would leaue it for any scruple of consciēce he had to remain there, but peraduenture if any did depart from the court, it was for some of these respects, or altogether, that is to say: Eyther that his fauour and credite diminished, or that his money fayled him, or that some hath done him wrong in the court, or that hee was driuen from the court, or that he was denyed fauour, or that his side & faction he helde with, had a fall, or for that hee was sicke, for to gette his health, hee went into the Countrey.
So that they may say, hee rather went angrie and displeased with himselfe, then hee did to lament his sins: If you aske priuately euery Courtier, you shall finde none, but will say he is discontented with the Court, eyther because he is poore, or afflicted, enuied, or ill willed, or out of fauour, and hee will sweare and resweare againe, that he desireth nothing more in the World, then to be dismissed of this Courtiers trauell and painefull Life: But if afterwards perchance a little winde of fauour be but stirring in the Entrey of his chamber dore, it will sodenly blow away all the good and former thoughts from his mind. And yet that, which makes mee to wonder more at these vnconstant Courtiers, and vnstable braines, is, that I see many build goodly stately houses in their countrey, and yet they neyther dwell in them, nor keepe hospitality there: They graffe and set trees, plant fruites, and make good Gardens and Orchards, and yet neuer goe to enioye them: they purchase great Landes and possessions, and neuer goe to see them.
And they haue offices and dignities giuen them in their Countryes, but they neuer goe for to exercise them.
There they haue their friends and parents, and yet they neuer goe for to talke with them. So they had rather be slaues and drudges in the court, then lords & rulers in their own countrey: we may iustly say that many courtiers are poore in riches, strangers in their owne houses, and Pilgrimes in their Countrey, and banished from all their kindreds.
So that if wee see the most part of these Courtiers, backbite, murmure [Page 690] complaine, and abhorre these vices they see daily committed in Court.
I dare assure you, that this discontentation and dislyking proceeds not only of those vices and errors then see committed, as of the spight and enuie they haue daylie, to see their Enemyes, growe in fauour and credite with the Prince. For they passe little of the vices of Court, so they may be in fauour as others are.
Plutarch in his book De exilio, sheweth, that there was a Law amongst the Thebanes, that after a man was fiftie yeares of age, if he fell sicke, he should not bee holpen with Physitians. For, they say, that after a man is once arriued vnto that age, he should desire to liue no longer, but rather to hasten to his iourneys ende,
By these examples wee may know that infancie is, till vii. yeares: Childhood to xiiii. yeares: Youth to xxv. yeares: manhood till xl. and Age to three-score-yeares. But once passed three-score, me thinks it is rather time to make cleane the nettes, and to content thēselues with the Fish they haue till now, then to go about to put their nets in order againe to fish any more. I grant that in the Courts of princes all may be saued: & yet no man can deny mee, but that in princes Courts there are mo occasions to be damned then saued.
For, as Cato the Censor saith: The apt occasions bring men a desire to do yll, though they be good of themselues. And although some do take vpon them and determine to leade a godly and holie life, or that they shew themselus' great hypocrites: yet am I assured notwithstanding that they cannot keepe their tongue frō murmuring, nor their hart from enuying. And the cause hereof proceedeth, for that ther are very few that follow the Court long but onely to enter into credit, and afterwards to vaxe rich, and growe in great authoritie.
Which cannot bee without bearing a little secret hate and enuy against those that doe passe them in this fauour and authority; and without, suspect and feare of others, which in [...] are their equals and companions. It were a good counsell for those that haue [...] the Court or Princes till they be [...] old and gray headed, that they should determine and liue the rest of their yeares as good Christians, and not to passe them as Courtiers: so that though they haue giuen the world a meale, yet they should in the end giue the brain to Iesus Christ. I know euery man desireth to liue in Princes Courts, and yet they promise they will not dye in Court. And since it is so, mee thinkes it is a great folly and presumption for such men to desire to liue long in such state, where they would not dye for all the golde in the world.
I haue liued in the Court manie yeares, and at this present I haue forsaken it quite: wherefore I dare boldly say, that if once a man come to enioy a qui life, and reposed rest, I am assured he would for euer hate and dislike to be a Courtier longer.
But like as these senseles Courtiers [...] remember not the Life for to come, but onely account of theyr vaine and Courtly Life present, reputing that the most blessed and happie of any other.
So God seeing theyr folly and their fond addicted minde to the vanitie of Court to plague them, and scourge them there withall, withtheir owne rodde, doth great them no other nor better rest, then that they onely enioy in Princes Courts, and so feedes them with their owne humour. And therefore it is very truely sayde. That rest and contentation neuer endeth into a [...] house.
[Page 691] O you worthy and Noble Courtiers, O you blessed and fauoured Courtiers, I will remember you, yea and againe remember, that you presume not to cut or pull off the winges of Time, since you neyther shall haue time nor meane to plucke one feather from him: much lesse the least knowledge how to doe it.
And therefore it is sayde, Ill cutteth the knife if the edge bee broken, and ill can hee gnaw bones that lacketh his teeth.
And if hee seeme good vnto you and me also, That to day it is Time to gather the fruit of the vine of our youth, Let vs go now againe to seeke it about by the meanes of our amendment.
And if the Pipe or Caske wherein wee shoulde put our Wine bee fusty, with the malignity and peruersnesse of our wicked doings. Let vs season them with new and better Wine of good and holy desires. And now to conclude, if to sequester themselues from Court, it be a wholesome Counsell for Courtiers: much more wholesome and necessarie it is for such as beare sway and reputation about the Prince. For other Courtiers doe dayly liue in hope to enlarge theyr countenance and credite, and to grow in fauour and authority: But these Darlinges and Beloued of Princes are continually afrade to fall, and vtterly to bee put out of fauour.
CHAP. XVII. Of the continency of fauoured Courtiers, and how they ought to shunne the company and conuersation of vnhonest women, and to bee carefull quickly to dispatch all such as sue vnto them.
TItus Liuius, and Plutarch writeth, that the Romanes had in In what veneration the ancients held them that were continent. such veneration those men that liued chaste, and those women also that professed virgins Life, that they erected statues of them in the Senate house, carrying thē thorough the City in triumphant chariots, recommending themselues to their deuout prayers, and giuing them great gifts and presents: and finally adored them as gods: and this was their reason, in that they honoured them as gods: for that they being of flesh, and liuing in flesh, did leaue to vse the workes and instinct of the flesh, which they helde a thing more diuine then humane.
Filostratus sayeth, that Appoloneus Thianeus was borne without any pain or griefe to his mother in all her travell. And that the gods spake to him in his eare, that hee raysed the deade to life, healed the sicke, knew the thoughts of men, diuined of things to come, how hee was serued with Princes, honoured of the people, and followed of all the Philosophers: & yet they did not make so great a wonder of all these things spoken of him, as they did for that hee was neuer married, and moreouer neuer detected with the knowledge of any woman liuing, much lesse suspected.
[Page 692] Whilest Carthage was enuironed with siege on each side, a Virgine of Numidia taken prisoner, was presented to Scipio, and she was very fayre: which Scipio notwithstanding, would not onely not deflower, but set her at liberty, and married her very honourably.
Which act of his was more apprised of the Roman writers, then was his conquest of Numedia, the restoring of Rome her liberty, the destruction of Carthage, the succour and reliefe giuen to Asia, and the enobling of his Common wealth: For in all these enterprises hee still fought against others, but in the effects of the flesh, hee fought against himselfe. And therefore hee must needes be maruellous wise, and of good iudgement, that can subdue the desires and motions of the flesh: For wee doe as much couet to follow these carnall desires, as wee are apt to our meate when wee are hungry. Cruell and bitter are the assaultes of the flesh to the spirite, and wonderful is the paine the Spirite abideth, to resist the motions of the same, which by no meanes can be ouercome, but by eschewing the occasions thereof. As in brideling the desires, punishing the flesh, liuing with spare dyet, increasing learning, giuing himselfe to tears and altogether shutting the gates of our desires.
O if this vice of the flesh came of aboundance of heate, or rage of bloud, we might soon remedy it with letting our selues bloud: If it were any sicknesse of the heart, it should be cured by interiour medicines: If of the liuer, wee would refresh it with ointments.
If of Melancholy humour, wee would wash away al the Opilations. If of choler, wee would procure easie purges: But alas, it is a disease so farre from pitty, that it misliketh wee should call for Physitians, and cannot abide wee should offer it any remedy.
It cannot bee denyed, but that ciuill warre is most grieuous and dangerous in a Common-wealth: But much more perillous is that at home, betwixt the husband and the wife: but most ieoperdious of all is, that a man hath within himselfe: For wee cannot reckon any other our enemy, but our owne desires.
I remember I saw once written in a Courties house these wordes, which truely deserued to bee written in golden Letters: and the words were these:
Surely, hee that wrote this for his word, wee thinke hee was no foole, nor euill christian, sith hee neither sought for money, nor by sleight of witte procured to deceiue or beguile neither he called his friendes to helpe him to withstand his enemies, but only craued remedy against his vnhonest and vain desires. And vndoubtedly he had reason: for a man may easily absent himselfe, it is an impossible thing. And therfore me thinks it is a thing more to be lamented then written, to see that a multitude of corporall enemies, cannot vanuquish vs, and yet notwithstanding when wee are alone, and thinke nothing of it, this only vice of the flesh, dooth not alone make vs stumble, but fal downe on the groūd: for neither to becom religious, a frier, nor to dwell in churches, nor to be shut vp in cloysters, to sequester [Page 693] our selues from the world, nor yet to chaunge state and condition: For all this I say, I see none of al these things helpe vs mortall men, to defende vs from this vice and sinne. But the further we seeke to flye from it, the more daunger we finde to fall into it. And albeit to auoyd other vices and sinnes it shall suffice vs to bee admonished: yet against that alone of the flesh, it behoueth vs to bee armed. For there is no sinne in the world, but there are meanes for men to auoyd it: This only excepted of the flesh, wherewith all wee are ouercome, and taken Prisonners. And to proue this true it is apparant thus.
Where raigneth Pride, but amongst the Potentates? where Enuie but amongst equalls? Anger, but amongst the impacient? Gluttony, but amongst gourmands? auarice, but amongst the Rich? slouth, but amongst the ydle? And yet for all these, the sinne of the Flesh, generally reigneth The sinnes of the flesh goeth beyond all other. in all men.
And therefore, for not resisting this abhominable vice, we haue seen kings lose their kingdoms, Noblemen their Lands and possessions: the marryed wiues their auowd faith: the religious nunnes, their professed virginitie: So that wee may compare this sinne, to the nature and condition of the venemous serpent, which being aliue stings vs, and after hee is dead, offendeth vs with his noysome stinke.
Examples by Dauid, who for all his wisedome could not preuaile against this sinne: nor Salomon, for al his great knowledge: nor Absolon for all his diuine beautie: nor Sampson, with his mighty force: which notwithstāding the great Fame they had, for their renowmed vertues: yet through this only defect they lost all: accompanying with harlots & licentious women. Into which shameful felowship fell also Holofernes, Haniball, Ptholomeus, Pyr-Pirrhus, Inlius Caesar, Augustus, Marcus Antonius, Seuerus, and Theodorius, and many other great Princes, with these aboue recited: the most part of the which we haue seene depriued of their Crownes, and afterwards themselues haue come (to their vtter shame and dishonour, on their knces to yeelde themselues to the mercy of these their infamed louers, crauing pardon, and forgiuenesse.
Many graue Writers of the Grecians say, that the Ambassadours of Lidia comming one day into the chamber of Hercules, vpon a suddaine to speake with him, they found him lying in his Curtesans lappe, she pulling his rings off on his fingers, hee dressed on his head with her womanly attire: and she in exchnnge on hers bedect with his royall crowne.
They write also of Denis the Syracusian, that albeit of nature hee was more cruell then the wild beast, yet he became in the end so tractable, and pleasant, by meanes of a Curtezan his friend called Mirta, that she only did confirme all the prouisions and depeches of the affayres of the Weale publike, and he onely did but ordaine and appoint them. And if the Histories written of the Gothes deceyne vs not, wee finde that Antenaricus the famous king of the Gothes, after he had triumphed of Italy, and that hee had made himselfe Lord of all Europe, hee became so farre in loue with a Louer of his called Pincia: the whilest shee combed his head, hee made cleane her slippers.
Also Themistocles, the most famous Captaine of the Greekes, was so enamoured of a woman hee had taken in the Warres of Epirns, that shee beeing afterwardes very sicke: when shee purged her selfe, hee would also bee purged with her: If shee were let bloud, hee would also bee let bloud: and yet that that is worst to bee liked, [Page 694] is, that hee washed his face with the bloud that came out of her Arme: so that they might truly say, though shee were his prisoner, yet hee was also her slaue and subiect.
When King Demetrius had taken Rhodes, there was broght to him a faire gentlewomen of the Cittie, which he made his friend in loue: and this loue betwixt them, in time grewe so great, that she shewing her selfe vpon a time to be angry with Demetrius, and refusing to sit neare him at the Table, and also to lye with him: Demetrius vtterly forgetting himselfe, and his royall estate, did not onely on his knees pray her to pardon him, but also imbracing her, conueighed her in his armes into his chamber.
Myronides the Grecian, albeit hee had made subiect to him the kingdom of Boetia, yet hee was notwithstanding made subiect with the beautie of Numidia his louer. Hee enflamed thus with loue of her, & she likewise strucken with couetous desire of his goods, in fine they agreed, that he shold giue her all the spoyle he had wonne in the warres of Boetia: and that she should let him lye with her in hir house onely one night.
Hanniball made warres xvii. yeares with the Romaines, and in all that time he was neuer vanquished, till hee was ouercome with the Loue of a young mayden in the cittie of Capua: which proued a most bitter loue to him: sith thereby it happened, that whereas hee had so many yeares kept in subiection all Italie: hee now was made a subiect at home in his owne countrey.
Plutarch in his booke De Republica, writeth: That Phalaris the Tyraunt would neuer graunt a man any thing that he desired: neyther euer denyed Plutark de Repub. any thing that a dissolute Woman requested.
No small, but great disorder happened to the Common-weale of Rome by the occasion of the Emperour Caligula, who gaue but 6000. Sexterces onely to repayre the Walls of Rome: and gaue otherwise for furring one one gowne alone of his Lemmans, a 10000. sexterces.
By all these examples aboue recited, wee may easily vnderstand, how daungerous a thing it is for the Courtier to haue friendshippe and acquaintance with women of so vile a facultie: For the woman is of like quality, that a knot tyed of corde is, which is easily tyed of sundry knots, and very hardly afterwards to bee vndone againe.
Heretofore wee haue besought Courtiers, and the fauoured of Princes, that they should not bee so liberall in commaunding: and now once againe wee pray them to beware of fornication and adultery; for albeeit this sinne of the flesh be not the greatest in fault, yet it is the most daungerous in fame.
There is no King, Prelate, nor knight in this World so vicious, and dishonest It is impossible that the Courtier that liueth disordinately, should continue in fāuour with the Prince. of life, but would be glad to haue honest, vertuous, and well conditioned seruants, so that it is impossible therefore for the fauoured Courtier, liuing dishonestlie, to continue any long time in fauour with his Prince: For wee haue seene many in Princes Courts, and Common Weales also, that haue lost their honour, fauour, & riches, not for any pride they shewed in themselues, nor for enuy that they had, nor for any treasure nor riches that they robbed, nor for any euil words that they should speake, neither for any treason that they committed, but onely through the euill fame that went of them for haunting the company of naughty women: for women be of the right nature of Hedgehogs, which without seeing or knowing what they haue in their heart, do notwithstanding drawe bloude of vs [Page 695] with their prickes.
And let not any man deceyue himselfe, hoping that if hee did commit a fault through the flesh, that it shal be kept from the Princes cares, or that it shall not bee blazed abroad in the Court. For this sinne is of such a qualitie, that though it may bee hidden within Curtaines: yet it cannot bee kept silent with tongues.
How wise and slie soeuer a woman bee, yet at all times when shee giueth eare vnto mens requests, euen at that prosent shee resolueth to impart the whole with some friend of hers. For these women doe glory more, to bee the friend of a Courtier, then to bee a true wife vnto their husbands. I haue my selfe seene in Princes Courtes many [...], very humble, courteous pittifull, patient, charitable, wise, deuout, and otherwise maruellous honest, and yet amongst all these I neuer found any one secret. And therefore that a man will haue published to the World, let him [...] tell it a woman in [...]e at secret.
[...] should come to [...] that wee [...] women carry [...] heads a forrest of hayres, a coyre, a hood, gimm [...] hanging at their eares, partlets vpon their shoulders, smockes on their bodies, petti [...], kertles, hose, clokes, [...], hatts, chaynes, braslets, rings, p [...]umes offethers in their hands, and many other trinkets not named: al which they carry lightly vpon them and thinke it no burthen: and yet they cannot abide in no case to keepe or carry one secret in their brest. Alas, what pitty is it to see those affected Courtiers, what meanes they vse to win a Ladies fauour, what pleasaunt purposes and discourse they put forth vnto them, what bitter signes they let fall, what seruice they offer them, what Iewels they giue them, what castles in the ayre they promise them, what sorrowes they fayne, and what lyes they make them belieue: and these silly women (by nature proud and foolish) are with a few gifts ouercome, & with a fewe flattering wordes beguiled.
Now let this Courtier and his Lady continue this mutuall friendship betweene them, one, two, three foure, or fiue yeares, though perhappes not fully these yeares compleate neyther many monethes also, and you shall see in the end vndoubtedly a maruellous breach, and hate betwixt them.
For this amorous Courtier, that so dearely seemed to loue his Lady, will now make court a fresh to others, to dislike that heretofore he loued, and flie from her whom erst hee followed, abhorring that once hee delighted in, misliking the taste of those meats that once were sweet and pleasant to him: and cannot abide her face now, whose Image before hee had engrauen in his minde.
So if he before had spent 3. yeares seruice in making her his Mistresse, he spendeth now 6. other yeares in the Courtiers must beware of dishonest women. forgotting of her.
And therefore these Noble Courtiers and Beloued of Princes must beware they make not these young and dishonest loues common in euery place: For the sweete and fragrant Rose which they seeke to gather, continueth scantly one houre: but the prickes and plagues of the pearsing thorne, resteth hidden in their flesh, their whole life time after.
A man erreth in nothing more in this World, then in taking to his charge a dishonest woman: For if hee will bring her with him to the Court, shee shall shame him, put him to an vnreasonable charge, besides the burthen of his conscience.
And if afterwards hee would put her away from him, she wil not depart for any thing: and if he would compel [Page 696] her to it, ere shee departe it will be all the Court ouer: so what things haue past betwixt them two alone in secret, shall afterwardes be knowne of euery man abroade. And therefore we haue not causelesse tolde you, that it must needs be a maruellous expence to the Courtyer to bring his louer with him, in the Court. For he must alwayes be at the charges to keepe a page, maide, or gentlewoman, to wayte vpon her.
He must content the Hostesse of his house to lodge her secretly, please the Marshall to seeme not to knowe of it, the Harbinger that hee prepare him a good lodging, the page that hee be diligent, and at her hand: and her selfe also must haue to liue withall. So that the expence and charge hee shall be at with her, must needs farre exceede all the benefites and commodity he hath by the Court.
And besides that, hee may assure himselfe, that this their leawde and fonde loue cannot long endure, neyther can care also of her selfe be kept secret. For, eyther his Hostesse that lodged her, or the Bawde that procureth theyr meetings, or the page that bringeth commendations and messages betwixt thē, or the neighbors that see him frequent the house, or the seruant that shall suspect him, or the mother that solde her vnto him, in the ende will bewray their secret practise and friendship. Whereof springeth afterwards disdaine, and from disdain, to defame each other: So that of extreame Louers they were first, they afterwards become mortall Enemyes:
And therefore the Wiuell is not so hurtfull to the Corne, nor the locust to the Oates, nor the wormes to the vines, nor maggots to the fruit, nor the moths to the garments, as the woman is to a man, that once was his friende, and now become his enemie. For like as in time of her loue, she robbed and spoyled him of all his goods: so likewise in the time of her hatred, she deuoureth all his good fame and reputation.
But what shall wee say of the man that contenteth not himselfe with one friend alone, but like an vnsatiable leacher taketh vpon him to keep another. Truly I cannot tell what to say of this man, but that it had beene better for him he had neuer been borne, then to haue kept company with such vile and common women. For he shall neuer appease the first, neyther with anger, nor flattery: nor humble her with presents, nor can expell her hatred with promises, neyther please her with cherishing of her, and much lesse shall ouercome her with threats.
The Ocean sea is not so daungerous, nor the sword of the tyrant so cruell, neyther lightning so suddaine nor Earthquakes so horrible and fearefull, nor Serpents so venemous as a What dāger followeth the courtier that keepeth leawd women. Harlot, when she doth but suspect her friend loueth another beside her selfe: for shee ceaseth not to defame him, and to follow the other, to raise a slander amongst her neighbours, to complaine to his friends, to bewray the matter to the Iustice, to quarrell with Officers, alwayes to haue spyes for him in euery place, as if hee were one of her mortall enemies.
Oh would to GOD the Courtyer would esteeme as much of his conscience, as his Louer maketh account of his person: happie were hee. For, I dare assure him, if he know it not, that shee spyeth out all the places hee goeth to, and counteth euery morsell of meate he eateth, and becommeth iealous of all that hee doeth, and of all those whose companie hee frequenteth: yea, she deuiseth and imagineth all that hee thinketh. So that he that seeketh a cruell reuenge of his enemy, cannot doe better then perswade and induce him to loue one of these wellconditioned gentle-women.
[Page 697] Now let him thinke that he hath great warres, and by his euill hap hath made her his enemie, which heretofore hee so entirely loued: For any man that esteemeth his honour and reputation, doth rather feare the euill tongue of such a woman, then the sword of his enemy. For an honest man to striue, and contend with a woman of such quality, is euē as much as if hee would take vpon him to wash an asses head. Therefore hee may not seeme to make account of those iniuries done him, or euill words shee hath spoken of him. For women naturally desire to enioy the person they loue, without let or interruption of any, and to pursue to the death, those they hate. I would wish therefore the fauoured of Princes, and such as haue office and dignity in the court that they beware they incurre not into such like errors: For it is not fitting that men of honour, and such as are great about the Prince, should seeme to haue more liberty in vice then any other, neyther for any respect ought the beloued of the Prince to dare to keepe company, much lesse to haue friendshippe with any such common and defamed women, sith the least euill that can come to them, they cannot be auoided.
But at the least hee must charge his conscience, trouble his friends, waste his goods, consume his person, and lose his good fame, ioining withall these also, his concubine to bee his mortall enemy: For there is no woman liuing that hath any measure in louing, nor end in hating. Oh how warily ought all men to liue, and specially we that are in the Court of Princes for many women (vnder the colour of their authority and office) go ofttimes to seeke them in their Chambers, not onely as humble suiters, to solicite their causes, but also liberally to offer them their persons, and so by colour to conclude their practises and deuises: So that the decision and cō clusion of proces which they faine to solicite, shall not goe with him that demaunds there goods of them, but rather with him that desires but their persons to spoyle them of theyr honour.
Now the Princes officers must seeke to be pure, and cleane from al these practises of these commō strumpets, much more from those that are suters to them, and haue matters before them. For they should highly offend God, and commit great treason to the king, if they should sende those Women from them that sued vnto them rather dishonored and defamed, then honestly dispatched of their businesse.
And therefore he bindeth himselfe to a maruellous inconuenience, that falleth in loue with a woman suter: for euen from that instant hee hath receiued of her the sweet delights of loue, euen at the present hee bindeth himself to dispatch her quickly, and to end all her suites, and not without great griefe I speake these words.
There are many women that come to the Court of Princes, to make vnreasonable and dishonest sutes, which in the end, notwithstanding obtaine their desire: And not for any right or reason they haue to it: saue onely they haue obtained it through the fauour and credite they haue wonne of the fauoured Courtier, or of one of his beloued: So as wee see it happen many times, that the vniust furnication, made her suit iust and reasonable. I should lye and doe my selfe wrong me thinkes, if I should passe ouer with silence a thing that hapned in the Emperours Court touching this matter: in the which I went one day to one of the princes chiefe officers, and best beloued of him, to solicit a matter of importāce which an hostes of mine [Page 698] should haue before him.
And so this fauoured Courtier, and great Officer after hee had hearde of men the whole discourse of the matter, for full resolution of the same, hee asked mee, if shee were yong and fayre, and I aunswered him that shee was reasonable fayre, and of good fauour.
Well then (sayth he) bid her come to mee, and I will doe the best I can to dispatch her matter with speede, for I will assure you of this, that there neuer came fayre woman to my handes, but shee had her businesse quickly dispatcht at my hands.
I haue knowne also many women in the Court so dishonest, that not contented to follow their owne matters, would also deale with others affayres, and gaine in feliciting theyr causes, so that they with theyr fine wordes and franke offer of their persons obtayned that, which many times to men of honour, and great authority was denyed.
Therefore these great Officers & fauoured of Princes ought to haue great respect, not onely in the conuersation they haue with these Women: but also in the honest order they ought to obserue in hearing their causes. And that to bee done in such sort, that whatsoeuer they say vnto them may bee secret, prouided also the place where they speake with them, bee open for other Suiters in like case.
CHAP. XVIII. That the Nobles and Beloued of Princes, exceede not in superfluous fare, and that they bee not too sumptuous in their meates. A notable Chapter for those that vse too much delicacy and superfluitie.
THe greatest care & regard that Nature laide vpon her selfe was that men could not liue without sustinance: so that so long as wee see a man eate (yea if it were a thousande yeares) wee might bee bolde to say, that hee is certainely aliue. And hee hath not alone layde this burden vpon men, but on bruite beasts also: For wee see by experience, that some feedeth on the grasse in the fieldes some liues in the ayre, eating flyes, others vpon the wormes in carring, others with that they finde vnder the water: And finally, each beast liueth of other and afterwardes the wormes feede of vs all. And not onely reasonable men and brute beasts liue by eating, but the trees are nourished thereby; and wee see it thus, that they in stead of meate, receiue into them for nutriture the heate of the Sunne, the temperature of the ayre, the moisture of the earth, any dewe of heauen: so that the sustenance for men is called meate, and that of plants and trees increase. This beeing true therefore that wee haue spoken, we must needes confesse, that to liue wee must eate: and yet withall, wee must vnderstand that the sin of gluttony consisteth not in that that wee eate for necessity, but only in that [Page 699] that is eaten with a disordinate appetite and desire. And sure now a dayes men vse not to eate to content nature, but to please their licorous and dainty mouthes.
Hee that giueth him selfe ouer to the desire of the throate, doth not onely offend his stomacke, and distemper his body, but hurteth also his conscience: for all gluttons and drunkards are the children, or the brothers of sinne.
And I speake but little to say, that the mouth and sinne are c [...]sin Germanes together: for by their effects and operations me thinketh them so knit and combined together, as the Father and the Sonne: Sith burning Leacherie acknowledgeth none other for her mother, but onely the infatiable and gurmand throate. And the diuersity of meates is but a continuall and importunate awaking of dishonest thoughts. Doe we not reade of S. Hierome, that albeit hee remained in the wildernesse, burned of the Sunne his face dryed vp, and wrinkled, bare footed, and also bare headed, clothed with sackcloth, his body scourged with bitter stripes, watching in the night, and fasting and hungering in the day, continually exercising his pen and his heart in contemplation, and yet for all this grieuous penance, him selfe confessed, that in his sleepe, hee dreamed and thought he was among the Curtezans of Rome, and S. Paul the Apostle, who was a man of rare & exquisite knowledge, and deserued to see the very secretes of Paradise, neuer here to fore seene, trauelling in his vocation more then any other of the Apostles, did not he get his liuing with The painefull trauel and industry of Saint Paul. his owne hands: and also went a foote preaching through all the world, bringing infinite barbarous people to the faith of Christ, being beaten in the day time by others, for that hee was a Christian, and in the night time hee beat himselfe for that he was a sinner, punishing the flesh, to make it subiect to the spirit. And yet neuerthelesse he layth of himselfe, that he coulde not defend himselfe from dishonest thoughts which did euer let him to preach and pray with a quiet minde: Saint Austen reciteth of himselfe in his booke De consessionibus, that all the while he inhabited in the deserts, hee eate little, wrote much, prayed oft, & sharpely chastised his body, with continuall fasts and grieuous disciplines: But yet perceyuing that notwithstanding all this, his dishonest thoughtes suppressed his holy desires, he began to crye with a lowde voyce thorough the deserts, and rocky hils, saying. O Lord my God, thou commaundest me to be chast, but this fraile and accursed flesh can neuer keepe it. And therefore I humbly beseech thee first to indue mee with thy grace, to doe that thou wilt haue me, and then commaund me what shall please thee: otherwise I shall neuer doe it.
If therefore these glorious Saints with their continual fasts and contemplations, and extreame punishing of their bodies, could not defend themselues from the burning motion of the flesh, how shal we beleeue that a company of drunkards and gluttons, can doe it, which neuer linne bibbing and eating. Wee may bee assured that the lesse we pamper and feede our bodies with delicacy and idlenes, the morewe shall haue them obedient and subiect to our willes: For though wee see the fire neuer so great and flaming, yet it quickely wasteth, and is brought to ashes, if wee leaue for to put more wood vnto it.
Excesse is not onely vnlawfull for the body, but it is also an occasion of a thousand diseases both to the body & soule: For to say the truth, wee haue seene more rich men die through excesse, then poore men of necessity.
[Page 700] And in mine opinion, mee thinkes the sinne of Gluttonie need not to be otherwise punished by diuine iustice, seeing that of it selfe it bringeth pennaunce ynough. And to proue this true: Let vs but require these gluttons to tell vs vpon their Oathes, how they finde themselues in temper being full paunched? and they will confesse vnto vs, that they are worse at ease then if they had fasted.
That their mouth is drye, their bodie heauie, and yll-disposed, that their head aketh, their stomack is colde, and that Eyes are sleepie, and their bellyes full, but that yet they desire to drinke still. And therefore Dyogenes Cinicus, deryding the Rhodians, sayde these words:
Oh you drunken and gluttonous Rhodians: Tell mee I beseech you, What occasion mooues you to go to the Church, to pray to the Gods, to giue you health, when at al times keeping sober diet, you may keepe it with you? And moreouer hee sayde vnto them also: and if you wil be ruled by my counsell, I will tell yee, you neede not goe to the Churches, to beseech the gods to graunt you health, but only to pray vnto them, to pardon you your sinnes and iniquities you daylie commit. Also Socrates the Phylosopher was wont to say to his disciples, of the vniuersitie of Athens:
Remember Oh you Athenians, that in the well-gouerned pollicies, men liue not to eat, to glut the bodie: but A worthy speech of Socrates the phylosopher. doe onely eate to liue, and sustaine the bodie.
O graue saying of the good philosopher! and I would to GOD that euery good Christian would carry this lesson in minde. For, if we would but let Nature alone, and giue her libertie, and disposition, of her selfe, she is so honest, and of such temperance, that she wil not leaue to eate that that shal suffice her, neyther will also trouble vs with that that is superfluous.
Yet an other foule offence bringeth this vice of Gluttonie, and that is, That many put thēselues in seruice to waite on others: not so much for the Ordinary fare that is commonly vsed in their house, as for the desire they haue to fill their bellies with dainty and superfluous meates. And in especiall, when they knowe they make any marriages or feasts for their Friends, then giue double attendance, not contented alone with that themselues haue eaten, but further in remembrance of the worthie feast, committeth to the custody of his trusty Cater (his great Hose) perhappes a two or three dayes store of those rare and daintie dyshes, which I am ashamed to write, and much more ought they to be ashamed to do it. For that man that professeth to be a man, ought to inforce himselfe neuer to engage his libertie for that, his sensuall appetite inciteth him to: but only for that reason binds him to.
Aristippus the Philosopher washing lettice one day with his owne handes for his supper, by chance Plautus passing by that way, and seeing him said, If thou wouldest haue serued king Dionisius, wee should not haue seene thee haue eaten Lettises, as thou dost now. Aristippus answered him againe. O Plautus if thou wert content to eate of these Lettises that I eate, thou shouldest not serue so great a Tyrant as thou dost.
The excesse of meates is greater in these dayes, both in quantity, and in dressing of them, then in times past, For in that golden age, which the philosophers neuer cease to bewayle, men had none other houses but naturall caues in the ground, and apparrelled onely with the leaues of trees, the bare ground for their shooes, their handes seruing them in the stead of Cuppes to drinke in: they dranke Water for Wine, eate rootes for [Page 701] bread, and fruites for flesh: and finally, for their bed they made the earth, and for their couering, the skie, beeing lodged alwayes at the signe of the Starre.
When the diuine Plato returned out of Cicill into Greece, hee sayde one day in his Colledge: I doe aduertise you (my Disciples, that I am returned A worthy saying of the diuine Plato. out of Cicil maruellously troubled, and this is by reason of a Monster I sawe there. And being asked, what monster it was, he tolde them it was Dionisius the tyrant, who is not contented with one meale a day, but I saw him suppe many times in the night.
O diuine Plato, if thou wert aliue as thou art dead, and present with vs in this our pestilent age, as thou werte then in that golden: how many shouldest thou see, that doe not onely dine and sup well, but before dinner breake their fast with delicate meates and wines, & banket after dinner and supper also before they goe to bed. So wee may say, though Plato saw then but one Tyrant suppe, hee might see now euery body both dine and suppe, and scant one that contenteth him with one meale a day, in which the brute beasts are more moderate, then reasonable men. Sith we see that they eate but so much as satisfieth them: and are not contented to eate inough yea till they be full, but more then nature will beare. And brute beasts haue not also such diuersity of meates, as men haue, neyther seruants to wait on them, beds to lye in, wine to drinke houses to put their heads in, money to spende, nor Physitions to purge them as men haue. And yet for all these commodities, wee see men the most part of their time sicke.
And by these things recited, we may perceyue, that there is nothing preserueth so much the health of man as labour, and nothing consumeth sooner then rest.
And therefore Plato in his time once spake a notable sentence, and worthy to be had in minde, and that is this, That in that City where there are Another sentence of Plato. many Physitions, it must needs follow of necessitie, that the Inhabitāts there of, are vicious, and riotous persons. And truly we haue good cause to carry this saying away: sith wee see that Physitions commonly enter not into poore mens houses, that trauell and exercise their body dayly: but contrarily into the rich and wealthy mens houses, which liue continually idely, and at ease.
I remember I knew once a Gentleman (a kinsman of mine, and my very friend) which hauing taken physicke, I came to see how he did, supposing hee had beene sicke, and demaunding of him the cause of his purgation: he tolde mee, hee tooke it not for any sicknesse hee had, but onely to make him haue a better appetite against hee went to the feast, which should be two or three daies after.
And within sixe dayes after I returned again to see him, and I found him in his bedde very sicke, not for that he had fasted too much, but that hee had inglutted him selfe with the variety of meates hee did eate at the feast.
So it happened, that when hee purged himselfe once onely to haue better stomacke to eate, hee needed afterwards a dozen Purgations for to discharge his loaden stomacke of that great surfet hee had taken at the feast, with extreame eating: And for the foure howres hee was at the Table where this Feast was, hee was lodged afterwardes in his Chamber, for two monethes to pay vsury for that hee had taken, and yet it was the greate grace and mercy of GOD hee escaped with Life: For if that it bee ill to sinne, It is farre worse to seeke & procure occasions to sinne.
[Page 702] And therefore by consequent, the sin of Gluttonie is not onely dangerous for the conscience, hurtfull to the health of the body, and a displeasing of God: but it is also a worm that eateth, and in fine consumeth wholy the goods and faculties of him that vseth it. Besides that, these gurmands receiue not so much pleasure in the eating of these dainty morsels, as they do afterwards griefe and displeasure to heate the great accounts of their stewards, of their excessiue expences. It is a sweet delight to bee fed daylie with daintie dishes, but a sowre sauce to those delicate mouthes, to put his hand so oft to the purse. Which I speake not without cause, sith that as wee feele great pleasure and felicitie in those meats that enter into our stomackes: so doe we afterwards thinke that they plucke out of our heart the money that payeth for these knackes. I remember I saw written in an Inne in Catalogia these words:
You that hoast here, must say when you sit downe to your meate: Salue regina, Yea and when you are eating, vitae dulcedo: yea and when you reckon with the hoste: Ad te suspiramus: yea and when you come to pay him, Gementes, & flentes,
Now if I would goe about to describe by parcels the order and maner of our feasts and banquets, newly inuented by our owne Nation, there would rather appeare matter to you, to lament and bewayle, then to write. And it had beene better by way of speech to haue inuented diuers fashiōs of tables, formes and stooles, to sit on, then such diuersity of meates to set vpon the Tables, as wee doe vse now a dayes. And therefore by good reason did Licurgus king of Lacedemonia, ordaine and command that no stranger [...]. comming out of a strange Countrey into his, should be so hardy to bring in any new customes, vpon paine that if it were knowne, he should be straite banished out of the Countrey, and if he did vse and practise it, he should be put to death. I will tell you no lye, I saw once serued in at a feast 42. sorts and kindes of meates in seuerall dishes. In an other feast of diuers sortes of the fish called Tuny. And in an other feast being flesh day. I saw diuers fishes broyled with larde. And at an other feast where I saw no other meat but Troutes, and Lamperies of diuers kinds of dressing. And at an other feast where I saw onely vi. persons agree together to drinke each of them three pottles of wine a peece, with this condition further, that they should bee 6. houres at the table, and he that dranke not out his part, should pay for the whole feast.
I saw also an other feast, where they prepared three seuerall Tables for the bidden guests, the one boorde serued after the Spanish manner, the other after the Italian, and the thirde serued after the fashion of Flanders: And to euery table there was serued 22. sorts of meates. I saw also at an other feast such kinds of meates eaten, as are wont to bee seene, but not eaten, as a horse rosted, a cat in gely, little lysers with hote broth, frogges fryed, and diuers other sorts of meats which I saw them eat, but I neuer knew what they were till they were eaten. And for Gods sake what is he that shall reade our writings, and see that is commonly eaten in feastes now a dayes, that it will not in a manner breake his heart, and water his plantes.
The onely Spices that haue beene brought out of Calicut, and the manner of furnishing of our boordes, brought out of Fraunce, hath destroied our Nation vtterly. For in the old time they had no other kinds of Spices in Spaine but Saffron, Comin, Garlicke and Onions, and when one friend inuited an other, they had but [Page 703] a peece of beefe, and a peece of veale, and no more: and it was a rare and dainty matter to adde to a Henne: Oh mishaps of worldly creatures, you embrace not now the time that was: for now if hee bee an Officer, or popular person of any like condition, and that hee inuite his friend or neighbor, hee will not for shame set before him lesse then vi. or vij. seuerall dishes, though hee sell his cloke for it, or fare the worse one whole weeke after, for that one supper or dinner.
Good Lord, it is a wonder to see what sturre there is in that mans house that maketh a dinner or supper. Two or three dayes before, you shall see such resort of persons, such hurly burly, such flying this way, such sending that way, some occupyed in telling the Cookes how many sorts of meats they will haue, other send out to prouide a Cater to buy their meate, and to hier seruants to wayte on them, and other poore folks to looke to the dressing vp of the house, brawling and fighting with their seruants, commaunding their maides to looke to the Butterie, to rubbe the tables and stooles, and to see all thinges set in their order, as fitte as may bee, and to taste this kinde of Wine, and that kind of wine: so that I would to God they would (for the health of theyr soules) but imploy halfe this care and paines they take in preparing one dinner, to make cleane their consciences and to confesse themselues vnto Almighty God.
I would faine know, after all these great feastes, what there remayneth more, then as I suppose, the Master of the house is troubled, the Stewards and Caters wearied, the poore cookes broyled in the fire, the house all foule, and yet that is worst of al, somtimes the master of the feast commeth short of a peece of plate that is stollen.
So that hee cannot chuse but bee sorry for the great charges hee hath beene at, besides the losse of his plate and vessell stollen, and the rest of his implements of house marred, and in a manner spoyled. And peraduenture also the inuited not satisfied, nor contented, but rather will laugh him to scorne for his cost, and murmur at him behind his backe.
Marcus Tullius Cicero was once bidden to supper of a couetous Romane, a Citizen borne, whose supper agreede with his auarice: So the next day it chanced this couetous Citizen to meete with Cicero, and hee asked him how hee did with his Supper: very well, sayde Cicero, for it was a good Supper, that it shall serue me yet for all this day. Meaning to let him vnderstand by these words, that his Supper was so miserable and hee lest with such an appetite, as hee should dine the next day with a better stomacke at home.
The Author continueth his purpose
IT is now more then time wee doe bring you aparant proofes The Author continueth his speech concerning the abuse of feasts. (as well by Scriptures, as prophane Authors) that there was neuer made feast nor banquet, but the Diuell was euer lightly a guest, by whose presence alwayes happeneth some mischiefe. The first banquet that euer was made in the World, was that the Diuell made to Adam and Eue, with the fruite of terrestriall Paradise: after which followed a disobeying of Gods commā dement, the losse that Adam had of his innocency, and a suddaine shame and [Page 706] perpetual reproch to our mother Eue: Mans nature presently brought to all sinne and vice. So that wee may well say, they eat the fruit, that set our teeth an edge.
Did not Rebecca likewise make a feast to her husband Isaac, in which Esau lost his heritage, and Iacob succeeded in the same blessing Isaacke (through fraude) whom hee tooke for Esau, and all through the counsell of his mother Rebecca, she hauing her dedesire and purpose as shee wished. Absolon, did not hee make an other to all his brethren, after which followed the death of Aman one of his brothers & by one of the other brethren their sister Thamar was defamed, and their father King Dauid very sore grieued, and afflicted, and all the realme of Israel slaundered? king Assuerus made an other of so great and foolish expence, that he kept open house for a hundred and fourescore dayes: and it followed that Queene Vasti was depriued of her crowne, and the fayre Hester inuested in her roome: Many Fearefull examples of those that haue made riotous feasts. Noble men of the City of Hull were murthered and hewen in pieces, by meanes whereof the Hebrues came into great fauour and credit, and Aman, the chiefe in authority and fauor about the Prince, depriued of all his lands, and shamefully executed vpon the Gallowes, and Mardocheus placed in his roome, and greatly sublimed and exalted.
Also the 14. children of the holy man Iob (which were 7. sonnes, and so many daughters) beeing all feasted at their eldest brothers house, before they rese from the boord, were they not all slaine?
Also Baltezar Sonne of King Nabuchodonozer made a banquet to al the Gentlewomen and his Concubines within the City, so sumptuous and rich, that that onely vessell hee was serued withall, and the cuppes they dranke in, were robbed out of the Temple of Hierusalem by his Father: and this followed after his great banquet. The selfe same night the king with all his Concubines dyed suddenly, and his Realme taken from him, and put into the handes of his enemies.
It had beene better for all these I haue recited, that they had eaten alone at home, then to haue dyed so suddenly accompanied.
Now let all these gourmands and licorous mouthed people marke what I shall say to them, and carry it well in mind, and that is this: that the sin of Gluttony is nothing else but a displeasure, great peril, and a maruellous expence. I say it is a displeasure: for the great care they haue continually to seeke out diuersity of fine and curious meates: great perill, because they plunge their bodies into many diseases, and in vnmercifull charge, for the curiosity and number of dishes So that for a litle pleasure and delight wee take in the sweet taste of those dainety meates, but a satisfaction vnto the mind for a short time: wee afterwardes haue infinite griefes and troubles, with a sower sawce, to our no little paine.
And therefore Aristotle mockeing the Epicurians sayde, That they vpon a time went all into the Temple together, beseeching the Gods that they would giue them neckes as long as the Cranes and Herens, that the pleasures and taste of the meates should bee more long, before that it came into the stomacke, to take the greater delight of their meate, complayning of Nature for that shee made their neckes so short: affirming that the only pleasure of meates consisted in the swallowing of it downe, which they sayde was too soone. If that wee saw a man euen vpon a sudden throw all his goods into [Page 707] the Sea or riuer, would we not imagine he were mad or a very foole?
Yes vndoubtedly. Euen such a one is hee that prodigally spendeth all his goods in feasting and banquetting.
And that this is true: doe wee not see manifestly that all these meats that are serued in at Noblemens boords to day, and to morrow conueyghed into the priuie, from the Eaters by their page or seruant?
Surely mans Stomacke is nothing else but a gutte or Tripe, forced with meate, bread, and wine: a Pauement fild with wine Lees, and a vessell of stincking-oyle, a receypt of corrrupt ayre, a sincke of a Kitchin, and a secret place, whereinto we cast all our goods and facultie, as into the riuer.
And therefore Esay sayde, that all these noble citties of Sodome and Gomorrha, by this onely curse did incurre into such execrable sinnes, for which afterwards they were destroyed. And this was euen through excesse of feeding, eating, and drinking, and too much ydlenesse: and it is no maruell. For it is an infallible thing, that where ydlenesse and gluttony raigneth, there must needes come some yll ende vnto that man.
The Greekes, the Romaines, the Egiptians, and the Scythes, although they were derected of many other sins and vices, yet were they alwayes sober and temperat in eating and drinking.
Iustine that wrote of Trogus Pompeyus reciteth, that among the Scythes (which were the rudest and most barbarous that came into Asia) vsed to reproue those that let goe winde, and to chastise and punish those that vomited: saying, that breaking winde, & vomiting, came only of too much eating and drinking.
Plutarch in his Apothegmes sayde, that there was a philosopher in Athens called Hyppomachus: that was so great an enemy to gluttonie, that he vsed in his Colledge such and so great an abstinence, that his Disciples by that were knowne amongst all the other Phylosophers. And not for no other thing, but to see them buye their cates and prouision to liue withall: for they neuer bought meates to fat them, and keepe them lusty, but onely to susteine nature, and that but little.
The Romanes made diuers lawes in the olde time to expell out of theyr Cities drunkards and Gluttons, wherof Wholsome lawes of the Romains against gluttonie. we will recite some vnto you, to the end that those that shall reade our present writings, shall both knowe and see what great care our Forefathers tooke to abolish this horrible vice of Gluttony.
First, there was a Law in Rome, called Fabian Law, so called, because Fabian the Consull made it, in which it was prohibited, that no man should bee so hardy in the greatest Feast hee made, to spend aboue a hundred Sexterces, which might bee in value a hundred peeces of 6. pence, Salets, and all other kinds of fruite, not comprised within the same.
And immediately after that, came out another law called Messinia, which the Consul Messinius made. By which they were also inhibited in all feastes to drinke no strange wines, which only were permitted to be giuen to those that were diseased. After which followed also another law Licinia made by the Consul Licinius, forbidding in all feasts all kinds of Sawces, because they incite appetite, and are cause of great expence. An other law Emilia, of Emilius the Consul also, commanding the Romans should be serued in their banquets but onely with fiue sortes of diuersities of meates, because in them there should be sufficient for honest re [...]ection, and no superfluitie to fil the belly: And then was there the Lawe Ancia made by Ancius the Consull, charging all the Romanes for to endeuor [Page 706] to learne all kinde of sciences, except cookery. For, according to their saying: In that House where was a Cooke, those of that house became poore quickely: their bodyes diseased, their mindes vitious, and al-together giuen to gluttonie.
After this law there came forth another called Iulia, of Iulius Caesar, comcommaunding al Romains, that none should be so hardy to shut their gates when they were at dinner: and it was A Law made by Iulius Caesar. to this ende, that the Censours of the Cittie might haue easie accesse into their houses at mealtime, to see if their Ordinary were correspondent to their habilitie.
And there was also another Lawe made afterwards, called Aristimia, of Aristmius the Consull, by which it was enacted, that it should bee lawfull for euery man to inuire his friends to dinner to him at noon, as they liked, prouided that they supped not together that night.
And this was established thus, to cut off the great charges they were at with their suppers. For the Romanes exceeded in superfluity of dainty and fine meats, and moreouer they sat too long guzling & eating at their suppers
Of all these Lawes heretofore recited, were authours Aulus Gelius: and Macrobius. And for this was Caius Gracchus well reputed of, by the Romanes, who notwithstanding hee had bin Consull in diuers Prouinces, (and that many times) and he was a man of great grauitie and authoritie in Rome, his wife was his onely cooke: and trauelling, his hostesse of his house where he lay dressed his meate.
Marcus Mantius in times past, made a booke of diuers wayes how to dresse meat, & an other of the tasts, sawces, and diuers maners of seruing of them in at the bankets, & a third book, how to couer the table, set the stools in order, order the cupbord: and also how seruants should wayte and giue theyr attendance at the Table: which three books were no sooner imprinted, and published, but presently and publikely they were burned by the Senate of Rome, and if his author had not quickly voyded Rome, & fled into Asia, he had accompanyed his bookes in the fire.
The auncient writers neuer ceased to reproue enough Lentulus, Caesar, Scylla, Scaeuola, and Aemilius: For, a banket they made in a garden of Rome, where they eate no other meates, but Blacke-byrdes, Torteyses, Mallardes, Nettles, pigs-brains, & hares in sauce.
But if the Romane Writers wrote in these dayes, I doe not beleeue they would reproue so simple a banquet made by so noble and famous persons as they were: For now a dayes they doe so farre exceede in variety of dishes at noble mens boords, that neyther they haue appetite to eate, nor yet they can tell the name of the dishes.
But now returning to our purpose, I say the intent why wee haue layde before you these forepassed examples, was onely to this end, to admonish the fauoured of Princes, to looke into themselues, that they auoid this filthy sinne of Gluttony. Beeing a foule blot in a Courtier, to be counted a greedy gut, and carmarant at his meate, and being one, whose manners and behauior euery man marketh: for sure it is more fitting for them to bee moderate and sober in eating and drinking then others, and good reason why: For as they are more Noble then others, so haue they many that sue vnto them, and they haue also the waightiest matters of gouernement, passing vnder their charge: by reason wherof if they surcharge themselus with excesse, they are then very vnapt to dispatch any matters: for much eating causeth sleepe, and much drinking depriueth thē of their iudgement [Page 707] and sences both.
Is it not to be wondered at, yea, and to bee reproued also, to see a Magistrate or Counsellour sit in his chaire, to heare poor mens causes and suites: and the suiter opening his cause vnto him, he sitteth nodding with his head in his bosome, ready to sleepe?
Euen so doe I say likewise, that it is a great reproach to the beloued of the Prince, and great damage to the common-wealth, that it should be spoken amongst Courtiers and suiters, that to day hee was of this opinion, and to morrow he is of another. So that the Courtyer or suiter should haue hope to dispatch that to morrow, hee could not doe to day.
King Philip, Father of Alexander the great, although he was a Prince noble and fortunate, yet was hee noted and King Philip noted of drunkennes rebuked for drinking of wine: whereof followed, that after hee had giuen iudgement vppon a time, against a poore widow-woman: she answered streight, she appealed.
The Noble-men that were present, hearing what was saide by the King: asked her, to whome shee would appeale, since the King in person gaue sentence of her, and no other? And this was her aunswere she made them. I appeale to King Philip which is now drunke: that when he is sober, he returne to giue sentence.
And as the Hystoriographers say, that writeth this historie: This poore woman was not deceyued, in her appellation at all: For after K. Philip had reposed and slept a little, he reuoked and repealed the Sentence that he had before giuen against her.
And therefore concerning this matter, I say, that that how wilde or tame soeuer a Beast bee, yet he still continueth a beast in his kinde, onely a man except, who very often through too much excesse of meat and drink, strayeth so farre from reason, forgetting himselfe, that neither he himselfe, nor any other knoweth well, whether hee be then a man or a Beast.
Those that are the fauoured of princes, must bee very circumspect, that they be not too sumptuous, and prodigall, in their Feasts and Banquets, for they haue many eyes attendant on them. And some will say, That they make not those great feasts of themselues, but by the gifts and presents of others.
I wish them in this case, that they should not hope to excuse themselues by saying, That they onely feast theyr kinsfolks & familiar friēds. For the enuie that comonly one beareth against the power & authority of a man, is so great and extreame, that it spareth not friends, remembreth not kinsfolke neyther maketh account of the benefites receyued: but rather as soone as the bidden guests are departed from his house that bad them, they go talking among themselues, and murmuring amongest others, saying many times that it is more worth, that is lost by the vaine and lauish expences of the fauoured Courtier, then that that is commonly serued to the Princes owne boorde.
Also I counsell the beloued of Princes that they take heede whome they trust, and whom they inuite vnto their Tables: For many times if they bee but foure that are bidden, one of them goeth sure to eate and banket, & the other three to fleere and mocke, and to marke all that is brought in, & the manner of the seruice. And the worst is yet, that he shall many times bring such to eate with him, that would more willingly eate his flesh, then his meate.
These reputed Courtiers must be well aduised, that though they be too delicate and superfluous in their meat yet at least that they bridle their tongs; For they may be assured, that as their [Page 708] guests they bad go full paunched from them, so cary they away with them all the superfluous and vaine wordes they heard at the table.
Besides that, that what so euer the Courtyer said at the boord, reporting it otherwhere, they will not say that hee spake it of himselfe, but that the King himselfe tolde it him.
And yet is there a farre greater danger and perill then this wee haue spoken of, and that is: That they will not simply tell that they hearde of the beloued Courtyer, but will adde vnto it of their owne heads, what they thinke best, and what was his meaning, in speaking it.
So that wee may say, that there are not so many Comments vppon the Byble, (as they make Glosses vppon the same reports, by their rash iudgemēts and fond interpretations) which they did descant vpon one only word spoken vnawares perhaps, by some at the Table of this fauoured Courtyer.
It is a generall custome amongst all estates and conditions of people: that where the [...]e are sumptuous Tables, and aboundance of dyshes, there the inuited sit long at their meate, and are liberall to speake euill. Which sure such as are in fauour with the Prince, neyther ought to doe, nor suffer it to be done at his boord. For the good and honorable Feast, ought onely to bee serued, with good and daintie meates: but in no wise marred with the defaming of his neighbour.
Oh how manie Feasts and Bankets are made in Princes Courtes, where without al comparison there are more detractions vsed of their neighbours, then there are diuersityes of dyshes to eate.
A pernitious thing doubtlesse, and and not to bee suffered nor abidden: For no man hurteth the reputation of another with his tongue, but with the selfe-same hee condemneth his owne conscience: and therefore let men be aduised of their speach, and what they How carefull a man ought to be to bridle his tongue. speake of others.
For it is alwayes an easie matter to detract and hinder the good fame and reputation of a man: but very harde afterwards to satisfie the partie.
Therefore I counsell, and admonish those Courtyers, that they doe not oft feast others: but also that they do not accept to goe to others Tables where they are bidden. For, they may bee assured, that they are beloued of fewe, and hated of all: and besides that, it might so happen, that others should be at the charge of the feast, and that they should lose their liues.
Also let not the fauoured Courtier trust those too much that come ordinarily to his Table, and that doe rebid him againe to theirs, yea though they seeme euen to bee wholly his to dispose, and possible, as it were his right hand, and that they be those whō hee happily to haue done much for, in dispatching their affayres: for lightly in such like feasts, treasons, and poisonings are not practised with the master of the Feast, but only with him that waiteth at the Table to giue drink or else by the Cookes that dresseth the meate.
Also let not the Courtier trust too much those whom hee hath beene in Company with all at diuers feastes, (where he neuer had hurt) much lesse knew any little occasion to suspect ill of them, touching any treason meant towards him: For so at a time when he suspecteth least, he may bee in most daunger, and finde himselfe deceyued. And therfore by my councell, he shall not easily be entreated to euery mans boorde, vnlesse hee bee first well assured of the companie that are bidden as also of the Seruants that wayte: For the holes and spaces of the French riddles (with which they dust their corne) sometimes is euen stopped [Page 709] with the very grains of the same corn: and letteth the cleare passage of all the rest
One of the greatest troubles (or to tearme it better) one of the greatest daungers, I see the fauoured Courtier in, is this: that all the Courtiers and in a manner all the Citizens, desire to see them out of fauour, or dead by some meanes. For euery man is of this minde, that with the chaunge of things, by his fall or death hee hopeth hee shall rise to some better state, or happily to catch some part of his offices or liuing.
An other mischiefe and inconuenience yet happeneth to this fauoured Courtier, by haunting other Tables, and that is, that many times it chanceth, vnseemely, and vnhonest wordes are let fall at the Table, and perhapps quarrell arise vpon it, which though hee bee present, yet he can neyther remedy, nor appease it.
And because these thinges were done & spoken in the presence of the esteemed of the Prince, he that spake them hath credit, and those that heard it, descryed it: Yet there is an other disorder that commeth by these feasts that is, that he which maketh the feast and biddeth guestes, dooth it not for that they are of his acquaintance, his kinsfolkes, or his faithfull friends, nor for that hee is bound and beholding to them, but onely to obtaine his desire in his suites that he hath in hand: for they are few that seeke to pleasure men, but in hope to be greatly recompenced. Therefore those that are in fauor and authority about the prince: and that accept others bidding, sure one of these two things must happen to them: Eyther that hee must dispatch his businesse that inuiteth him: yea although it be vnreasonable, & so vniust, and damnable, that obtayning it, both he and the fauoured Courtier goe to the Deuill together for company, for the wrong and iniury they haue done to another: or on the other side refusing to doe it, the Bidder is strucken dead, and repenteth his cost bestowed on him.
Aboue all things I chiefly admonish the Courtiers and Officers of Princes, not to sell, chaunge, nor engage their liberties as they doe, the same day they beginne to follow such feasts, or to receiue gifts or presents, or to linke themselues in straight friendshippe with any or to deale parcially in any cause: For by these foresayde occasions, they shall oft binde themselues to doe that that shall not bee fit for them, besides the losse of their liberty they had before, to doe that was most honest and commendable.
CHAP. XIX. That the fauoured of Princes ought not to be dishonest of their tongues, nor enuious of their words.
ANaxagoras the Philosopher disputing one day of the cause why Nature had placed the members of mans body in such order as they are, and of the propertie and complexion of euery one of them, and to what ende they had beene so orderly placed by Nature, each member in his place, falling in the end to treat of the tong, sayde thus of it: You must vnderstand Anaxagoras his opinion concerning the tongue. my good Disciples, that not without art and great mystery, Nature gaue vs two feete, two hands, two eares, and two eyes, and yet for all this but one tongue, whereby shee shewed vs, that in [Page 710] our going, feeling, smelling, hearing, and seeing: we may bee as long as we will: but in speaking wee should be as sparing and scant, as could bee: Alleadging further, That Nature suffered vs to goe open, and bare-faced: the Eyes, the eares, the hands, the feete, and other partes of the bodie bare also, excepting the Tongue, which shee hath enuironned with jawes, and empaled with Teeth, and also shut vp with lips: which shee did to giue vs to vnderstand, that ther is nothing in this present life that hath more neede of Guarde and defence, then hath this our vnbrydeled Tongue.
And therefore sayde Pythachus the phylosopher, that a mans Tongue is made like the yron poynt of a Lance, but yet that it was more daungerous then that: For the poynt of the lance can but hurte the flesh, but the Tongue pierceth the heart.
And surely it was a true saying of this philosopher. For I know not that man how vertuous or pacient so euer he be, but thinks it lesse hurt, the bloudie sword should pierce his flesh, then that he should be touched in honour, with the venemous poynt of the Serpentine-Tongue. For, how cruell soeuer the wound be, Time doth heale it, and maketh it wel againe: but defame or infamie, neyther late nor neuer can be amended.
We see men refuse to goe by water for feare of drowning: not to come too neer the fire for feare of burning, nor to goe to the warres, for feare of killing: to eate no ill meates, for beeing sicke: to climbe vp on high, for feare of falling: to goe in the darke, for feare of stumbling: to auoyde the yll ayre and raine, for feare of rewmes: & yet I see very few or none, that can beware of detractors and ill tongues. And that this is true I tell you, I doe not thinke that in any thing a man is in such perill and daunger, as when he liueth accompanyed with men dishonest in theyr dooings, and vile, and naught in their tongues.
I haue also read touching this matter, that Aformius the phylosopher being asked what he meant to spend the most part of his time amongst the desart mountaines, and in hazard, euery houre to be deuoured of wilde beasts? Answered thus. Wild beasts haue no other weapons to hurt mee, but theyr hornes and nayles, and theyr Teeth to deuoure mee, but men neuer cease to hurte and offend mee, with all their whole members.
And that this is true, behold I pray you, how they looke at mee with their Eyes, spurne mee with their feete, torment mee with their hands, hate mee with their hearts, and defame me with their tongues. So that we haue great reason to say: That a man liueth with more securitie amongst wilde beasts, then amongst malignant and enuious people.
Plutarch in his booke De exilio sayth That the Lidians had a Law, that as they sent the condemned murtherers to rowe in the Galleyes, so they confined those that were Detractors, and euill tongued men into a secret place, (farre off from all company) the space Plutarch reciteth a Law vsed among the Lidians. of halfe a yeare. In so much that many times these lewde mates chose rather to rewe in the Galley three yeers then to bee exempt from company, and speaking with any but sixe monethes.
Much like vnto this Law did Tiberius the Emperour make another, and condemned a great talker and railer of his tongue, and commaunded straightly that he should neuer speake word the space of a whole yeare. And as the historic sayth, hee remayned dumbe, and neuer spake during the whole terme, but yet that hee did (with his dumbnesse) more hurt with nods and signes with his fingers, then many other would haue done with [Page 711] their ill tongues.
By these two examples wee may see, that sith these naughty tongues are not to be repressed by silence, in secret, nor to entreate them as friends nor by doing them good, nor by sending them to Galleyes: nor to make them holde their peace, and to be as dumbe men: By mine aduise I would haue them banished (by general counsell) out of all Colledges counsels, chapters, townes and Commonwealthes: For wee see dayly by experience, that let an apple haue neuer so little a bruise, that bruise is inough to rotte him quickly, if hee be not eaten in time.
Demosthenes the Philosopher was of great authority for his person, graue in manners, and condition, and very sententious, & profound in his words: but with these he was so obstinate, & wilfull, and such a talker in all his matters, that all Greece quaked for feare of him.
Whereupon all the Athenians one day assembled in their hall, or common house, and there they appointed him a great stipend of the goods of the Common wealth, telling him that they gaue him this, not that he should reade, but because hee should holde his peace. Also this great and renowmed Cicero that was so valiant and politicke in martiall affayres, so great a friend to the Common weale of Rome and moreouer a Prince of Eloquence, for the Latine tongue, though he was cruelly put to death by Marke Antony, it was not for any fact committed against him, neyther for any wrong or iniurie hee had done him, saue onely for that hee enuyed against him, and spake euill of him.
Also the Noble and famous Poet Salust, and famous Orator of Rome, was not hated of strangers, and not beloued of his owne neighbours, for no other cause, but for that hee neuer tooke penne in hand to write, but hee euer wrote against the one, and neuer opened his mouth to speake, but hee alwayes spake euill of the other.
Plutarch touching this matter reciteth in his bookes De Republica, that amongst them of Lidia, in their publike weale, it was holden an inuiolable What punishment by a Law of the Lidians, was due to him that would defame his neighbour. Law, that they should not put a murderer to death for killing of any, but that they should onely execute, and put him to tortur, that would defame his neighbour, or in any one Worde seeme to touch him in honour and estimation.
So that those barbarous Nations thought it more execrable to defame a man, then to kill and murther him: And therefore I say, hee that burneth my house, beates my person, and robbeth me of my goods, must needes doe me great dammage: but he that taketh vpon him to touch my honour and reputation with infamy, I will say, hee offendeth mee much, and that so greatlie, as he may well stand in feare of his life: For there is not so little an offence done to a man of stoute courage, but hee carrieth it euer after imprinted in his heart, till hee haue reuenged the villany done him: euen so in Princes Courts, there rise more quarrels, and debates through euill tongues and dishonest reports, then there dooth for any play or shrewde turnes that are done.
I know not what reason they haue to strike off his hand that first draweth sword, and fauoureth and leaueth him vnpunished, that draweth bloud with his il tongue.
O what a happy good turne were it for the Common weale, if (as they haue in all Townes and well gouerned policies, penall lawes, prohibiting for to weare or carry weapon) they had like lawes also to punnish detractiue, and wicked tongues: Surely, there can not be so great a blotte or vice in a [Page 712] Noble man, Knight or Gentleman of honest behauiour and countenance, as to bee counted and reputed a tatler of his tongue, and therewithall a detractor of others. But let not such deceiue themselues, thinking that for their countenance or estates sake they bee priuiledged aboue others, at their wills and pleasure to enlarge their tongues on whom they list in such maner, but that their inferiours farre, will as liberally speake of them, yea, & as much to their reproach, as they before had done of them: repenting as much of their honesty and credite for their calling (beeing in equiualent in estate or degree to them) as they doe of their dignity and reputation.
At that time when I was a Courtier, and liued in Princes Court, there dyed out of the Court a worthy knight, who at his noble funerals was commended of vs al, to be a good and deuout Christian, and chiefly aboue all his noble and heroicall vertues, hee was onely lauded and renowmed, for that they neuer heard him speake ill of any man.
So one of the company that was present, hearing this great prayse of him, tooke vpon him to say this of him: If hee neuer spake ill of any, then did hee neuer know what pleasur those haue that speake ill of their enemies. Which words when we heard though wee passed them ouer with silence, yet was there none but was greatly offended at them, and good cause why: For to say truly, the first degree of malignity is, for a man to take a felicity in speaking ill of his neighbour.
King Darius being at dinner one day, there were put foorth of the Waighters and Standers by, certain Arguments of the Acts and doings of Alexander the Great: in which lispute, one Mignus a Captaine of the King, and greatly in fauour with him, was very earnest against Alexander, and went too farre in speech of him. But Darius perceiuing him thus passioned, sayde to him: O Mignus, A speech of King Darius. holde thy tongue, for I doe not bring thee into the warres with mee, that thou shouldest infame Alexander (and touch his honour with thy tongue, but that thou shouldst with thy sword ouercome him.
By these examples wee may gather, how much wee ought to hate detraction and ill speaking, since we see that the very enemies themselues cannot abide to heare their enemies euill spoken off in their presence: and this is alwayes obserued of the honourable, graue, and wise men that are of noble mindes: For sure each noble heart disdaineth to bee reuenged of his enemy with his tongue, for his iniuries done him: if hee cannot be reuenged on him with his sword.
It is fitting for all in generall to be modest and honest in their speech, but much more it is due for him that embraceth the fauour and credite of his Prince: For it is his profession to doe good, to helpe euery man, and to speake ill of no man.
They haue such Centinels of spies vpon them continually (which are officers in Court and about the Prince) to marke what they speake and do, that treading once awry (how little soeuer it bee) it is straight blowne into the Princes eares, and they perhaps accused of that which they neuer thoght delighting, and taking great pleasure to tell openly what they heard them say.
Such therefore as are dayly Courtiers, attending vppon the What behauiour belongeth to a Courtier. Prince, and in fauour with him, must (if they meane to continue that fauour and credite) be gentle, and courteous in their Wordes, and bountifull to those that stand in need of them.
[Page 713] Also the esteemed Courtyer must beware hee doe not speake yll of no man, but also that he be not too great a talker. For commonly these great talkers besides that they are not esteemed, bee also reputed of small iudgement and of simple counsell.
Pythyas', that was the great Gouerner, and Duke of the Athentan nation, was a Noble prince, beloued and feared, hardy, and valiaunt, and yet in the ende as saith Plutarch, the aboundance of wordes, obscured the glorie of his heroicall deedes.
Although oft times these great talkers, and men too full of words bee of Noble byrth' or worship, wealthie in possessions, and otherwise of authoritie and estimation: yet neuerthelesse, all that time they spende in speaking too much, others that heare them, occupie the same in deryding and scorning of them.
I beseech you consider, what greater reproach could a Courtyer haue, then to be counted a babbler, a prater of his tongue, and a lyer? For when hee thinks euery man is attentiue, and listening to him, it is quite contrarie: for euen at that instant do they laugh him to scorne: and yet this is nothing to the shame they doe vnto him afterwards.
For those that talke to him, whilst he is thus babbling, pots at him with their mouthes, behind his backe, nods with their heads, holdes downe theyr Eyes, and soothes him in all that hee sayes, and all this not to praise or commend him, but to be merry afterwards at the matter, when they are together. And it is a sport to note, and heare of one of these great Talkers, if any man talke of warre, of the liberall sciences, of hunting, or of husbandrie, hee will streight leape into the matter althogh he be vtterly ignorant in the thing proponed, taking vppon him to reason of the matter, as if hee were very skilfull, or master of that faculty. And to make the hearers belieue, that that is true he saith, hee bringeth in an example: saying that he hath seene it, read it, or heard it, and all perhaps a starke Lye, that hee neyther sawe it, reade it, nor heard it of any: but onely deuised of his owne head, on a sudden, vnder the colour of Truth, to forge and make a false Lye.
Acaticus the Phylosopher, beeing one day at a Feast, where hee neyther spake nor offered once to speake: being asked after Dinner, what was the occasion of his silence, answered them thus: It is better for a man to know his A wise saying of Acaticus the Philosopher time to speake, then it is to knowe to speake. For to speake well, is giuen vs by Nature: but to chuse fit time to speake, proceedeth of wisdome.
Epimenides the painter, after hee had dwelt long time in Asia, returned to Rhodes, from whence hee first departed, and because none of the Rhodians euer hearde him speake any thing, eyther of that hee had seene, or done in Asia, they maruelled very much, and earnestly prayed him to discourse vnto them some part of that he had seen, and suffered in Asia. To whome hee made this aunswere.
Two yeares I sulked the Seas, abyding the perills of the water, and ten other yeares I was resident in Asia, to learn the perfection of a paynters art: sixe other yeares I studyed in Greece, to accustome my selfe to be silent, and nowe you would I should feede you, with tales and newes.
O Rhodians, come to mee no more with any such motion: for you should come to my house to buy pictures, and not to heare newes. Albeit in so many yeares, and in such farre and strange Countries it could not be but Epimenides had seene many things worthy to bee recounted, and also very pleasant for to heare: yet hee would neuer tell them, nor shew thē: [Page 714] and sure herein he did like a good philosopher, and answered like a wise & graue person: For in telling of strange things, and of diuers countries, there are few that will beleeue them, and many that will stand in doubt whether they be true or not.
And therefore touching this matter also, Pythagoras the Philosopher was one day asked vpon what occasion he made his Scholers vse so great silence in his Colledge, that in two yeares after they were entered, they might not speake. He answered thus: In other Philosophers Schooles they teach their Disciples to speake, but in mine there is taught nothing but to holde their peace. For in the whole World there is no better nor higher A speech of Pythagoras philosophy then to know to bridle the tongue.
It is a maruellous thing to see a mā that with time his beard and haires of his head become all white, his face withered, his eares deafe, his legs swoln his breath stinke, his spleene stopte, and his body faint and feeble with age, and all the parts thereof consumed saue onely the heart and tongue, which we neuer see waxe olde in manner, how aged or impotent soeuer he bee, but rather dayly become greene: and that is worst of all is, that what euill the wretched hart thinketh in that crooked and miserable age, that doth that accursed tongue with all celerity vtter.
There is a Companie of Courtiers in the Court that presume to bee eloquent, and well spoken, and of Courtly entertainement, which when they will talke of some pleasant matter, they must first tell you a lye, and surely these kind of Courtiers wee may better call them detractors of others, then ciuill entertainers.
Accursed bee hee that to the preiudice of his neighbour maketh profession to bee a Courtly entertainener, and you shall hardly see none of these recited Courtiers iest of any but they haue in secret Spunne the thread to weaue a great cloth of malice. And yet wee doe these men great honour and reuerence, not for any good will we beare them, but for that wee are afraid of their ill tongues, and althogh to dissemble other while, it is a graue and wise mans part, yet for all that wee may not iudge ill of them, since wee see the best mans honour and credite commonly to be no greater nor lesse: then a malignant person shal seeme to vse his tongue to speake of him. I remember there was in the Court in my time a noble man, noble of birth and person both, whome I reproued diuers times (as his familiar friend) of his prodigall liuing and ill speaking: And he made me this answere.
Truely sir, those that report that I speake ill of them, it is themselues that do it of me: and if I follow them therein, it is for nothing else, but to bee a witnesse for them, if any seeke to impugne their saying: but sure of my selfe I neuer vttered, or deuised word, that might bee to the preiudice of any. O what euill causeth hee, that speaketh ill of another, he onely offendeth not that beginneth, but hee that assisteth him, and much more he that heareth him, and after publisheth it but aboue all, hee that telleth it abroade, and addeth more then hee heard.
The Fauoured of Princes must also thinke, that though they are prohibited to speake much, yet it is most The Courtyer ought to be a t [...]ue Secretarie. fitte and decent for them to bee true and faithfull Secretaries: For there is no thing that the Prince priseth more, then the secret breast of his fauoured Courtier. And therefore I say not without cause that they ought to bee secret, but most secret: For the esteemed Courtier must haue a better consideration of his princes secrets [Page 715] committed vnto him, then of the benefites receyued of him.
Sure it is no small, but a great and most necessary vertue in a man to bee close and of fewe words, and so secret in deede, that he make no more countenance of that was tolde him priuily, then if he had neuer heard it spokē of.
I know an other kinde of people so proane to speake yll, that they cannot keepe secret theyr owne faultes, much lesse others faults, publishing them in euery corner.
Cecilius Metellus beeing asked one day of a Centurion, what he meant to doe the next day following? aunswered thus.
Thinke not Centurion that those things I am determined to doe, my hands shall so lightly discouer: for I am of this minde, if I knewe that my shyrt had any knowledge of that I will doe tomorrow, I would put it off, and throw it straight into the fire, & see it burned before my face.
It is not alike trust, to put money into one mans handes of trust, and to commit secretes to the breast of another: and this to be true we see it plainly, that the prince deliuereth his goods and treasure to the custodie of manie, but his secrets hee committeth onely to one.
The fauoured of Princes ought to be so secrete, that whatsoeuer they see the Prince doe or say (be it in the presence of diuers, and that they are tolde of it by many:) Yet they ought not to be acknowne of it. For, indeede the Prince speaketh many things cōmonly for his pleasure, which being reported againe of the Fauoured Courtyer, wil be thought true, and most certain.
Therefore speaking generally of this matter, I say, that surely Friendes are greatly bound to keepe the secretes of their friends: For that day I discouer my intent to any, the selfe-same I make him lord of my libertie. Therefore let that man thinke he hath wonne a maruellous treasure, that hath a secrete friend. For without doubt it is no such matter of importance, to keepe treasure safely locked vp in a chest, as it is to commit and trust secretes vnto the heart of another.
Plutarche writeth that the Athenians hauing warres with King Philip of Macedonie, because there came certain leters of K: Philips to their hands (intercepted by their scowtes) directed and sent vnto his wife Olimpia: which they no sooner vnderstoode, but they presently returned again safely sealed, and vntouched of them, as they came first vnto them, saying: That sith by theyr law they were bound to be secret, they wold not reueale the secrets of others, notwithstanding they were their mortall enemies, as K: Philip was to them: and therefore they would neyther see them, nor read them openly.
Diodorus Siculus sayth also, that among the Egyptians it was a criminal act for any man to bewray the secrets of another: which was proued true by the example of a Priest, that in the Temple of the Goddesse Isis had defloured a virgine, and they both trusting to the fidelitie of another Priest, making their loue knowne vnto him: euen as they were in Venus sweete delights, hee not regarding any longer their secrets, in ipso facto exclaimed and cryed out, and thereupon conuict and apprehended by the Iustice, these poore Louers were miserably executed, and this spightful and vnfortunate Priest condignely banished.
And this banished Priest complaining of the vniust sentence, saying, that which he reuealed was in fauour of the Religion, and for the behoose of the Common wealth: the Iudge aunswered him thus: If thou haddest knowne their offence of thy selfe, without their notice giuen thee, thou haddest had reason to haue complained of our sentence, [Page 716] but since they trusted thee with their doings, and thou gauest them thy word and promise to be secret, if thou hadst called to minde the bonde thou werte bound to them in, and that thy selfe did freely without their compulsion submit thy selfe vnto, thou wouldest not once dared to haue published the fact as thou hast done.
Plutarch in his booke de exilio sayeth, that a man of Athens once demaunded an Egyptian (Disciple of a Philosopher) what hee had vnder his cloke, aunswered him thus: Truely thou hast studyed little, and borne away lesse, although thou art an Athenian borne, sith thou seest that I carry secretly that thou demaundest, because thou nor none other shoulde know it, and yet thou askest it of my selfe, what it is that I carry.
Anasillus that was a Captaine of the Athenians, was taken of the Lacedemonians, and put to the torture, because he should tell that hee knew: and what the King Agesilaus his Lord and Master did, to whome hee gaue this answere. You Lacedemonians haue liberty to dismember me, and to hewe mee in pieces: but so haue not I to reueale my Lord and Masters secrets: A worthy answere of Anasillus. For in Athens wee vse rather to dye, then to bewray the secrets of our friend.
King Lisimachus entreated the Philosopher Philipides very earnestly, that he would come and dwell with him: but hee made them this answere: I would bee very glad to bee in your company, knowing you to bee a fauourer of Philosophy: and if you will goe to the warres, I will follow you: and if you trust mee with your goods, I will keepe them carefully and faithfully, if you haue children, I wil teach them with all my heart: if you will vse my counsell in your affaires, I will giue you the best I can: And if you will also giue mee the charge of your common wealth, I will gouerne it with my best discretion.
Onely one thing I will request you that you will neuer commaund mee: that is, not to make mee pertaker of your secrets. For it might happen that what you had tolde me in secret, your selfe vnawares at a time might tell it openly, and yet not thinke of it: and beeing afterwards tolde you by some other, you would presently enter into suspect that it came to knowledge by me. This Phylosopher would first indent with the Prince (before hee would come to his seruice) that hee should neuer heare any of these things the knowledge whereof bringeth many a man to their end, or at the least to some great mischiefe: onely to shew vs the eminent perill and daunger the Secretary of a prince standeth in. For our heart is such a friende of newes, that euery hower it feeleth a thousand temptations to vtter that to others, that was deliuered to vs of secret.
In this our age we do not vse for to keepe secrets, so well as in olde time the Grecians were wont, sith wee see by experience, that if one friend haue to day told his friend a thing in secret, tomorrow, yea perhaps the selfe same night before, it was tolde among the neighbours.
There are also some kinde of men so desirous to heare newes, that for to know it, they will sweare a thousande othes neuer to reueale it againe to any. But so soone as they know it, they are like vnto the bloud-hounds that follow the Deare, now here, now there smelling with their noses, till they haue found the hurt Deare, then they open and baye for their Master.
Therefore I counsell and exhortal wise and discreet men, that they doe not accōpany with those whom they know are not secret: for the hurt that [Page 717] commeth by them, consisteth not only to tel that they know, see, and heare: but with this they tell that they haue imagined of their owne wicked, and malicious heads. It cannot be otherwise, but beeing men, wee are also subiect to the frailtie of a man: As for example;
To fall into the sinne of the Flesh, and in that to forget the sinne of gluttonie, and to haue small consideration of that of slouth, to be assured of that of Auarice, or with that to bee ouercome with passion and rage, or to bee puffed vp in the sinne of Pride. And if perhappes by misfortune, any one chance into such mens company, that hath but parte, or all these conditions, and such one as doe discouer and disclose both his own secrets and others too, what other can there be hoped of, then a fire enflamed in his good fame and reputation, and a contagtous plague and pestilence in his house?
For that that I haue heard, seen, and read, yea and also proued: I say and affirme, that there is no bread so ill spent, as that that is giuen to the Seruaunts which open and reueale their Maisters secrets.
And sure it may be saide, that such are not Seruaunts that serue them, but Traytours that betray them, and fell their Maisters libertie. And it is of such importance, for the Fauoured of Princes, to keepe secret, and not to reueale any parte of the Princes secrets, that euery man must thinke, that when the Prince telleth them any thing in secret, he telleth it not alone to them, but rather he confesseth it vnto them.
Princes being men (as indeed they are) and much busied, with the cares of the Common-wealth, it cannot bee, but when they are withdrawne a part into their priuy chamber, they wil both play, talke, sleyt, sigh, laugh, be angry, threaten, and make much againe of some before others.
All which things though they doe before their seruants in secret, it is not their pleasure, neyther will they like it should be told abroad amongst theyr Subiects.
And sure they haue great reason: for men of grauity and authority, doe not lose their reputation for doing of No seruāt so hurfull as hee that reuealeth his maisters secrets. things graue, and of good example: but they are iustly noted, when publikely they will shew any lightnesse or folly, how lightly soeuer it be. Not only those that be in authority and fauor about the Prince, but such other officers of the Court and Seruants of houshold of the prince also, ought not to tell or reueale any thing they see their Prince do: For they may be well assured, that the prince will be more offended and displeased to haue that he doth in his priuie Chamber tolde abroad by those of the priuy Chamber, or other whom it pleaseth him to make familiar with him, then he would be, if his tresurers and receiuers should rob him of his treasure. It was tolde to Denys the Sir acusan on a time that Plato the Philosopher was at the chamber dore to speake with him, and hee presently sent Bias of his priuy Chamber (that hee loued well) to him to know what hee would with the King: The sentence of Denis vpō Byas, a Courtyre. and Plato a [...]ked Bias what Denys did: and hee answered that hee laye starke naked vpon a Table, which when Denys vnderstoode, he was so offended with Bias, that he commanded forthwith hee should bee beheaded, saying first these words vnto him. I will that like a traytor thou be beheaded, sithence thou hast trayterously betrayed mee, presuming to disclose the secretes of my Chamber. For I sent thee not to Plato to tell him what I did, but for to know what hee would of mee. Now Princes familiars and Beloued of them, as they must bee very circumspect and heedefull that they tell no man the [Page 718] Princes secretes: so they must bee much careful that they tell it not chiefly to women, yea though they were their owne wiues: For as women are very good and profitable, to looke to Courtiers ought to keepe their secrets from women. things of housholde, and safely for to locke vp their husbands goods: So are they on the other side very daungerous for man to commit any secrets to them: For notwithstanding a woman know, that in reueling the secrets of her husband, she putteth her life in perill, the honour of her husband, the losse of her children, the reputation of her house and kindred, and peraduenture the peace and tranquility of the Common weale: yet had shee rather dye, then shee should not vtter that shee knoweth.
And many times for no other respect, but to make these women beleeue that heareth her, that she onely commaundeth her husband, and all besides in her house. Well, I will enlarge my selfe no further of this matter, for if I would but giue my penne leaue to write that I know, I shoulde finde lime and sand enough to builde a Tower as high as Babylon.
But to end my purpose, I will speake this one word, and that is, That I coū sell and exhort, and with all my heart request Princes Familiars or Seruants, that they commit not their Princes secrets to any, how great a friend, or neere kinsman soeuer he be to them: For they may bee assured, that since they refuse to keepe secrete that the Prince commandeth them, that much lesse their friend will keepe it secret for any request they make to him. If thou cannot keepe the secret, that to open it, importeth the losse of thy fauour & credite, and happily thy life also: how canst thou thinke an other will doe it, that in telling it, winneth both honor and credit.
CHAP. XX. A commendation of Truth, which professed Courtiers ought to embrace, and in no respect to be found defectiue in the contrary, telling one thing for an other.
EPimenides the Philosopher being requested of the Rhodians to tell them, what the vertue was they caled verity, he answered them thus: Verity my friends, is a thing which the Gods aboue al other professe, and her vertue is such, that it warmeth the heauens, lighteth the earth, maintains iustice, and gouerneth the Commonwealth, and suffereth no euill thing in her, making plain and cleare all doubtfull and hidden things.
The Corinthians asked the like question also of Chilo the Philosopher what verity was; who aunswered, that it was a perdurable pillar, neuer diminishing, nor decreasing: a buckler or shield impassable, a fayre time that is neuer troubled, an army that neuer perisheth, a flower that neuer withereth, a Sea that neuer feareth fortune and a sure hauen where neuer was ship wracke.
Anaxarchus the Philosopher, was also demaunded of the Lacedemonians what verity was, who aunswered that it was a health without sicknesse, a life without end, a iuleppe and sirrop that healeth all, a Sunne that neuer darkneth, a Moone without Eclipse, an herbe that neuer dryeth, a gate that is neuer shut, and a way that neuer wearieth man.
[Page 719] The like was asked of Eschines the phylosopher touching veritie, by the Rhodians: And he saide, that it was a vertue, without which all force was weakned, Iustice corrupted, humilitie fained and dissembled, patience insupportable, chastitie vaine, libertie loste, and pitie superflous.
The like was demanded of Pharmacus the phylosopher by the Romans. And his aunswer was, that veritie was a true Center, wherein all things reposed, a carde to saile by, to direct the pilote and mariners, a wisdome to heale and recure euery man, and a present remedie for all euills: a height, in the top whereof euery man resteth, and a bright light, to enlighten the whole world. And surely this maketh mee thinke that these Phylosopehrs were great Friendes and Louers of veritie, since that they did so much enrich and sublime the same, with so many rare and excellent titles.
But now omitting these Phylosophers, who haue truly spoken that they knew: let vs come speake of him that aboue all the World hath exalted veritie: which was the diuine WORD: and that was IESVS CHRIST, the onely begotten Sonne of GOD: and true glasse of Eternitie: who being asked the selfe-same thing of Pylate, said not to him, I am wisedome, neyther iustice, nor chastitie, nor patience, humanitie, not charitie: But onely saide vnto him, I am veritie. To let vs vnderstand, that euery creature might bee partaker of that veritie. But our Lord Iesus Christ was not partaker of that veritie, but the sole and onely possessor of the same, hee beeing the very Trueth it selfe.
Oh of how manie is this vertue desired? and of how few (yea, most fewe) obserued. For, in effect it is nothing else but a marke, whereat all good men shoote with their Eyes, and all yll and wicked persones loose their sight.
The Emperour Augustus in the Triumph hee made of Marke Anthony, & his loue Cleopatra, amongst others brought to Rome an Egyptian Priest, of 60. yeares of age, and the Senate being informed of a surety, that dayes of his life he neuer tolde lye, they agreede not onely to restore him to liberty, but to make him high Priest of their Temple, and to erect a Statue of him, among the noble and princely persons of Rome.
Spartianus writeth, that in the time of Clandian Emperour of Rome, there deceased a Citizen of Rome called Pamphylus reported neuer to haue tolde a true tale. Pamphilus, whose doings after his death examined, it was manifestly proued, that hee neuer spake one true Word all his life time, but alwayes lied in that he sayde.
Which related vnto the Emperour, hee commanded his body should not be buried, his goods should be confiscate, and his house raized to the foundation, and his wife and children for euer banished Rome, and all her Territories, to the end there should remayne no memory to the Commonwealth, of so pesteferous and venemous a beast.
At that time when these 2 thinges thus happened, the Romanes and Egyptians were mortall enemies, and therefore by these examples wee may see, of what force and power this vertue of verity is, sith the Romans made a statue to their enemy, only for that he was a true and iust man: and depriued of Sepulture their natiue childe, and a Romane borne, for that he was a lyer.
A true man may goe in any place where hee listeth, freely without interruption, accompanied with all men, not fearing to be accused of any, and may with safety reproue the vitious, and ill persons: And finally, to conclude, he may without the feare of any [Page 720] speake in the face of the world, & shew his face among the best.
If a man will chuse a friend, he need not bee inquisitiue if he bee wise, iust, chaste, carefull, couragious, or noble, but onely if hee be true of his worde. And if that be so, it followeth that all vertues and honesty must abounde in him.
Helius Spartianus reciteth of the life of Traian the Emperour that beeing one night at Supper, and accompanied with noble men at his boorde: they argued of the fidelity of friendes, and infidelity of enemies, whom Traian aunswered. That hee neuer had friend in his life but he was good, true, honest, and faithfull; whereupon his Lordes besought him, that it woulde please him to tell them the occasion of his good hap in this, And he aunswered thus:
The cause why I haue euer beene so fortunate herein was this, I neuer would chuse to my friend a lyer and A worthy speech of the Emperour [...] in concerning lyers. couetous man: For in him that raigneth auarice, and lying, there can neuer dwell perfect friendship.
Those that are honest, and like so to be reputed, must endeauor them selues to speake well alwayes, and euer to say, that that is true: and if they will not doe this for conscience sake, yet let them doe it for to auoide the shame that followeth them.
For there can bee no greater mockerie or despight done to a man, then openly to make him know hee hath lyed.
Wee see the childe when hee perceyueth hee hath tolde a lye, he blusheth straight, and is ashamed: much more ought men growne in yeares, whose face is couered with hayres, not onely blush, but shame to tell a lye.
Many times I thinke what a great griefe the Marchant suffereth euerie houre not to bee counted a Lyer, whē he vttereth his ware, and sure he dooth it but because hee would not lose his credite.
And lo here why they sweare commonly by the faith of a Marchant to bee more assured, when to the contrary we see many other, that in apparance seeme to bee honest and graue men, that vse not the manner, but rather they will sticke no mere to tell you a lye, then to lose a wheat grain:
But here I speake nor, neyther doe meane to touch those that are indeed vertuous and good men: but I speake of those that thinke themselues honest and yet be not, God knoweth. And therefore wee may be assertained, that a marchant esteemeth more his goods and marchandize, then a lyer doth his honour, otherwise honesty.
There is nothing that preiudiceth truth so much, as a tatling tongue that neuer lyeth: being in a manner impossible, that amongst many wordes, some lye he not interlaced. All things consist not in other more or lesse, saue onely in the vse that men haue of it: for if a man doe vse to eate little, hee alwayes goeth from the Table: if wee vse to sleepe little, wee also leaue our bedde. And if we accustome our selus also to lye, we shall haue it such a continuall vse, as though wee would, wee shall neuer leaue it after: For there are diuers sorts of men, that as they accustome themselues to eate and drinke oft times in a day, so doe they vse to lye euery houre.
But I aske what is the greatest and most perfect thing in this life, that a man whilest he liueth may enioy. I dare boldly say, that it is neyther nobility, great parentage, nor fauour, neyther the great estate, health, nor riches: but rather that it is the sole honour, which tatlers and lyers may neuer enioy, because they are neuer credited nor beleeued in their wordes: What fame, credite, honour, reputation, or good can hee haue, out of [Page 721] whose mouth there cōmeth nothing but lyes?
A lyer deserueth credite of no man, neyther that any man should deale with him in any thing, much lesse to commit any matter of trust into his hands, no nor loue him, nor accept of him, but rather as a detractor, and defamer of mens good name, wee How hatefull and odious a Lyer ought to be esteemed among men. should banish him our company.
Hanibal that was the mighty Prince of the Carthagenians, so valiant in warlike prowesse, so hardy to follow it, and therewithall so fortunate to ouercome his enemies, was yet notwithstanding, blamed of Titus Liuius, and reputed for a malignant & periured person: For hee neuer gaue that hee promised to his friends, neyther euer kept any couenant or agreement made with his enemies. Such was not Gneus Pompeius (sonne to Pompey the great) with whom Octauian, and Marke Antony (both his mortall enemies) beeing at supper with him on the sea, Menodorus the Captaine of his Armie sent him word, if it were his pleasure, he would so liuely haue hoist vp the sayles of the ship, that he would soone haue perished them, or sunked the shippe they were in. To which message Pompey gaue this answer.
Thou shalt tell Menodorus my Captaine, that if I were Menodorus as hee is, that neuer knew what truth meant, I would haue followed his aduise, and haue done that hee sendeth to mee for: but if hee were Pompeius as I am, which keeps my word and promises with all men, such a thought and treason would neuer haue occupied his head.
Wordes sure worthy of so noble a Prince, sonne of so great and worthy a Father.
Herodotus writeth also, that when the Egyptians would make any new amitie betwixt themselues, or bee in league, and confederate themselues with straungers, they vsed to binde their thombs harde to the thombes of those with whome they would ioyne in friendship, and then with an instrument pricked euery one of theyr thumbes that the bloud spurted out, which they sucked the one the other, with their tongue: inferring thereby, that they would rather sheadde their whole bloud, then in one iote to falsifie and breake that friendship promised betweene them.
Is it not a goodly thing to heare him that sweareth by the Masse, of mine honesty, so God ketch mee, by my good sooth, by cocke and pye, and other like nice oathes, only vnder simplicitie thereof to make you belieue a lye he will tell you: which in deed we should least then belieue, when hee is most ruffe in his oathes.
For it is most certaine, the more a lyer enforceth his words with aboundance of Oathes, the lesse is hee to be Wee ought not to belieue one that sweareth much. belieued. For that is a plaine demonstration, that it is a prepensed Lye, he would make vs belieue for a truth. It is a sport to see a true man and a Lyer in Argument together: for the true man enforceth his words none otherwise but thus: Truely friend, it is euen thus as I tell thee, thou mayest if thou wilt belieue mee.
And the other to defend and maintaine his Lye, will inuocate for witnes all the diuells of Hell, &c. So that for defence of the Trueth, it sufficeth to stand fast on his feete: but for the defence of a Lye hee must runne throgh the whole world.
If I were a King or prince to throw the beloued out of fauour, to put my men out of seruice, to depriue men of their office & dignitie, or to disgrade a knight of his order of knight-hood, or to giue no more faith nor credit to one then an other. I would desire no better occasion or testimonie, then once to take him with a Lye. And I [Page 722] would think it lesse ill, that the fathers should rather pardon a great faulte in their childrē, that friend in his friend, and the maister in his seruant, then to beare with him in one lye. For by Time the wings of sin is cut: But to Lye is of such a condition, the elder a man waxeth, the more force and power it hath of him.
It is not ynough for a man to be free of this vice, but hee must also flye and sequester himselfe from the fellowship of those which are possessed with that fowle and inueterate Error, For, it is commonly seene, when a man would bring out a sudden Lye, to giue it the more credit, he will auouch his friend for a witnes, saying: hee knoweth it, and was present with me.
Now those that heare this famous Lye, and know the very truth in deede of the matter as it was, condemneth his friend he auoucheth (although he be innocent of the matter) for that he is brought in for testimony, as they doe this notorious, and shamelesse Lyer.
I should lye also for companie, if I should denie to tell you, that being in the Court vpon a time in a good presence, a friende of mine stucke not to forge a Lye amongst others: and said that hee had sayled in a ship, made all of the canes of Synamon, and he auouched mee for a witnes: affirming that I was likewise with him in his companie in the ship: and I to saue his honour (hee being my very friend) being ashamed he should incurre the name of a Lyer, was compelled seriously to confirme his tale with him, whereof I repented mee afterwardes with all my heart. For thereby I was in secret noted of the hearers, to be as great a lyer as hee.
Also another time, when I went to preach at the Court (being diseased of the gout) I walked vp and down with a staffe of reede to stay me withall, the selfe-same person I told you of before, tolde amongst the Prelates that were in the Chapell where I preached, that hee had giuen mee a Reede or caue to walke withall, that from one knob to another, it wold hold three great pots of wine.
Loe, now by my example you may gather, what shame and deshonestie an honest vertuous man sustaineth, to bee a friend and companion of one so shamelesse and horrible a Lyer.
For to bee plaine, I was brought to this passe, by meanes of this friend of mine, that I could not tell what I should doe, but when I heard him beginne to speake, to flye from him, and leaue him, because I would not be reputed of like reputation with him: how beit in the end I was forced to vse this policie: that what hee had openly auouched me a witnesse in, secretly again I would excuse my selfe and denie it.
But now returning to our matter againe, I say, That these Courtiers & Familiars of Princes, ought to exile and banish from them this abominable crime of lying: For if a mean gentleman or simple Plebeyan happen sometimes to tell one thing for another, It is but taken of the Hearers straight for a simple lye.
But being spoken by one of the fauoured of the Court, or other Gentleman of reputation, it is thought a kinde of treason: For like as betwixt God and the sinner, our Sauiour Iesus Christ, is our onely meane and Mediatour, being called vpon by the Priest, euen so betwixt the king and his Subiects, that are suiters to his Priests ought not to distemble, nor be double in their words Maiesty: those that are in fauour with the prince, are mediators for them: Now therefore if these Priestes bee double in their wordes and dissemblers in that they speake, how shall the sinnes of the one be pardoned, & the businesse of the other dispatched:
[Page 723] Oh wofull and vnhappy sinner, that putteth his sinnes into the hands of a naughty and wicked Priest, and likewise vnfortunate and miserable is the poore suiter that comitteth his affaires to the trust & dispatch of a lying and dissembling Officer.
There are many officers in princes Courts, that tell the poore suiters still they will dispatch them, but when it commeth to the push, to followe the matter, all his faire words are then but winde, and indeede they make an arte of it, to speake all men faire, to promise much, and to performe nothing, weening with their sweete flattering wordes to winne the hearts and good wills of all, little regarding the great expence and losse of time of the poor suter: much lesse also respecting their owne honour, honesties, and credite. Sure it were lesse dishonour for them, to bee counted rough, and churlish, then to be bruted for Lyers, and breakers of their promise.
The officer of the Princes pallace, that is a dissembler, and a Lyer in his words, and doings, hee may for a time maintaine his suites, and goe through with his matters: but in the ende, his trecheries perceiued, himselfe, his fautor, and all his dealings lye in the dust, and are vtterly ouerthrowne.
Oh how many haue I seene rise in Courte of nothing to great matters, and offices, and this not through their painefull seruice, but altogether by meanes of their deceipt and flatteries they vsed: not exalted also for theyr merites, but onely by a subtill meanes and pollicie they had, to drawe water to their Mill: nor for any good conscience they had, but onely for theyr great diligence vsed in their practises. And all this not without the preiudice of others, but rather to the great hurt and vtter vndoing and ruine of theyr Neighbour: and not for any bountie they had to giue liberally, but a greedy and couetous a desire to get: not for any needefull businesse, but to haue those that are superfluous: and not for to relieue the poore and needie, but onely to satisfie their insatiable apetites: and in fine, their account cast, wee haue seene after theyr death their goods confiscated, their seruants dispersed, and gon away, and their Children vtterly vndone.
So that in briefe, there was no more memorie of them in this world, and GOD graunt also that in the other life their soules were not for euerdamned.
Courtyers may easilie with their fauour and credite attaine vnto great possessions, as the Iudges may also in robbing, the counsellers in pleading, and maintaining naughtie causes, the captaines in powling the Prince of the Souldyers wages, the Merchaunts in their false weights and measures, and their Brokers, in telling lyes out of all measure. But in the end of their journy & pilgrimage, they may be assured that the soules of the Fathers shall not only be damned in hell, but the goods shall bee taken from their Children. And also that that is truely and iustly gotten by the honest industry and trauell of the man, with a good zeale and holie intent, and to a good and iust ende: it is written that it shall bee of long continuance, & by the good permission of GOD, & prayers of the people, it shall also prosper and increase.
For the true gotten goods, atchieued by the sweat and labour of man, GOD doth alwayes prosper and augment. And therefore continuing our matter, I say that the princes officers ought to determine with themselues, to bee vpright in all their actions and doings, and aboue all, true & iust of their words: which so performing, they shall be sure to be beloued of all, not alone of them that passe vnder their Lee, but euen also of those whom they haue denyed fauour. And [Page 724] also they need not to beafraid to speak boldly in all places where they come, besides that they shalbe reuerenced of all men. Where to the contrarie, if he be a lyer, a babbler, & dissembler, there are few that wil feare them, much lesse loue them, and least of all do them reuerence, or honour. And although wee cannot denie, but that these officers of the Courte, and other men of authoritie be wayted vpon, visited, accompanyed, reuerenced, and honoured of diuerse sortes of men: yet it were a follie for vs to belieue, that their traine and attendaunts doe them all that honour and reuerence, for any desire they haue to doe them any seruice: but only they vse all that curtesy and capping, to get themselus & their suites quickly dispatched. And this to be true, we see it daily by experience.
For, when these suters haue at chiued their suite and desyre, they doe not onely leaue off, and giue ouer to accompanie him, and to attend vpon him: but moreouer, they get them home, without eyther thanking of him, or once taking their leaue of him.
If all those that haue Function, or Office of estate or dignitie, (hauing charge of the dispatch of great and weightie matters, beeing also Lyers and dissemblers in their doings) knew the yll reports that goe of them, and how they condemn their corrupt and naughtic consciences: me thinketh it impossible (if they bee not altogether gracelesse) but they must needs eyther change condition and estate, or else quite giue vp their rooms and offices. For they are in euery mans mouth called Bablers, liers, dissemblers, traitors, perjurers, miserable, auaricious, and vicious. And yet a worser thing then all this, and that is: whilest they liue, a thousand complain of them: and after they are dead and buried, they take vp their bones out of the graue, to hang them vp vpon a gibbet. For thus saith the olde prouerbe: Such life, such ende. So as we may say, that to these officers aboue recited, resteth nothing but only these goodly titles. And herevnto we may adde also, that Officers of like conditions to them, need not to haue any to accuse them, neyther yet to punish them. For a time will come one day, that they will plunge themselues so deepe into a Sea of troubles, that it cannot be chosen but they must needs at last drown, and vtterly perish, or at the least bee driuen into the hauen of their greatest Enemyes: so that they shall carrie the burden of their owne wickednes, and bee condignely chastised with their owne follie.
Therefore I pray all those that shall read these writings of mine, for to obserue them in their heart, and imprint them well in minde: beeing a matter of such Moralitie and wisdome, that it can hardly be vnderstood of anie, but of such as first haue had some proofe thereof.
Helius Sparthianus writeth, that there was somtimes a Senator in Rome called Lucius Torquatus, who was a tyrant, a dissembler, a great lyer, and very seditious, deuising onely to set discord between the Emperor Tytus and the people: who beeing many times complained vpon vnto Titus hee aunswered them thus: I pray you good people let no man seeke to reprooue him, perswade him, threaten, nor punish him: For he is so wicked and peruerse in all things, that I trust in the Gods one day his owne naughty and crooked condition, shall make reuenge and satisfaction of all the mischiefes hee hoth done mee: which was a wonderfull thing in this noble prince, that for an iniurie of such great importance as that was, hee would haue no other reuēge of him, but referre all to that he hoped to see by his own yll nature. And sure the matter well considered, hee had good reason to doe it.
[Page 725] For a wicked person is of this condition, that after hee hath once begun to do euill, he neuer ceaseth to do worse, (if hee be not reclaimed by some honest man, vntill such time as vnwares not looking to himselfe) he vtterly falleth to ruineand perdition. So that we may aptly compare an ill man, to a cā dle, which after it is once light, it neuer leaueth burning, till it haue made an end of it selfe. In great and weightie matters somtimes, such as haue the dispatching of thē, are wont to speake one word for another, & also to make some fainte promises to their suiters, not in respect to lye to them, nor deceiue them: but to prolong them longer in suit, to increase their gaine the more. Which I must say, they ought not to do, much lesse once to think it. When the Fauoured Courtyer or Officer of the prince is moued in any matter by the suter, let him consider well if it bee any thing that may displease the Prince, bee it neuer so little: For they must take great heed that they tell not Princes nor theyr Seruants any thing that they know may be displeasant to their eares: but only that that shall be both pleasaunt to the eare, profitable to the purse, and therwithal, that it be true and necessary to be told and looked to. For there is no greater destruction to the Commonweale, then to bring false reports vnto the K: of his affaires.
It is one of the greatest kinds of treason that can be, for a Prince to disclose the secrets of his heart to his Fauoured Courtyer, and for him againe to tell the Prince nothing but Lyes and tales.
How great a friend soeuer the Prince be to his Fauoured Courtyer, yet the beloued courtyer ought not to presume to aduaunce himselfe to tell, or make his Prince belieue one thing for an other. For the matter afterwards discouered, and the truth knowne, it shal not bee ynough for him in his excuse, to tell the Prince that hee made him belieue so, onely to satisfie his friend. For the King may iustly tell him, that it is but an excuse, and that hee meant no other but to deceiue him. For princes eares and conditions are so delicate, that I am bolde to admonish thē that are his familiars, and beloued of him, that they endeauour themselues alwayes to speake (with all humble duty and reuerence) that that is true, yea though in secret it pleaseth the Prince to be merry with them.
This is euer true, he that is a friend of veritie, is also of iustice: and hee that is a friend of iustice, is also of the common weale: and he that is a friend of the common weale, is euer indued with a good conscience: and he that hath a good conscience, consequently is of a good life, he that is of a good life, is also of a good fame, and beloued of all. Albeit we cannot deny, but that his enemies will euer speake euill of him: yet wee may say also, that they can neuer hurt nor condēne him, but rather hee should be counted a foole of all men, that will goe about or seek to be his enemy, who is honest in his doings, true in his wordes, modest in his behauior, beloued, and well thought of of all. Therfore he putteth himselfe into a great perill, that dare make himselfe a companion, and fellow in doings with a wise & vertuous man: For he must thinke, that accō panying with such a man, he accompanieth not his person alone, but also the vertues that raigne in him: and if hee doe repugne and gainesay reasonable things, hee shall straight shew himselfe to come of a wicked race, and to bee plunged and rooted in all malice.
Now to the end we may leaue nothing behind, that may serue to aduise and counsell this our fauoured courtier. I say also, that there are many other in fauour with the Prince, that oft times do procure the Prince to giue [Page 726] offices of dignitie, and realtie of the Realme, sometimes to their kinsfolks, otherwhiles to their friends, and afterwards to their seruants also, which perhaps are so vnmeete and vnworthy for them, that neyther their merites shall deserue to haue them, nor their knowledge and experience also fit, for so weighty an administration: And they do not procure these offices for them, for that they are wise and capable: but onely to aduance them aboue others, and because they are very troublesome and importunate. I am sorry to write it, and much more to see it, that offices are not giuen now for the benefite of the Commonwealth, but to recompence those of whome the fauoured Courtier hath receyued pleasure, or else to satisfie the importunacie of his seruants of his owne house.
But by processe of time it might happen (by meanes of their skillesse rule) that the king would take from them altogether their offices, or remoue them from one place to another, although they were neuer well setled in a towne, and commodiously: And being the Princes pleasure to do this, the wise and beloued Courtier must take heede, he doe not contrary the king, much lesse take vpon him to defend the ill gouernment of those officers, hoping therby to come to greatter honour: For it were lesse hurt for him, the officer lost his estate and office, then he his credite and reputation. Therefore those in fauour and authoritie ought to content themselus with the Prince, the seruāts with their masters, and the parents and kinsfols with the Princes officers, for that they procured them these offices at the Kings hands, with the ill wills of many: without that they further prease, and importune them, to suborne their faults: for after that the doings of these worthy officers be once discouered to be naught and corrupted, it is impossible by any meanes to make them good before the prince, with whom all the meanes the parents and kinsfolkes of such persons can make, cannot steade them to bring them to their first honour by their owne folly lost.
And now to end this our present volume of the fauoured Courtier, I do assure all the beloued Courtiers, that if God shall find purity in their soules, the Common weale iustice in theyr owne house, & the king troth in their mouthes, and fidelity in their hearts, the good and honest men grace in their fauour, and that the ill and wicked boast themselues no more of their authority and office, and that the poor shall praise them for their good works and the King also finde them faithfull seruants: I will at this present with mine owne hand giue them such faith and assurance, that they shall neede neuer to feare that God will forsake them, nor that men can hurt them, & that they shall neuer bee detected of any infamy, ouerthrown by any misfortune, neither put out of fauour and credit with their prince at any time.
HERE FOLLOWETH CERTAINE OTHER LETTERS, WRITTEN BY Marcus Aurelius. Selected out of the Spanish Copie, not written in the French Tongue.
CHAP. I. Of the huge Monster seene in Scicilie in the time of Marcus Aurelius, and of the Letters hee wrote with bloud vpon a gate.
IN the yeare of the foundation of Rome 720. and xlii, of the age of Marcus Aurelius, and two yeares before hee tooke possession of the empire, the twenty day of August, about the going downe of the Sunne, in the Realme of Scicill, in the City of Palermo (a port of the sea) there chanced a thing perillous to them, that saw it then, and no lesse dreadfull to those which shall heare it now. Whiles they of Palermo were celebrating a great feast with much ioye, that they had vanquished the Nauy of the Numedians, the Pirates diuiding their bootie, were preuented by the Magistrates of the City, who cō maunded the whole spoyle to be laide vp till the warres were finished: for such was the Law of the Isle: And truly it was a iust law: for oftentimes the onely let why the peace is not made betweene Princes, is because there wanteth riches to satisfie the damage done in wars.
When all the people were returned home vnto their houses to Supper (for it was in the Summer) there appeared an huge Monster in the Citie in this forme. Hee seemed to be of the length of three cubites, his head was balde, so that his skul did appeare Hee had no eares, saue onely two holes in the necke, whereby men iudged that hee heard: he had two writhen hornes like a Goate, his right arme was longer then his left, his [Page 728] hands were much like the feete of horses, without throte, his shoulders and his head were both of one height, his shoulders shone as doeth the scales of fishes, his brest was all rough of haire. his Face in all things, was much like vnto a man, saue that hee had but one Eye, which was in the middest of his fore-head.
In his Nose there was but one nosethrill. From the middle downwards, there was nothing seen, because it was all couered: he sate on a charyot with fowre wheeles, which was drawn with fowre beasts: That is, two Lyons before, and two Beares behind. No man can tell of what wood the Charriot was made. In fashion it differed nothing from those which other men do accustomably vse.
Within this Chariot stood a great Chauldron with eares, wherein the Monster was, wherefore it could not be seene but from the middle vpward, It wandred a great space in the Cittie, from one gate to another, casting out sparkes of fire.
The feare and terror hereof was so great throughout all the Cittie, that some Women with childe were with great daunger deliuered, and others beeing weake and fainte hearted, fell downe dead.
And all the people, both men and women, great and small ranne to the Temples of Iupiter, Mars, and Februa, with dolefull clamours and cryes, making their importunate prayers.
At the same time, all these Rouers were lodged in the Gouernours Pallace of the Cittie, whose name was Solyno, borne at Capua, where also the riches was kept.
After the Monster had beene in all patts of the Cittie (or in the most part thereof) it came to the pallace where the Pyrates were, and cut one of the Lyons eares off, and with the bloud therof wrote these Letters vppon the pallace gate, which was shut. R. A. S. P. I. P.
These Letters were of diuers men diuersly interpreted: so that the interpretations were moe then the letters. And in the end a woman-prophetesse greatly esteemed for her science (vnto whome God had giuen this secrete knowledge) opened the true meaning of these Letters, saying: R. signifieth Reddite, A aliena, S, sivultis, P. propria, I. in Pace, P. possidere. Which altogether is to say: Render vnto others that which is theirs, if you in quyet will possesse your owne. Truly the pyrates were wonderfully afrayd of this sudden commaundement, and he Woman was highly commended for her exposition.
This being done, the Monster went the same night out of the City, vnto a high hill called Iamicia, & there stood for the space of 3 dayes in the sight of the City, the Lions with terrible voyces roaring, the Beares with no lesse fearefull cries raging, and finally, the monster most dreadful flames casting. During all this time there was neither bride seene in the aire, nor beast in the fields. And the people offered such great sacrifices vnto their Gods, that they brake the veines of their handes and feet, and offered the bloud therof to see if they coulde appease theyr wrathes.
These three dayes being passed, there appeared in the Element a maruellous darke cloud, which seemed to darken the whole earth, and therewith it beganne to thunder and lighten so terrible, that sundry houses fell to the ground, and infinite men ended their liues.
And last of all there came such a flame of fire from the Monster, that it burned both the Pallace where the Rouers were: and all other thinges that were therein, so that all was consumed with fire: yea the very stones themselues. The [Page 729] tempest was so great, that there fell aboue two thousand houses, and there dyed more then tenne thousand persons. In this place where this Monster was on the toppe of the Hill the Emperour edified a sumptuous temple to the God Iupiter in perpetuall memory of the same. Whereof afterwards Alexander Emperour, hauing warre with the people of the Isle, made a strong Castle.
CHAP. II. Of that which chaunced vnto Antigonus a Citizen of Rome, in the time of Marcus Aurelius.
AT the same time when this woefull chaunce happened in the Isle, there dwelled a Romane in the same City called Antigonus, a man of a noble bloud, and well strucken in age, who with his wife and daughter were banished two yeares beefore from Rome.
The cause of this banishment was this: There was an olde laudable custome in Rome instituted by Quintus Cincinnatus the Dictator, that two of the most auncient Senators should go with the Censour newly created in the moneth of December, to visite al Rome, and to examine seuerally euery Romane, declaring vnto him the 12. Tables, and also the particular Decrees of the Senate, demaunding of of them, if they knew any man that had not obserued these lawes: and if they did, they should enforme the Senate thereof. And so euery man should receyue condigne punishment according to his offence. But they neuer punished before they warned, for they vsed the one yeare to admonish them of their faultes, and the next yeare if they did not amend to punish them, or else to banish them: These were the wordes of the Law in the fift Table, and third Chapter.
The sacred Senate doth ordaine the happy people do consent, and the ancient Colonies doe allow, that if men as men in one yeare doe trespas, that men as men for that yeare doe winke at them: but if they as euill men doe not amend, that then the good as good men doe punish them.
Moreouer, the Law sayd, the first faults are dissembled withall, because they are committed through weake ignorance: but the second shall bee punished, because they proceede of negligence and malice.
This inquiry was made in the moneth of December, because in the moneth of Ianuary following the Officers of Rome were elected.
And it was reason the good from the euill should bee knowne, to the entent they might know who merited to haue them, & who deserued to go without them.
The chiefe cause why this Antigonus his Wife and his Daughter were banished was this:
It was ordained by the eleuenth Emperour of Rome Augustus, that no man should bee so hardy as to pisse neere the dores of any temple. And Caligula the fourth Emperour commaunded, that no woman should giue or iell any Letters of Witchcraftes to hang about the peoples neckes, to deliuer them from the Feuer quartaine.
And Cato the Censour made a Law, that neyther man nor mayde should talke together at the Conduites, where they vsed to fetch water, nor at the riuer where they washed their cloths, nor at the bakhouse where [Page 730] they baked their Bread: because all the wanton youth of Rome ordinarily haunted one of these two places.
It chaunced when the Censors and Consulles visited the warde of mount Celio, Antigonus who dwelled thereby, was accused to haue pissed against the walls of the temple of Mars: and his Wife likewise was complained of, for selling of writings to cure the Feauers: and his daughter was noted for one that commonly haunted the conduits, riuers, and bake-houses, to talke with young-men: the which in those daies was a great shame to maidens of Rome.
The Censours therefore, seeing the euill president which they found in the house of Antigonus at that time registred also before, and that he had been gently thereof admonished: banished him vnto the Isle of Scicilie, for as long time as it shold please the Senate. And like as in sumptuous and goodly Buildings, one stone falleth not without shaking of another, so it chaunceth likewise to men. For commonly one mischaunce commeth not alone, but that another immediately followeth.
I speake it for this purpose, for that Antigonus was not onely depriued of his Honour, goods, and countrey, but also by an Earth-quake, his house fell downe to the ground, and slewe his dearely beloued daughter.
Whilest both these mischaunces hapned, I meane the Monster of Scicily, and of the banishment of Antigonus from Rome, Marke the Emperour was in the warres against the Argonantes: where hee receiued a letter from Antigonus of his banishment: whereof the Emperour was maruellous sorrie, as it appeareth by the aunswere which hee sent to comfort him.
CHAP. III. How Marcus Aurelius sought the wealth of his people, and how his people loued him.
THe second yeare that Marke was elected Emperour the xlv. of his age, when hee returned from the conquest of the Germanes, and the Argonants, from whence hee brought great riches and treasures to the Romane Empire, he to rest himselfe, and to appoint his men lay at Salon, vntill such time as the Romanes had prepared all thinges conuenient for such a glorious triumph: There was one thing done which neuer was seene in Rome: for the same day of his triumph, his sonne Comodus by the assent of the whole people of Rome was chosen Emperour after the death of his Father.
Hee was not chosen at the request of his Father, for he was against it: saying that the Empire ought not to bee giuen for the merites of those which are deade, but hee should bee chosen for his owne good workes beeing aliue.
This Emperour sayde oftentimes that then Rome should bee vndone, when the Election shall be taken from the Senate, and when the Emperour shall enherite the Empire by patrimonie.
Now to come to our matter, the Emperour being at Salon, trauelled much to bring his men into Rome in good order: and Rome was more careful for to receiue him triumphantly, [Page 731] and as it appertained to such a great conquest.
He was meruellously wel-beloued of all the Empire, and he alwayes studyed the wealth of his People, and they were alwayes most faithfull in his seruices. So that sundrie times there was a question moued in the Senate: which of these two things was better, beloued: Either the Emperour of his people, or the people of their Emperour.
So that one day they appoynted two Iudges in this case: The one was the Embassadour of the Parthes, and the other was the Embassadour of the Rhodes, and the information was giuen on both parts in writing.
The Emperour alleadged the great profite he had done to the Commonwealth, and the many euills which hee had deliuered it from.
On the other part the Senators declared the good deeds they had done, in his absence, and the great loue they bare him alwayes in his presence.
So likewise the Emperour another day moued an other question to the Senate, affirming that it was more glorie for him to haue such subiects, then for them to haue such an Emperour.
The Senate denyed it, affirming that the comforte was greater which they had of him, then that which hee could haue of them. And in this wise the Emperour gaue the glorie to his people, and the people gaue the glory to their Emperour.
Thus merily this matter was reasoned of againe.
It was a pleasaunt thing to heare the reasons wherewith each party proued his purpose. For the good Emperour attributed the whole Land, for a perpetuall memorie vnto the people, because of the great obedience, diligent seruice, and faithfull loue, which hee had found in them. And on the other parte the Fortunate people, gaue the glory vnto the Emperour, for his clemencie, and mercifulnesse, for his vprighteous gouerning, for his honestie of liuing, and for his stoute courage in conqueting.
It was a thing worthy of noting, to beholde, how the people gaue the honour to their Emperour, and how the Emperour attributed the praise to his people.
These matters were deliuered in trust to the straunge Embassadors, to the ende that all people might learne to obey their Princes, and also Princes learne to loue theyr people: only to this end, that by such worthy examples (as it is reason) the better sorte should be encouraged, and the euill discomforted.
Thus the Noble Emperour prepared all things in readinesse, with his Captaine and Captiues, for his Entring, and the people of Rome made as great preparation for to receyue him.
It was a maruellous thing for to see what people came forth of Rome to meete him, and what infinit number were at Salon to behold him. They that were at Salon had their eyes there and their hearts at Rome, and they that were at Rome had their hearts at Salon in such sort, that their hearts dazeled with that they saw, and their heartes also reioyced for that they hoped to see.
For there is no greater torment to the heart, then when it is deferred from that which it greatly desired.
CHAP. IIII. How at the intercession of many which the Empresse had sent, The Emperour graunted his daughter Lucilla license to sport her selfe at the feasts.
YOu shal vnderstand that the Romanes vsed alwayes in the moneth of Ianuary to permit that their Emperours should triumph. And it chā ced that at that time when they prepared for the triumph, Faustine the Empresse caused diuers noble Barrons to demaund licence of the Emperour, that her daughter might come from her mistresse, where shee was taught, to the feasts. Her name was Lucilla, who was elder then the prince Comodus her brother.
Shee had a goodly iesture, she was well made in the body, and deerely beloued of her mother, whom shee resembled not onely in beauty, but also in liuing. Though the request seemed to be reasonable, and those that made it his Counsellours and great about him, and thogh him whom they asked was the father, and she that demaunded it was the mother, and shee for whom this request was made was the daughter: yet the Emperour would not graunt it, but halfe against his will.
Faustine when shee had obtained licence was exceeding glad, & so soon as shee might possible, shee brought her daughter home vnto the Pallace: And when the day of the great Feast and solemne triumph came, the young Damosell perceyuing her selfe at large without any Gouernour, trusting in the Innocency of her selfe, esteemed not the malice of any other man: but reioyced with those that reioyced, talked with them that talked, beheld thē that beheld her, and shee thought because shee meant euill to no man, that no man willed euill to her.
In those dayes it was as great an offence for a maide of Rome, to laugh in the company of men: as it was for a woman of Grecia to be taken in adultery with a Priest. So greatly was the honesty at that time of the Romane Matrones regarded, and the lightnes of the maydens was so detested, that they gaue more sharper punishment for one offence done openly, then for two which were committed in secret. Amongst all other things, from these seuen the Romane Matrones did maruellously refraine, that is to say, from talking much at feasts, from greedie eating among strangers: From drinking wine whiles they were whole: from talking in secret with any man: from lifting vp their eyes in the Temples: from gazing much out at the windows, and from wandring abroad without their husbands: for the woman that was apprehended in any of these things, was alwayes after counted as one defamed.
There are many things suffered in persons of mean estate, which cannot be endured in those of higher degree: For Ladies of high renowne cannot keepe the reputation of their estates, vnlesse they are maruellous circumspect in all their doings.
All thinges that degenerate from their kind, deserue blame, but the dishonest woman meriteth infamy. If Ladies will be counted Ladies indeed let them know how much they excell others in riches, so much lesse license haue they then other to goe gadding in the streetes: For of a surety the aboundance of their riches, and the liberty of the persons, should not bee a [Page 733] spur to prouoke them to gad abroad, but rather a bridle to keepe them within.
All this is spoken for this cause that Lucilla, as a mayde tender and young, and Faustine her mother, as one not very old, sometimes on foot and sometimes riding: sometimes openly, and now and then secrerly: sometimes with company, and at other times alone: sometimes by day, and oft times by night: vsed to foote the streetes of Rome, to view the fields of Vulcane, to sport them by the riuer of Tyber: to gather the fruites in the Orchardes of Saturne, to suppe at the conduites of Nero, and such other vagaries they vsed, The which thinges though their age did desire, and their idlenes allure them vnto: yet the grauity which Ladies ought to haue should withdraw them from it.
I will speake one thing, to the ende that other Ladies and Gentlewomen may take warning thereby: which is, that I cannot tell which was greater, eyther the small discretion which moued Faustine and Lucilla to wander in such sort about the streetes, or the audacity that euill men tooke thereby to talke of their persons, and doubt of their honesties.
The keeping of women in their houses, is like vnto a bridle to holde still euill mens tongues. The woman that is a strayer abroad, putteth her good name in much danger. Of truth it were better for a woman neuer to be borne, then to liue with an euill name. Among all the families of the Ancient Romanes, that of the Cornelians was counted most fortunate, for among the men there was neuer any found a coward, nor among the women any that was defamed.
The Historiographers say, that there was one woman of that linage onely, for beeing light in her behauiour, was by the handes of her owne parents executed, and put to death. Surely, it was well done of the Romanes, to the intent that the lightnesse of one woman alone, should not defame the whole family. Where as is noblenesse and honesty: there the matters that touch the honour, ought not to tarry whiles they bee remedied by iustice: but from that man or woman which among all hath lost his good name, from the number of the liuing he ought also to be taken. It is not sufficient for one to himselfe to be good: but it is requisite that hee giue no occasion to others to iudge him to be euill.
All the losses of temporall goods that chance vnto men in this life, ought not to be compared with a little blemish of a mans good name. The man that hazardeth for a trifle his good name in this world, shal at a bū dred shootes scarsly shoote one right. And contrariwise, that man that hath lost his honesty, and that esteemeth not the reputation of his person, truly from him we shall neuer see any good thing proceed.
Now the Emperour like vnto a wise shippe-master, fearing after the great calmes some tempestuous storme: seeing the lightnesse of his Daughter, and vanitie of the Mother (I meane in the time of this great mirth and gladnesse) feared least any infamy should ensue vnto these two Ladies.
And for a surety hee doubted not without a cause: for it is an infallible rule of enuious Fortune for to giue vs in many yeares a little prosperity, to the entent that afterwardes suddenly and at vnawares shee may bring vs into some great aduersity.
By experience dayly we see, that the Sea is seldome times calme: but immediately there followeth some perillous Tempest. The extreame [Page 734] heate of the day doth prognosticate, that terrible thunder is the Euentide. I meane, when Fortune doth flatter vs with her golden pilles: it is a token that shee intendeth to catch vs in her snares.
The Mylner before the banke broken repayreth the dammes. The husband man before it raineth, thacketh his house, fearing the snow and raine that is to come.
So likewise the sage man ought to cōsider that during this life he hath prosperitie but by leaue and aduersity, as by patrimony.
Marcus Aurelius among all other men was hee that knew how to enioy prosperity, and also to preuaile of aduersity. Though fortune gaue him much prosperitie, yet he neuer trusted therein, nor for any troubles that euer he receyued in this life, he was at any time abashed.
CHAP. V. Of the sharpe words which Marcus Aurelius spake to his wife, and to his daughter.
WHen the triumphes before named were finished, this good Emperour then beeing willing to vnburden his heart, and to aduise Faustine, and to teach the yong damosell his daughter, and to the end, that no man should heare it, he called them a part, and sayde vnto them these words.
I am not content Faustine with that thy daughter did, nor yet with that which thou hast done, being her mother.
The daughters if they will bee counted for good Children, must learne to obey their fathers: and the mothers if they will be counted good mothers, must learn to bring vp their daughters well.
When the mother is honest, and the daughter shamefast, the father is excused in giuing counsell.
It is great shame to the Father being a man, that the Mother (beeing a woman) should chastife his sonne. And this is a great reproach to the mother, that the daughter should bee chastised by the hands of any man.
There was a Law enacted amongst the Rhodians, that neyther the Fathers should haue to do with the daughters, nor the mothers with the Sonnes, but the men vsed to bring vp the men, and the women the women. And in such wise, that they abiding all in one house, it seemeth vnto the fathers, that they had no daughters, and vnto the mothers that they had no sonnes.
Oh Rome, Rome, I bewaile thee not to see thy streets vnpaued, nor to see thy houses so decayed, nor to see thy battlements so fallen downe, nor thy timber hewed downe, not for the diminishing of the inhabitants: for all this Time bringeth, and Time taketh away, but I weepe for thee againe, to see thee vnpeopled of good-fathers and vnprouided in the nourishing of their children.
Rome beganne to decay, when the discipline of Sonnes and Daughters was enlarged, and that their bridle was set at libertie. For there is now such boldnes in Boyes, and so little shamefastnes in Gyrles, with dishonestie of the Mothers: that whereas one Father sufficed for xx. Sonnes, and one Mother for xx. daughters: now xx. fathers dare scarcely vndertake to bring vp well one Sonne, and xxx. Mothers one daughter.
I say this to you Faustine, you remember not how you are a Mother: [Page 735] For, you giue more libertie to your Daughter then ought to bee suffered And now Lucilla, remember not how you are a daughter: for you shew to haue more libertie then requireth for a young Maiden.
The greatest gift that the Gods haue giuen to the Matrones of Rome is, because that they are women, they keepe themselues close and secret, & because they are Romanes they are shamefast. The day when the women want the feare of the Gods secretlie, and shame of men openly beleeue me they shall either faile the world, or the world them.
The common wealth requireth it of great necessity, that the women which therein inhabite should bee as honest, as the Captaines valiant: for the Captaines going to warre defend them, and the women which abide at home conserue them. As now foure yeares passed you saw this great pestilence, and I demaunded then to haue account of the people, and I found that of a C. and xl. M. honest women lxxx. M. dyed, and of x. M. dishonest women, in a manner they scaped all: I cannot tell for which I should weep, eyther for the lacke that wee haue of the good and vertuous Women in our common wealth, or else for the great hurt and dammages that these euill and wicked women doe to the youth of Rome.
The fire that burneth in Mount Ethna, doth not so much endamage those that dwell in Scicill, as one euill woman doth within the walls of Rome.
A fierce beast and a perillous enemie to the Common wealth is an evill woman, for shee is of power to commit all euils, and nothing apt to doe any good. O how many realmes and Kingdomes reade wee of, which by the euill behauiours of one woman haue been lost, and to resist against them, there hath beene neede both of wisedome, perils, money, and force of many men.
The vices in a woman is as a green Reede, that boweth euery way: but the lightnes and dishonesty is as a dry Kyxe that breaketh, in such wise that the more euill they vtter, the more vnlikely is the amendment therof.
Beholde Faustine, there is no creature that more desireth honour, and worse keepeth it, then a Woman, and that this is true, wee see by Iustice, by Orations, by writing, and other Trauells, man getteth fame and renowm: but without it bee by flattering, and faire speaking, this houre by auncient wryters we can read of few women or none, which eyther by writing, reading, working with Needle, spinning, or by weauing, haue gotten them any great renowme.
But euen I say of one, so I say of another, certainly of diuers we reade, by keeping themselues closed in their houses, being well occupyed in their busines, temperate & modest in their wordes, faithfull to their Husbandes, well-ordered in theyr persons, peaceable with their Neighbours, and finally for beeing honest amongst their owne Familie, and shamefast amongst strangers, they haue obtained great renown in their life time, and left perpetuall memorie of them after their death.
I will tell you an ancient history as profitable to restraine your vices, as it did then augment vertues, which is this: The Realme of the Lacedemonians saieth Plato: was a long time as dissolute through the vnthriftines of the women-kinde, as infamed by the vices of the men: So that of all Nations they were both called and esteemed barbarous, what time Greece of the Phylosophers, was called The Mother of Phylosophers.
Lycurgus, a moste wise Phylosopher in knowledge, and a right iust king concerning his gouernāce, partly [Page 736] with his doctrine very profitable, and partly with his life most pure, ordayned Lawes in the said Realm, whereby hee expelled all vices, and planted all vertues. I cannot tell which of these two were most happyest, the King hauing so obedient people, or else the Realme to haue so worthie a King?
Amongst other Lawes for women, hee enacted one worthy of high commendations: the wich commaunded that the Father which dyed, should giue nothing to his daughter: and an other, that neyther liuing nor dying, hee should giue any Money to marrie her withall: to the intent that none should take her for her goods, but only for her vertues: and not for her beautie, but for her good qualities: whereas now some are forsaken, because they be poore, so then they abode vnmarryed, because they were vicious.
Oh Time worthie to bee desired: when maydens hoped not to be marryed with their Fathers goods, but by the vertuous works of their owne persons: this was the time called The golden Worlde: when neither the daughter feared to be disinerited by the father in his life, nor the Father to dye sorrowfull, for leauing her without dowrie at his death.
Oh Rome, treble accursed bee hee that first brought Gold into thy house, and cursed be he that first beganne to hoord vp treasures. Who hath made Rome to be so rich of Treasures, and so poor of vertues? who hath caused noble-men to marry the Plebeyans, and to leaue the daughters of Senatours vnmaried? what hath made that the rich mans Daughter is demaunded vnwilling, and the daughter of a poor man none will desire: What hath caused that One marryeth a Foole, with 500. marks, rather then a wise woman with ten thousand vertues: then I will not say that in this case the flesh vanquished the flesh: but I say that vanitie is ouercome of malice. For, a couetous person will now-adayes rather take a wife that is rich and foule, then one that is poore and faire?
Oh vnhappy woman that bringeth forth children, and more vnhappie be the daughters that are born, the which to take in marriage no man desireth: neyther for the bloud of their predecessors, nor the fauor of their friends, nor the worthinesse of their persons, nor the puritie of their liues.
Oh wicked world, where the daughter of a Good-man without money shal haue no mariage: but it was not wont to bee so. For, in the olde time when they treated of Marriages: first they spake of the persons, and afterward of the goods: not as they do at this present in this vnhappie time. For now they speak first of the goods, and last of all of the persons.
In the said Golden-world, first they spake of the vertues, that the person was endued with, and when they were marryed, as it were in sporte, they would speake of the Goods.
When Camillus triumphed ouer the Gaules, he had then but one sonne, and he was such a one that his deserts merited great praise: and for the renowm of his Father, diuers Kings desired to haue him to their sonnes, and diuers Senators desired to haue him to their sonnes in law. This yong man, being of the age of thirty years, and the Father at 60. was importunately styrred by his naturall friendes, and desires of strange kings, for to marie him: but alwayes the olde Camille withstood the counsell of his friends, and the importunitie of the straungers.
When it was demaunded, why he determined not vpon some Marriage for his sonne: sith thereby should ensue the quyet life of the man, and the ioy and comforte of himselfe, in his age: He aunswered them thus,
[Page 737] I will not marry my Sonne, because some offer mee rich daughters, some noble of lynage, some young, and some fayre. But there is none hath sayde to mee, I giue you my vertuous daughter.
Certainely Gamille merited triumph, for that hee did, and deserued eternall memory for that he said.
I spake to you Faustine, all these wordes, because I see you leade your daughter to Theaters and playes, and bring her into the capitol you put her to the keeping of the Sword players: you suffer her to see the Tumblers, and yet doe not remember that shee is young, and you not too aged, you goe into the streetes without licence, and sport you by the riuers: I find no villany therein, nor thinke that your daughter is euill but I say it, because you giue occasion that she should not bee good.
Beware, beware Faustine, neuer trust to the race of flesh of young people: nor haue no confidence in old folkes, for there is no better way then to flye the occasion of all things.
For this intent the virgins vestals are closed vp betweene the walles, to eschew the occasions of open places, not to bee more light and foolish, but to bee more sad and vertuous, flying occasions. The young shall not say, I am young and vertuous: nor the olde shall not say, I am olde and broken: for of necessity the drie flaxe will burne in the fire, and the greene flagge smoke in the flame.
I say, though a man be a Diamond set among men, yet of necessity hee ought to bee quicke, and to melte as waxe in the heate among Women. Wee cannot deny that though the Wood bee taken from the fire, and the imbers quenched: yet neverthelesse the stones oftentimes remaine hote.
In likewise the flesh, though it bee chastised with hote and drie diseases, consumed by many yeares with trauell, yet concupiscence abideth still in the bones.
What neede is it to blaze the vertues, and deny our Naturalities? certainely there is not so olde a horse, but if hee see a Mare will neigh once or twice: there is no man so young nor old but let him see fayre young Damsels, eyther hee will giue a sigh, or a wish,
In all voluntary things I deny not but that one may bee vertuous: but in naturall thinges I confesse euery man to be weake. when you take the wood from the fire, it leaueth burning: when Sommer commeth, the colde winter ceaseth, when the sea is calme, the waues leaue their vehement motions: when the Sunne is set, it lightneth not the World. I will say then, and not before, the flesh wil cease to trouble vs, when it is layde in the graue: of the flesh wee are borne, in the flesh wee liue, and in the flesh wee shall dye: and therby it followeth, that our good life shall sooner end, then our fleshlie desires forsake vs: oftentime some wholesome flesh corrupteth in an euil Vessell, and good wine sometimes sauoureth of the foist. I say, though that the Workes of our life bee vertuous, yet shall wee feele the stench of the weake flesh,
I spake this, Faustine, sith that age cannot resist those hote apetites, how can the tender members of youth resist them? vnlesse you that are the Mother goe the right way, how should the Daughter that followeth you find it? The Romane Matrones, if that they will bring vppe their Daughters well, ought for to keepe and obserue these Rules, when they doe see that they would wander abroade, that they breake their legges, and if that they should bee gazing, then put out their eyes: and if they will [Page 738] listen, stop their eares: if they will giue or take, cut off their hands: if they dare speake, sowe vp their mouthes: if they will pretend any lightnes, burie them quicke: death ought to be giuen to an euill Daughter, in steade of a dowrie: for gyftes, giue her wormes, and for her house, a graue.
Take heed Faustine if you will haue much ioy of your daughter, take from her all the occasions wherby she shall be euil. To vnderset a house, behoueth diuers proppes: and if the principalls be taken away, it will fall downe: I say you women are so fraile, that with keepers, with great paine they can keepe themselues: and for a small occasion they will lose altogether.
Oh how many euill hath there bin, not for that they would be so, but because they followed such occasions, the which they ought to haue eschewed.
It is at my pleasure to enter into this battel but yet it is not in my power to attaine the victorie, it is for mee to enter into the Sea, yet it lyeth not in my hands to escape the perill: it is in the hands of a woman to enter into the occasion, and after that shee is therin, it is not in her power to escape from euill, nor to deliuer her from tongues.
Peraduenture Faustine, thou wilt say vnto mee, none can speake to your daughter Lucilla, vnlesse thou hearest it, nor see her but thou seest him, nor conuey her, but thou knowest where: nor make any appoyntment, without thy consent: and yet thou knowest, that those which will her euill, seeke with their tongues to dishonour her: and those that with their heartes loue her, speake only in their harts.
Wee loue in young bloud, in the spring time, and flourishing youth is a poyson, that forthwith spreadeth into euery vaine, it is an herbe that entreth into the entrailes, a swouning that incontinently mortifieth all the members and a pestilence that slaieth the hearts: and finally, it maketh an end of all vertues. I know not what I say: but I feele that which I would say, for I would neuer blaze loue with my tongue, except I were sore wounded therewith in my heart.
Ouid sayeth in his booke of the art of loue, Loue is I wot not what, it it commeth I know not from whence, who sent it I wot not, it engendreth I know not how: it is satisfied I know not wherewith: it is self, and I know not how, oft it slayeth, I know not wherefore: and finally, without breaking the flesh outwardly, loue taketh roote, and molesteth the heart inwardly. I know not what Ouid meaneth hereby, but I know when he sayde these words, he was as farre banished from himselfe, as I am at this time from my selfe.
O Faustine, they that loue together, vtter the secrets of their hearts by diuers wayes, and in sleeping they reason and speake by signes, they vnderstand each other. The many wordes outwardly declare small loue inwardly, and the seruent inward loue keepeth silence outward. The entrailes within embraced with loue, cause the tongue outward to be mute: hee that passeth his life in loue, ought to keepe his mouth close. And to the entent that you shall not thinke, that I speake Fables: I will prooue this by auncient histeries, we find anciently, that in the yeare cclxx. after the foundation of Rome, Etrasco a young Romane that was dumbe, and Verona a fayre Lady of the Latines which was dumb also: These two saw each other on the mount Celio at the Feastes, and there fell in loue together, and their hearts were as sore fixed and entangled in Loue, as their tongnes were tyed from speech.
[Page 739] It was a maruellous thing to see then, and fearefull to note now that this young Lady came from Salon to Rome: and he went from Rome to Salon, sundry times by the space of 30. yeares, without the knowledge of any person, and neuer spake together. It chanced at the last, that the husbande of the Lady Verona dyed, and the wife of Etrasco also, and then they discouered their loue, and treated a marriage betweene them.
And these two dumbe persons had issue a sonne of whom descended the noble lynage of our Scipions, which were more famous in the seates of Armes, then their Father and mother were troubled for want of words.
Then Faustine marke this thing, it had little auayled to haue cut out the tongues of the two dumbe persons to haue remedied their loue, and not to haue cut our their hearts.
And I shall tell you of Masinissa, a worthy knight of Numidie, and Sophonissa a famous Lady of Carthage, all onely by one sight as they saw each other on a Ladder, hee declareth his desire vnto her, and she knowing his lust, breaking the ores of feare, and lifting vp the anchors of shame, raysed incontinent the sayles of their hearts, and with the shippes of their persons they ioyned each to other, heere wee may see how the first sight of their eyes, the knowledge of their persons, the consent of their hearts, the copulation of their bodies, the decay of their estates, and the losse of their names, in one day, in one houre, in one moment, and in one steppe of a Ladder, were lost: What will you that I say more to this purpose? Doe you not know what Helen the Greeke and Paris the Troian of two straunge Nations, and of farre Countries, with the one onely sight in a Temple their willes were so knitte together, that hee tooke her as his Captiue, and shee abode his prisoner.
In Paris appeared but small sorce, and in Helene but small resistance: so that in a manner those two yong persons, the one procuring to vainquish, and the other in suffering to bee vanquished: Paris was the causer of his Fathers destruction, and both of their own deaths, losse and damage to both their Realmes, and slaunder to all the world. All this loue grew of one onely sight.
When great King Alexander would haue giuen Battell to the Amazones, the queene (captaine of them) no lesse faire then strong and vertuous, came to a Riuers-side: and the space of an houre each of them beheld the other, with their eyes, without vttering of any worde.
And when they returned to theyr Tents, their fiercenes was turned into sweete amorous words. When Pyrrus the faithfull defender of the Tharrentines, and renowmed king of the Epyrotes was in Italie, he came into Naples, and had not beene there but one day, but hee was enamoured of a faire lady named Gemelicia, of a high linage and greatly esteemed for her beautie, and the very same day she was gotten with childe, and shamed throughout all Italie, and cast out of the cittie: and after that she was deliuered of childe, she was slaine by one of her owne bretheren.
Also queene Cleopatra in the Prouince of Bythinia, in the wood Sechin, made a goodly banket to Marcus Anthonius her Louer, and though shee was not very honest of her selfe, yet had shee with her chast women. And thus the Banket endured a great parte of the night.
Now the wood being thicke, young damzels were not so wily to hide thē, but the yōg men Romains found them: so that of 60. daughters of the Senators 55. were goten with child among [Page 740] the thicke bushes, which thing made a great slaunder in the people, and augmented the infamy of Marcus Anthonius.
Thus as I haue shewed of a small number, I could say of many other. All men are not men, nor all women are not women. I speake it, because I would it should bee saide, let it touch them that it toucheth, and let them that come vnderstand me. There are som ships which are so light that they will sayle with a little winde. And there bee other some milles that will grinde with a little water. I say there bee some women so brickle, that as a glasse with a philip will breake, and will slippe with a little mire.
Tell mee Faustine, haue you suffered your daughter to speake but with her vncles, and keepe company but with her cousins? I say in this case, that the mother is in as much blame, as the daughter in perill.
Doe you not know, that the hote fire doth not forbeare the wood, bee it wet or drie: but in like manner it consumeth the hard stones.
Doe you not know that the extreame hunger causeth beasts to deuoure with their owne teeth the thing that was bredde in their entrals? Doe you not know, that the gods made a Law ouer all things, except ouer Louers, because they may not abide it: and doubtles much more then I haue sayde.
And diuers times mee thinkes I should fall downe, because I dare not weepe with mine eyes, yet I feele it inwardly in my heart. I would faine commune with thee in diuers things: Come I pray thee to Briette, to the entent that wee may speake together: And sith it hath pleased the Gods to take my child from mee that I loued so well, I would counsell with thee that art my louing friend. But fewe dayes passed, there came thither an Ambassadour from the Rhodes, to whom I gaue the most part of my horses: and from the farthest part of Spaine, there were brought me eight: of the which I send thee foure. I would they were such as might please thee: The Gods be thy safeguard, and send mee and my wise some comfort.
Marcus Aurelius right sorrowfull hath written this with his owne hand.
CHAP. VI. A Letter sent by Marcus Aurelius Emperour to Catullus Censorius, of the newes which were at that time in Rome.
MArcus the new Censor, to thee Catullus now aged, sendeth salutations. There are ten dayes past, that in the temple of God Ianus I receyued thy Letter: and I take the same God to witnesse, that I had rather haue seene thy person: Thou desiredst that my letters may belong but the shortnesse of time maketh mee to aunswere thee more briefly, then I would. Thou willest mee to giue thee knowledge of the newes here. Thereto I aunswere, that it were better to demaund, if there were any thing remayning here in Rome, or Italy, that is old: For now by our euill destinies, all that is good and olde, is ended: and new things which bee euill, now beginne: The Emperour, the Consull, the Tribune, the Senators, the Ediles, the Flamines, the Pretours and Centurions, all things be new saue the vertues which be old.
Wee passe the time in making new officers, in deuising new counsels, [Page 741] and in raysing new Subsidies. In such wise that there hath beene now more nouelties within these 4. yeares, then in times passed in 400. yeares: we now assemble together 300. to counsell in the Capitoll, and there wee bragge and boast, sweare and promise that wee will exalt the vertuous, and subdue the vitious, fauour the right, & not winke at the wrong, punish the euil, and reward the good, repaire old, and edifie new, plucke vices vp by the rootes, and to plant vertues, to amend the olde, and follow the good, reproue tyrants, and assist the poore: and when that wee are gone from thence, they that speake best words are often taken with the worst deedes.
O wicked Rome, that now a dayes hath such Senators, which in saying we will doe, we will doe, passe their I for & so euery man seeking his owne profit forgetteth the weale publike: Oftentimes I am in the Senate to beholde others as they regarde mee: and I do maruell much to heare the eloquence of their words, the zeale of iustice, and the iustification of their persons: and after that I come thence, I am ashamed to see their secret extortiōs, their damnable thoughts, and their euill workes.
And yet there is another thing of more maruell, and not to be suffered, that such persons as are most defamed and vse most wicked vices, with their most damnable intentions make their auowes to doe most extreame iustice. It is an infallible rule, and of humane malice most vsed: that hee that is most hardy for to committe greatest crimes, is most cruell to giue sentence against an other for the same offence.
Wee thinke that wee behold our owne faults, as through small nettes, which cause things to seeme the lesse: but we beholde the faultes of others in the water, that causeth them to seeme greater.
Oh how many haue I seene condemned by the Senate, for one small fault, done in all their life: and yet they themselues commit the same euery houre.
I haue read in the time of King Alexander the great, there was a renowmed Pyrate on the Sea, called Dyonides, the which robbed and spoiled al the shipping that hee could get: and by commaundement of this good King Alex: there was an armie sent foorth to take him. And when he was taken and presented to K. Alexander, the King sai [...]e vnto him, Shew me Dyonides, why dost thou so spoyle on the Sea, that no ship can sayle out of the East into the west for thee? The pyrate aunswered, and sayde: if I spoyle the Sea, why doest thou Alexander rob both the Sea and Land also? O Alexander, because I fight with one shippe in the Sea, I am called a thiefe: and because thou robbest with two hundreth ships on the Sea, and troublest all the world with 200000. men, thou art called an Emperour.
I sweare vnto thee Alexander, if Fortune were as fauourable to me, and the Gods as extreame against thee: they would giue mee thine Empyre, and giue thee my little shippe: and then peraduenture I should bee a better king then thou art, and thou become a worse Thiefe then I am.
These were high words, and well receyued of Alexander: and of truth to see if his wordes were correspondent to his promises, hee made him of a pyrate a great captaine of an Armie, and hee was more vertuous on Land, then he was cruell on the Seas. I promise thee Catullus, Alexander did right well therein, and Dyonides was to bee praised greatly for that hee had saide. Now-adayes in Italie they that robbe openly are called Lords, and they that robbe priuilie, are commonly called [Page 742] theeues. In the Annales of Liuius I haue read, that in the second troublous warre punicke, between the Romanes and the Carthagenians, there came an Ambassadour Lusitaine sent from Spaine, and to treate of accord of peace.
When hee came to Rome, he proued before the Senate, that sith hee entred into Italy, he had bin ten times robbed of his goods: and whiles he was at Rome, he had seene one of them that robbed him, hang vpanother that had defended him.
Hee seing so euill a deed, and how the theefe was saued without iustice: as a desperate man tooke a cole, and wrote vpon the gybet as followeth. O gybet, thou art planted among theeues, nourished among theeues, squared of theeues, wrought of theeues, and hanged full of Innocents, with innocents.
The originall of these wordes are in the history of Liuius, where the whole Decade was written with blacke inke, and these words with redde vermelion.
I cannot tell what other newes I should send thee, but that euery thing is so new and so tender, and it ioyned with so euill sement, that I feare mee, all will fall suddenly to the ground. I tell thee that some are suddenly risen within Rome vnto honour, whose fal I dare rather assure then life: For all buildinges hastily made, cannot bee sure. The longer a tree is kept in his kinde, the longer it will bee ere it bee olde.
The trees whose fruite wee eate in Summer, doe warme vs in Winter: Oh how many haue wee seene, wherof we haue maruelled of their rising, and beene abashed at their falles. They haue growne as a whole peece, and suddenly wasted as a skumme. Their felicity hath beene but a short moment, and their infortune as a long life.
Finally, they haue made a mille, and layde on the stones of increase, and after a little grinding, left it vnoccupied all the yeare after, Thou knowest well, my friend Catullus, that wee haue seene Cincius Fuluius in one yeare made Consull, and his children Tribunes, his wife a Matrone for young maydens: and besides that, made keeper of the Capitoll: and after that not in one yeare, but the same day we saw Cincius beheaded in the place, his children drowned in Tiber, his Wife banished from Rome, his house razed down to the ground, and all his goods confiscated to the common Treasury.
This rigorous example wee haue not read in any booke, to take a copie of it, but wee haue seene it with our eyes, to keepe it in our minds. As the Nations of people are variable, so are the conditions of men diuers. And mee thinketh this is true, seeing that some loue, some hate, and that some seeke, some eschew: and that some set little by, other make much store. In such wise, that all cannot bee content with one thing, nor some with all things cannot be satisfied. Let euery man chuse as him list, & embrace the world when hee will, I had rather mount a soft pace to the falling, and if I cannot come thereto, I will abide by the way, rather then with the sweat to mount hastily, and then to tumble downe headlong.
In this case sith mens hearts vnderstand it: we neede not to write further with pennes. And of this matter, marke not the little that I doe say, but the great deale that I will say. And sith I haue begunne, and that thou art in strange lands, I will write thee all the newes from hence.
This yeare the 25. day of May, there came an Ambassadour out of Asia, saying hee was of the Isle of Cetin, a Baron right proper of body, [Page 743] ruddy of aspect, and hardy of courage: Hee considered being at Rome, thogh the Summers dayes were long, yet Winter would draw on, and then would it bee daungerous sayling into this isle, and saw that his busines was not dispatched: On a day beeing at the gate of the Senate, seeing all the Senators enter into the Capitoll, without any armour vpon them, he as a man of good spirite, and zelator of his Country, in the presence of vs all sayd these words:
O Fathers Conscript: O happie people, I am come from a straunge countrey to Rome; only to see Rome: and I haue found Rome without Rome. The walles wherewith it is inclosed hath not brought mee hither, but the fame of them that gouerne it: I am not come to see the Treasury: wherein is the treasure of all Realmes: but I am come to see the sacred Senat, out of the which issueth counsell for al men: I came not to see it, because yee vanquish other: but because I thought you more vertuous then all other. I dare well say one thing, except the gods make me blinde and trouble my vnderstanding, yee bee not Romanes of Rome, nor this is not Rome of the Romanes your predecessors. Wee haue heard in our Isle, that diuers realmes haue beene wonne by the valiantnes of one, and conserued by the wisedome of all the Senate: and at this houre you are more likely to lose, then to winne as your Fathers did. Al their exercise was in goodnes, and yee that are their children passe all your time in Ceremonies: I say this yee Romanes, because you haue almost killed me with laughing at you, to see how you doe all as much your diligence to leaue your armour without the gate of the Senate, as your predecessors did take to them to defend the Empire.
What profite is it to you to leaue off these Armours which hurt the bodies, and to put on them those which kill all the World? What profiteth it to the carefull Suiter, that the Senator entreth vnarmed into the Senat without sword or dagger, and his hart entreth into the Senate armed with malice. O Romanes, I will that you know that in our Isle wee esteeme you not as armed Captaines, but as malitious Senators. You feare vs not with sharpe golden swords and daggers, but with hard hearts, and venemous tongues: If yee should in the Senate put on harnesse, and therewith take away our liues it were but a smal losse, seing that you sustaine not the Innocents, nor dispatch not the businesse of suiters: I cannot suffer it, I cannot tell in what state yee stand here at Rome: for in our Isle we take armour from fooles whether your Armours are taken away as from fooles or mad folks, I know not: if it bee done for ambitiousnesse, it commeth not of Romanes but of Tirants: that wranglers and irefull folke should be iudges ouer the peaceable; and the ambitious ouer the meeke, & the malitious ouer the simple? if it be done because you are fooles, it is not in the Lawes of the gods, that three hundred fooles should gouerne three hundred thousand wise men.
It is a long season that I haue tarried for mine answere and licence, and by your delayes I am now further off, then I was the first day.
Wee bring oyle, honey saffron, wood, and timber, salte, siluer: and solde out of our Isle into Rome, and yee will that wee goe else where for to seeke iustice. Yee will haue one Law to gather your rents, and another to determine your iustice: yee will that wee pay our tributes in one day, and yee will not discharge one of our errands in a whole yeare.
I require you Romans, determine your selues to take away our liues, & [Page 744] so wee shall ende: or else heare our complaints, to the intent that we may serue you. For in another manner it may be, that ye know by hearing with your eares, which peraduenture yee would not see with your eyes. And if yee thinke my wordes be out of measure, so that ye will remedie my countrey, I set not by my life. And thus I make an ende.
Verily friend Catullus, these bee the words that he spake vnto the Senate, which I gate in wryting. I say of truth that the hardinesse which the Romains were wont to haue in other Countreys, the same (as now) strangers haue in Rome.
There were that saide that this Embassadour should bee punished, but GOD forbid: that for saying trueth in my presence, he should haue beene corrected. It is ynough, and too much too, to suffer these euils, though wee slea not, and persecute those that aduertise and warne vs of them.
The Sheepe are not in surery of the wolfe, but if the Shephearde haue his dogge with him. I meane, dogges ought not to leaue barking, for to awaken the Shepheards.
There is no GOD commaundeth, nor Law counselleth, nor Commonwealth suffereth, that they which are committed to chastice Lyers, should hang them that say trouth. And sith the Senatours shewe themselues men in their liuing, and sometimes more humane then others that bee Slaues, who else should deliuer them, from chasticement.
Oh Rome, and no Rome, hauing nothing but the name of Rome: Where is now become the noblenesse of thy Triumphs, the glorie of thy children, the rectitude of thy iustice, and the honor of thy tēples? For as now they chastice him more that murmureth against one onely Senatour, then they do them that blaspheme all the Gods at once. For it grieueth mee more to see a Senatour or Censor to bee worst of all other: then it displeaseth mee that it should be saide, that hee is the best of all other.
For a trueth I say to thee my friend Catullus, that now we need not to seek to the Gods in the Temples, for the Senators are made gods in our hands
There is a difference betweene them that bee immortall, and they that be mortal. For the Gods neuer do thing that is euill, and the Senatours do neuer any thing well. The Gods neuer Lye, and they neuer say trueth. The Gods pardon often, and they nouer forgiue: the Gods are content to be honoured fiue times in the yeare, and the Senatours would bee honoured tenne times a day.
What wilt thou that I say more? but whatsoeuer the Gods doe, they ought to bee praised: and the Senatours in all their workes deserue to be reproued. Finally, I conclude that the Gods are constant in euery thing, and erre and faile in nothing: and the Senatours assure nothing, but erre in all things. Onely in one thing the Senators are not of reason to be chasticed, and that is: when they intend not to amend their faultes, they will not suffer the Oratours to waste theyr time to shew them the truth.
Bee it as may be, I am of that opinion, that what man or woman withdraweth their Eares from hearing the truth, impossibls it is for them to applye their hearts to loue any vertues: bee it Censour that iudgeth, or Senatour that ordaineth, or Emperor that commaundeth, or Consul that executeth, or Oratour that preacheth.
No mortall man, take hee neuer so good heede to his workes, nor reason so well in his desires, but that hee deserueth some chastisement, for some cause, or counsell in his doings. And sith I haue written vnto thee thus of [Page 745] others. I will somewhat speake of my selfe, because of the words of thy letter. I haue gathered that thou desirest to know of my person.
Know thou for certaine, that in the Kalends of Ianuary, I was made Censor in the Senate, the which office I desired not, nor I haue deserued it.
The opinion of all wise men is, that no man without he lacke wit, or surmounteth in folly, will gladly take on him the burthen and charges of other men. A greater cause it is for a shamefast man to take on him an office to please euery man: for hee must shew acountenance outward, contrary to that hee thinketh inward. Thou wilt say, that the good are ordained for to take the charge of offices. O vnhappie Rome, that hath willed to take mee in such wise, as to be the best in it. Grieuous pestilence ought to come for them that be good, sith I am escaped as good among the euill, I haue accepted this office, not for that I had neede thereof, but to fulfill the commaundement of Antoninus my Grandfather. Haue no maruell of any thing that I doe, but of that I leaue to bee done: For euery man that is wedded to Faustine, there is no villany but he shall doe it,
I sweare to thee, that sith the day wee were wedded, me seemeth that I haue no wit. I leaue wedding for this time, and returne to speake of offices: Surely, a peaceable man ought to bee in offices, though it be painefull: for as the offices are assured among them that bee vertuous, so perillously goeth the vertuous folke among Offices: And for the truth hereof reckon what they winne, and then thou shalt see what they lose. Say that is good, if thou knowest it, and heare the euill, if thou desire to know it.
Hee that will take the charge for to gouerne other, seeketh thought and trouble for himselfe, enuie for his neighbours, spurres for his enemies, pouerty for his riches, a waking for theeues, perill for his body, end of his dayes, and torment for his great renowne.
Finally, hee seeketh a way to reiect his friends, and a repeale to recouer his enemies. O vnhappy man is hee, that taketh on him the charge of children of many mothers, for he shall bee alwayes charged with thoughtes, how he should content them all: full of sighes, because one hath to giue him: feare that one should take from him, weeping if he lose, and feare that they infame him, Hee that knoweth this, without long tarrying ought to set a bridle in his head. But I say of one as I say of another: For I will sweare, and thou wilt not deny it, that wee may finde some now a dayes that had rather bee in the parke to fight against the bulles, then be in surety vpon the Scaffold,
Ostentimes I haue heard say: Go wee to the Theaters to runne at the Buls: Goe wee to chase the Harts & wilde Bores: and when they come thither they runne away, not the beastes from them, but they from the beasts, In such wise as they went running, they returne againe flying. I say, these ambitious persons procure for to gouerne, and are gouerned: they commaund, and are commaunded, they rule and are ruled: And finally, thinking to haue diuers vnder their hands, these wretches put themselues vnder euery mans foote. For the remedy of all these perils, my thoughtes are comforted with one thing, and that is, without procuring or offering my selfe, he Senate of their own Will hath commaunded mee. In the eight Table of our auncient laws by these Wordes. Wee commaund that in our sacred Senate, Charge of iustice bee neuer giuen to him that willinglie offereth him selfe [Page 749] to it, but to such as by great deliberation are chosen. This is certainely a iust Law: for men be now not so vertuous, not so louing to the Common wealth, that they will forget their own quietnes and rest, doing damage to themselues, to procure another mans profite.
There is none so foolish that will leaue his wife, children, and his owne sweet Countrey, to gee into straunge Countries: but if hee see himselfe among strange people, thinking vnder the colour of iustice to seeke for his owne vtility. I say not this without weeping, that the Princes with their small study and thought, and the Iudges with their couetousnesse, haue vndermined and shaken downe the high wals of the policie of Rome.
O my friend Catullus, what wilt thou that I shall say, but that our credence so diminisheth, our couetousnesse so largely stretcheth, our hardinesse so boldneth, our shamefastnesse so shamelesse, that wee prouide for Iudges to go and rob our neighbours, as Captaines against our enemies: I let thee to know, where as Rome was beloued for chastising the euill, now it is as much hated for spoiling the good. I doe remember that I reade in the time of Dennis Siracusan, that ruleth all Scicill, there came an Ambassadour from Rhodes to Rome, being of a good age, wel learned, and valiaunt in armes, and right curious to note all things.
He came to Rome to see the Maiesty of the sacred Senate, the height of the high Capitoll, enuironed with the Colliset: the multitude of Senators, the wisedome of the Counsellors, the glory of triumphes, the correction of the euill, the peace of the inhabitants, the diuersity of Nations, the aboundance of the mantenance, the order of the offices: And finally, seeing that Rome was Rome, hee was demaunded how hee thought thereby? He answered, and sayde; O Rome, at this present world thou art ful of vertuous and wise men, hereafter thou shalt bee furnished with fooles.
Loe what high and very high words were these: Rome was seuen hundred yeares without any house of fooles, and now it hath beene three hundred yeares without any wise or vertuous man. Looke what I say, it is no mockery, but of truth, if the pittifull Gods now a dayes did raise our predecessors from death to life, eyther they would not know vs for their children, or else they would attach vs for fooles.
These be things vsed in Rome, but thou sendest no word of that is vsed in Agripine. I will write nothing vnto thee to put thee to paine: write to me some thing to reioyce me, if thy wi [...]e Dimisila chanced well of the flote that came out of Cetin with salt, oyle, and honey, I haue well prouided for her: Wilt thou know that Flodius our vncle was cast downe by the rage of his horse, and is deceased. Laercia and Colliodorus are friendes together by occasion of a marriage. I doe sende thee a Gunne, I doe pray to the gods to send thee ioy thereof.
My wife Faustine saluteth thee. Recommend mee to Iamiro thy sonne: The Gods haue thee in keeping, and and sinister fortune bee from me.
Marcus thy friend, to thee Catullus his own.
CHAP. VII. Marcus Aurelius writeth to the amorous Ladies of Rome.
MArk Orator, reading in Rhodes the art of humanity, to you amorous Ladies of Rome, wisheth health to your persons, and amendmēt of your desired liues. It was written to mee that at the Feast of the mother Berecinthia, all you being present together, made a play of mee, in which you layed my life for an example, and slaundred my Renowne. It is tolde mee that Auilina composed it, Lucia Fuluia wrote it, and thou Toringua did sing it, and you altogether into the Theater did present it.
You brought mee forth painted in sundry formes, with a booke in my hand turned contrary, as a fained Philosopher, with a long tongue, as a bold speaker without measure: with a horn in my head as a common Cuckolde, with a nettle in my hand, as a trembling louer, with a banner fallen down as a coward Captaine: with my beard halfe shauen, as a feminate man, with a cloth before my eyes as a condemned foole: and yet not content with this, another day yee brought mee foorth portracted with another new deuise: Yee made a figure of mine, with feete of straw, the legges of amber, the knees of wood, the thighes of brasse, the belly of horne, the armes of pitch, the hands of mace, the head of yron: the eares of an Asse, the eyes of a Serpent, the heares of rootes [...]agged, the teeth of a catte, the tongue of a Scorpion, and the forehead of lead in which was writtē in two lines these letters, M. N. S. N. I. S. V. S. which in my opinion signifieth thus: This picture hath not so many mettals as his life hath changes.
This done, yee went to the riuer and tyed it with the head downwarde a whole day, and if it had not beene, for the good Lady Messelyne, I thinke it had beene tyed there till now.
And now yee amorous Ladies, haue written mee a Letter by Fuluius Fabritius, which grieued me nothing but as an amorous man from the handes of Ladies I accept it as a mockery.
And to the end I should haue no leysure to thinke thereon, yee sent to demaund a question of me, that is, if I haue found in my bookes, of what, for what, from whence, when, for whom, and how women were first made.
Because my condition is for to take mockes for mockes, and sith you doe desire it, I will shew it vnto you. Your friendes and mine haue written to mee, but especially your Ambassador Fuluius hath instantly required mee so to doe. I am agrieued with nothing, and will hold my peace, sauing to your letter onely I will make aunswere.
And sith there hath been none to aske the question, I protest to none but to you, amorous Ladies of Rome, I send my aunswere. And if an honest Lady will take the demaund of you, it is a token that shee doth enuie the office that yee bee of. For of a truth, that Lady which sheweth her selfe annoyed with your paine openly, from henceforth I condemne her that shee hath some fault in secrete: They that bee on the Stage, feare not the roaring of the Bull: they that bee in the Dungeon feare not the shot of the Canon.
[Page 748] I will say the woman of good life, feareth no mans slaunderous tongue, The good Matrons may keepe mee for their perpetuall seruant, and the euill for their chiefe enemie. I aunswere.
It is expedient you know of what the first women were made. I say that according to the diuersities of Nations that are in the world, I find diuers opinions in this case.
The Egyptians say, that when the tiuer Nilus brake, and ouerranne the earth, there abode certaine peeces of earth which cleaued together, and the Sunne comming to them, created many wilde beasts, amongst whom, was found the first woman. Note Ladies, it was necessary, that the floude Nilus should breake out: so that the first woman might bee made of earth.
All creatures are nourished, and bred in the entrailes of their mothers: except the Woman which was bredd without a mother. And it seemeth most true, that without mothers you were borne: for without rule yee liue, and with order yee die.
Truely hee that taketh vpon him a great thing, & hath many cares in his minde, much to muse vpon, needeth much counsell, needeth long experience, and ought to chuse amongst many women, that thinketh to rule the onely wife by reason.
Bee the beasts neuer so wilde, at length the Lion is ruled by his keeper, the Bull is enclosed in his Parke, the Horse ruled by the bridell, the little hooke catcheth the fish, the Oxe contented to yeelde to the yoake: onelie a woman is a beast, which will neuer bee tamed, she neuer loseth her boldnesse of commaunding, nor by any bridle will bee commaunded, The Gods haue made men as men, and beasts as beasts, and mans vnderstanding very high, and his strength of great force: yet there is nothing, be it of neuer so great strength and power that can escape a woman, eyther with sleight or might.
But I say vnto you amourous Ladies, there is neyther spurre can make you goe, reine that can holde you backe, bridle that can refrayne you, neyther fish-hooke, nor Nette that can take you: and to conclude, there is no Law can subdue you, nor shame restraine you, nor feare abash you, nor chasticement can amende you.
O to what great perill and danger putteth bee himselfe vnto, that thinketh to rule and correct you: For if you take an opinion, the whole world cannot remoue: who warneth you of any thing, yee neuer beleeue him. If they giue you good counsell, you take it not: if one threaten you, you straight complaine. If one pray you, then are you proude: if they reioyce not in you, then are you spitefull: If one doe forbeare you, then are you bolde, if one chastice you, straight you become serpents.
Finally, a Woman will neuer forget an iniury, not bee thankefull for a benefite receyued. Now a dayes the most simplest of all Women will sweare that they doe know lesse then they doe: But I doe sweare, which of them that knoweth least, knoweth more euill then all men: and of a truth the wisest man shall faile in their wisedome.
Will yee know my Ladies, how little you vnderstand, and how much you bee ignorant? that is in maters of great importance yee determine rashly, as if you had studyed on it a thousand yeares: if any resist your counsell, you holde him for a mortall enemie: Hardie is that woman that dare giue counsell to a a man, and hee more bolde that taketh it of a woman: but I returne and say, that [Page 749] hee is a foole which taketh it, and hee is a foole that asketh it, but he is most foole that fulfilleth it.
My opinion is, that he which wil not stūble amongst such hard stones, nor pricke himselfe amongst such thorns; nor sting him with so many Nettles: let him harken what I say, and doe as he shal see, speak well, and worke euill. In promising, avow much: but in performing, accomplish little. Finally allow your words, and condemne your counsells.
If wee could demaund of famous men which are dead, how they liked in their life time the counsells of Women? I am sure they would not rise againe to belieue them, nor to be reuiued to heare them.
How was that famous King Philip with Olympia, Paris with Helene, Alexander with Rosana, Aeneas with Dido, Hercules with Deyanira, Hannibal with Tamira, Antonie with Cleopatra, Iulius with Domitian, Nero with Agrippina? And if you will belieue what they suffered with them, aske of me vnhappie man what I suffer amongst you?
Oh ye Women, when I remember that I was borne of you, I loathe my mylife: and thinking how I liue with you, I wish and desire my death. For there is no such death or torment, as to haue to doe with you: and on the contrarie, no such life, as to flye away from you.
It is a common saying among Women, that men be very vnthankfull, because we were bred in your entrailes: Wee order you as seruants. Ye say for that ye brought vs forth with perill, & nourished vs with trauell, it is reason that wee should alwayes employ vs to serue you. I haue bethoght me diuers times with my selfe, from whence the desires that man hath vnto Women commeth?
There are no Eyes, but ought to weepe, no heart but should breake, nor spirite but ought to waile, to see a wise man lost by a foolish woman.
The foolish Louer passeth the day time to content his eye, and the darknight hee spendeth in tormenting of himselfe with fond thoughts: one day in hearing tydings another day in doing seruices.
Sometimes in liking the darkenesse, and somtimes in loathing of the light, being in company, and solitary liueth: And finally, the poore Louer may that he will not, and would that he may not.
Moreouer, the counsel of his friends auayleth him nothing, nor the infamy of his enemies, not the losse of goods, and the aduenture of honour, the loosing of his life, nor the seeking of his death, neyther comming neer, nor flying farre, nor seeing with his eyes, nor hearing with his eares, nor tasting with his mouth, nor feeling with his hand: and to conclude, to get victorie, hee is alwayes at strife and warre with himselfe. Then I would ye louers knew, from whence your Loue doeth come, it is thus:
The entrailes whereof we are bredde be Flesh, the breasts that we sucked are flesh, the armes wherein we be fastued bee of flesh, the thoughtes which wee thinke be fleshly, the works which wee doe are fleshly, the men with whom wee liue are of flesh, and the wonder for whom we dye are flesh.
By which occasion commeth, the reuerting of our flesh to flesh, manie free hearted are entangled with these snares of Loue.
It seemeth well (my Ladyes) that yee were engendred in puddles, as before is mentioned of the Egyptians: the puddles haue no cleare waters to drinke, nor fruite to bee eaten, nor Fish to bee taken, nor yet shippe to sayle in.
My meaning is, that in your liues ye be filthy, and your persons without [Page 750] shame in aduersity, weake and feeble in prosperity, full of deceit and guile, false in your words, and deceitfull in your doings, in hating without measure, in loue extreame, in giftes couetous, in taking vnshamefast: and finally, I say yee are the ground of feare, in whom the Wise men finde perill, and the simple men suffer iniury.
In you, the wise men holde theyr renowne slaundered, and the simple men their life in penury. Let vs omit the opinion of the Egyptians, and come to the Greekes, which say, that in the deserts of Arabia, the Sunne shineth hotest: and at the beginning there was found one Woman, with one birde called the Phenix, which birde was created on the Water, and the woman engendered by the great heat of the Sunne, and of the powder of trees in this wise.
There was a tree sore eaten with wormes, and vpon a time a blast of Lightning set it on fire, and burnt it: so as among the ashes of that rotten tree, the first woman was made and found.
Although I bee a Romane Philosopher, yet can I not disallow the opinion of the Greeke Philosopher. Of a truth 'ye amorous Dames, you haue your tongues of the nature of fire, and your conditions like the powder of a rotten tree.
According to the diuersity of Beasts, so Nature hath in diuers parts of the body placed their strength: as the Eagle in her byll: the Vnicorne in the horne, the Serpent in the tayle: the Bull in the head, the Beare in his pawes, the horse in the breast, the dog in the teeth, the Bore in the tuske: the Doues in the winges, and the women in their tongues. For of a truth, the flight of their loue is not so high, as the fantasie of your foolishnesse is vaine: the catte scratcheth not so sore with her nayles, as yee doe scratch the foolish men with your importunities.
The dogge hurteth him not so much that hee runneth after, as ye do the sorrowful Louer that serueth you: the life of him is not in so much danger that catcheth the Bul by the horns as is the fame of him that falleth into your hands.
To conclude, the Serpent hath not so much poyson in his tayle, as ye haue in your tongues. I accept the Romane Ladies apart, for there are many very noble, whose liues are not touched with complaint, nor good fames had in suspect. Of such, neyther my Letter speaketh ought, nor my penne writeth: but of those women I speake that bee such, as all the venemous beasts in the world haue not so much poison in their bodies, as one of those haue in their tongues. And sith the Gods haue commaunded, and our fate doth permit, that the life of men cannot passe without women: I aduise the youth, and beseech the aged: I wake the wise, and instruct the simple, to shunne women of euill name, more then the common pestilence. Reading the auncient Lawes of Plato, I finde written this. We command that all women openly defamed, bee openly banished the City, to the entent that others seeing the sinne punished, may abhorre the same, for feare to fall in the like paine. The same Law sayde further, Wee commaund that they pardon a woman for all her faults shee committeth boldly, in case yee see amendment likewise in her: but wee will that no fault bee pardoned, committed by the tong, For actuall sinne done, is the frailety of nature, the tongue onely of malice. O diuine Plato, Master, and measure of all knowledge and science, and prince of all philosophers: when thou in the golden world madest such [Page 751] Lawes: In which time there was such scarcitie of those women which were euill, and so great plentie of them that were good: In this case what should wee doe now in Rome, where there bee so many euill openly, and none good in secret?
Women ought naturally to bee shamefast in their face, temperate in their words, wise of wit, sober in their going, honest in their conuersation, pittifull in their correction, warie in their liuing, auoyding companies, faithfull in their promises, constant in their loue.
Finally, shee that will be counted honest, let her not trust to the wisedome of the Worldly-pretended-wise: nor commit her Fame vnto the wanton youth: Let euery wise woman take heede what hee is that promiseth her ought. For after the flames of Venus be set on fire, and Cupid shotte his arrowes, the Rich offereth all that hee hath, and the poore all that hee may. The wise man will euer be her friend, and the simple-man, for euer her seruant.
The wise man wil lose his life for her, and the simple will accept his death for her. The old men say, they will be friends to their friends: and the yong men will say, he wil be enemy to theyr enemyes. The aged promising to pay her debts, the other to reuenge her jniuries. Finally, the one because to hide their pouerty, and the other to publish their beautie, leade these fooles losing their liues, and bringing their fame to ende. I will leaue to speake of the good Women, for I minde not to charge them with ought.
I aske you amorous Ladyes, if Plato was amongst you, when ye made a play of my life, and drewe my picture about Rome? No surely, for that I see in your acte now: I doe suspect that to be true, which hath been saide of others, for there are fewe in Rome that execute the paines of Platoes Law.
One thing yee cannot denie: if I were the worst of all men, at the last ye see the end of my transgressing: but this you cannot denie, that she which is least euill of all you, the naughtines of her life, I could not sufficiently set out in my life.
It is great perill to wise women to be neighboured with fooles, it is great perill to the shamefast to bee with the shameles: it is great perill to the chast to be with the adulterers: great perill it is for the honourable to be with the defamed: For there is no slaundered woman but thinketh euery one defamed, or at the least is desirous to haue them so, procureth to haue them slaundered, or saith they bee infamed. And in the end to hide their infamie, they slaunder all the good.
It is long sith I knewe you amorous Ladyes, and you mee. If I speake, I speake: if you knowe, I knowe. If yee holde your peace, I am still: if ye speake openly, I will not talke in secrete.
Thou knowest well Auilina, thou diddest compasse the ieast of mee, that Eumedes solde Calues de [...]rer in the Butchery, then thou diddest innocent Virgines in thy house.
And thou Toringa knowest well, that before mee thou couldest not recount all thy Louers on thy fingers, but diddest desire to haue a bushell of peason.
Thou knowest well Lyuia Fuluia, when thou wert (thou knowest with whom) at Bretus, we made agreement with thy husband, thou tookest him aside and sayedst: Vnles I may lye out of my house one Night in a weeke, thou shalt not lie quietly in thy house: Thou knowest well Rotoria, that in thy youth thou werte two yeares on the Sea, and diddest compound with the pirate, that no woman shold serue the 100. soldiers, but thou alone in a gally.
[Page 752] Thou knowest right wel Enna Curtia that when the Censor came to take thee, hee found v. mens apparrell, the which thou warest in the night season and but one womans attire, wherewith thou wert clothed in the dayetime.
Thou knowest well Pesilana Fabricia, that Alluines, Metelles, and thou beeing married, demaunded openly what thou haddest gotten in his house with thy friendes in secret: Thou knowest well Camilla, not being content with thy owne Countrey folke, thou haddest such resorte and haunt of strangers to thee, that thou canst speake all languages.
I will marke them that haue marked mee, hurt them that haue hurted mee, persecute them that haue persecuted mee, defame them that haue slaundered mee, all other my penne pardoneth, for that they pardoned me in their play. Because my letter begunne with that ye did to my person: therefore I will end it, with that it knoweth of your good names.
And thus I conclude, that a man may escape from all dangers in shunning them: but from women, there is no way but to flye from them.
Thus I end, and beseech the gods that I may see of you that which you would see of mee: and sith yee bee louers, I counsell you, as you haue sent mee the play in a mockery, euen so receyue my aunswere.
Marke now the Rhodian, to the amorous Ladies of Rome.
CHAP. VIII. Of a Letter sent by Marcus Aurelius to his loue Boemia, for that shee desired to goe with him to the warres.
MArcus the Romane Pretor, beeing in the warres of Dacia, sendeth health to his louing Boemia, remayning in the pleasures of Rome. Escaping from a cruell battell, thy fewe lines I read and vnderstood thy large information. I let thee know thou hast astonied me more, then mine enemies haue feared me, and taking thy letter in my hands, the herbe of malice entred into my heart. When I temper my body with the delights, I thinke my heart free from the venome of thy amours: sith I of my will, and thou for want of power hath giuen vs to bee free of our pleasures. I thinke as well to make a diuorce of our sorrowes: But yee bee such, yea such I say, as are the banishments of loue, and the treasure of griefes.
The loue of you all ought to bee digested with pilles, but the passion of one of you will not bee oppressed, with all the rubarbe in Alexandria, Yee shew your selues cruell to pardon an enemie, and euer lightly you change your friendes. I haue curiously made search, whilest delight gouerned my youth: yet could I neuer see in a woman stedfastnesse, nor reason in their loue, nor end in their hate. The present wantonnesse quarrelleth with my youth passed, because thou seest not in me the auncient good will towardes thee, nor the present seruice.
And certainely hearing thy accusation, [Page 753] and not my iustification: thou mightest pay me as iustly with death, as I pay thee with forgetfulnesse: The which forgetfulnesse ought to bee as straunge in him that serueth, as ingratitude in the Lady that is serued: thinkest thou that I haue forgotten the law of Venus? when I commaunded that the curious Louers should exercise their strength in chiualry, and occupy their hearts in loue? and more it willeth a man to weare his clothes cleanly, their feet right, their bodies constant, their voyce soft and humble, demure and modest of cheare: they ought to haue eyes open, alwayes looking vp to the Windowes, and their hearts ready to flye into the aire: For a truth, my friend Boemia, hee is a grosse louer that hath his will in captiuity, and his iudgment free. The iudgment is of no value, where the will is in thraldome. This I say, that thou mayest know, though my age hath left the exercise: yet my vnderstanding hath not forgot the art: Thou complaynest because I giue my selfe vnto much quiet, and that I haue forgotten thee. I will not deny the truth, the day of my forgetting maketh thee priuie of my thoughts.
And reason the Ouerseer declareth that it is not requisite for my grauitie to permit I should loue: nor in thy age to suffer to be beloued. The world doth dissemble many things in youth: which in age meriteth grieuous corrections. The wanton toyes of youth proceed of ignorance, but the villanies done in age grow of malice.
When I walked in the nights, I ietted the streetes, I sang ballades, I gazed to the Windowes: I played on the Gitiornes: I scaled the walles: I wakened the youth.
Thinkest thou that I win what I did in my youth? but sithence I see my selfe bereaued of all my wonted wanton toyes, and polished with so many white hayres, cladde with so many sorrowes: eyther I thinke now I was not then, or else I dreame now, not knowing the way I stray in, nor seeing that stony way ready to stumble in.
Vnwittingly I haue fallen into the stayres, not foreseeing the Whirlepoole: guidelesse I entred, in the rashnesse of my youth I lost mee: for the which I aske pardon. And nowe that I am out of the bryers, thou woldest haue me further in, then euer I was.
Now that I cannot take the purgations, thou offerest to mee the sirropes. I haue awaked all night, and now thou giuest me a fresh alarum. By our auncient friendshippe I pray thee, and by the Gods I coniure thee, that sithence my heart is rebell to thy will, that thy doubtfull will doe suffer, and let alone my will out of doubt. And because thou shouldest not thinke any ingratitude in my white hayres, as I may in thy young wanton person. I will that wee account that wee haue gotten, and that wee hope to get. Tell mee what commeth of these vaine pleasures? the time euill spent, the fame in way of perdition, the goods consumed, the credite lost, the gods offended, the vertuous slaundered: from whence wee gette the names of bruit beasts, and surnames of shame: Such bee yee and others.
Thou writest in thy Letter, how thou wouldest willingly leaue Rome, & come to see mee in the Warres of Dacia.
Considering thy folly, I laugh, but knowing thy boldnesse I beleeue thee. And when I thinke on this I turne to my bosome, and peruse thy seale: doubting whether the Letter were thine or not. The veines of my heart doe chaunge, my colour doth turne, imagining that eyther shame hath vtterly forsaken thee, or els grauitie [Page 754] hath wholly abandoned mee: for such lightnes should not be beleeued, but of the like persons.
Thou knowest well he that doth euil, deserueth punishment sooner then hee that doth infamy. I would aske thee whether thou wilt goe? thou sufferedst to be cut as a sower grape, and now thou wouldest bee sold for good wine? thou camest in with Cheries and yet wouldest remaine as quinces. Wee haue eaten thee in blossomes, and thou wilt bee like the fruite? the nuttes bee pleasant, but the shelles bee hard. By dung thou wert made ripe in thy youth, and thou thinkest to bee in still. Thou art nought else but rotten. And if thou bee rotten, thou art to bee abhorred. Thou art not content with forty yeares which thou hast whereof 25. thou diddest passe in taste, like to sweet wine that is solde, or like the Melons that bee ripe and mellow.
Art not thou that Boemia which lacketh two teeth before? are not thine eyes sunken into thy head? thy hayres whiter, the flesh wrinckled, and thy hand perished with the gowt, and one rib marred with child-bearing? Whether doest thou desire to goe? put thy selfe then in a barrell, and cast it into the Riuer, so shalt thou become pure and white.
Wee haue eaten the fresh fish, and now thou wouldest bring hither the stinking salt fish. O Boemia, Boemia, in this case I see no trust in youth, nor hope in age: For vnder this thy hored age there is hid the pangues of frayle youth. Thou complainest that thou hast nothing: it is an old quarrel of the auncient amorous Ladyes in Rome, that taking all thinges, they say they haue left them nothing. The cause thereofis, where you do lacke credite, there you would haue it accomplished with money.
Beleeue me louing friend, the foolish estate of vnlawfull gaming, both giueth an vnsure estate, and also an euill fame to the person. I know not how thou art so wastfull, for if I pulled off my rings with the one hand, thou pickedst my purse with the other: greater wars haddest thou then with my Coffers, then I haue now with my enemies.
I neuer had iewell, but thou demaundedst it of mee, and thou neuer askedst mee thing that I denyed thee I finde and bewaile now in my age the high parts of my youth. Of trauell & pouerty thou complainest, I am hee that hath great neede of the medicine for this opilation, and playsters for the sonne, and colde water for such a burning feuer.
Doest thou not well remember, how I did banish my necessity into the land of forgetfulnesse, and placed thy good wil for the request of my seruice? in the winter I went naked, and in the sommer loaded with clothes. In the mire I went on foot, and rode in the fayre way. When I was sad I laught, when I was glad I wept. Being afraid I drew out my strength, and out of strength cowardnes. The night with sighes, and dayes in wayling I consumed.
When thou haddest neede of any thing, I robbed my father for it. Tell mee Boemia, with whom diddest thou sulfill thine open follyes, but with the misorders that I did in secret? Thinke you what I thinke of the amorous Ladies in Rome: that yee be mothes in olde garments, a pastime for light persons, a treasure of fooles, and the sepulchres of vices. This that seemeth to mee is, that in thy youth euery man gaue to thee, for that thou shouldest giue to euery one? now thou giuest thy selfe to euery man, because euery one should giue them to thee. Thou tellest mee that thou hast two sonnes and lackest helpe for them.
[Page 755] Giue thanks to the gods for the mercy they shewed thee. To xv. Children of Fabritius my neighbour, they gaue but one Father: and to thine onely two sonnes, they haue giuen fifteene Fathers. Wherefore diuide them to their Fathers, and euery one shall bee well prouided for. Lucia thy daughter indeed, and mine by suspect, remember that I haue done more in marrying of her, then thou diddest in bringing her forth: For in the getting of her, thou calledst many: but to marry her, I did it alone. Verie little I write thee, in respect of that I would write.
Butrio Cornely hath spoken much to mee on thy behalfe, and hee shall say as much to thee on my part. It is long agoe sithence I knew thy impatience: I know well thou wilt sende mee another more malitious.
I pray thee, since I write to thee in secrete, discouer mee not openly: and when thou readest this, remember what occasion thou hast giuen me to write thus.
Although wee bee fallen out, yet I will send thee money. I send thee a gowne, and the Gods bee with thee Boemia, and send mee from this war with peace.
Marke Pretour in Daeia, to Boemia his Louer, and ancient friend in Rome.
CHAP. IX. The aunswere of Boemia, to the Emperour Marcus Aurelius, wherein is expressed the great malice, and litle patience of an euill woman.
BOemia thy auncient Louer, to thee Mark of Mount Celio her naturall enemie, desireth vengeance of thy person, and euill fortune during thy life I haue receyued thy letter, and thereby perceyue thy spitefull intents, and thy cruell malices. Such naughty persons as thou art, haue this priuiledge, that sith one doth suffer your villanies in secret, you will hurt them openly: but thou shalt not doe so with mee Marke, Althogh I am not treasuresse of thy good: yet at the least I am of thy naughtinesse: All that I cannot reuenge with my person, I will not spare to doe it with my tongue. And though we women for weakenesse sake, are easily ouercome in person, yet know thou that our hearts are inuincible.
Thou sayest, escaping from a battell, thou receyuedst my Letter, wherof thou wast sore agast. It is a common thing to them that be slothful to speak of loue, for fooles to treate of bookes, and for Cowards to blaze of Armes: I say it because the aunswere of a Letter was not needfull, to rehearse to a woman whether it was before the battell, or after. I thinke well thou hast escaped it, for thou wert not the first that fought, nor the last that fled. I neuer saw thee goe to the iwarre in thy youth, that euer I was fearefull of thy life: for knowing thy cowardlinesse, I neuer tooke care for thy absence, I [Page 756] alwayes iudged thy person safe. Then tell mee Marke, what doest thou now in thy age? I thinke thou carriest thy lance, not to serue thy turne in thy warre, but to leane on, when the gout taketh thee. The head-peece, I iudge thou hast not to defend thee from the strokes of swords, but to drinke withall in tauernes.
I neuer saw thee strike any man with thy sword, but I haue seene thee kill a thousand women with thy tong. O malitious Marke, if thou wert as valiant as thou art spitefull, thou shouldest be no lesse feared among the barbarous nations then thou art abhorred (with good reason) amongst the Romanes. Tell me what thou list, but thou canst not deny? but both thou hast beene, and art a slacke louer, a cowardly knight, an vnknown friend auaricious, infamed, an enemy to all men, and friend to none.
Moreouer, wee knew thee a light young man, condemne thee now for an olde doting foole. Thou sayest that taking my letter into thy hands, forthwith thy heart receyued the hearbe of malice.
I beleeue thee well vnsworne: for any thing touching malice, dooth straight finde harbour in thy brest: the beasts corrupted do take poysō, which the sound, and of good complexion refufeth, Of one thing I am sure, thou shalt not dye of poyson: For seldom times one poyson hurteth another: but it driueth out the other. O malicious Marke, if all they in Rome knew thee, as well as the vnhappy Boemia doth: they should see how much the wordes that thou speakest, differ from the intention of thy hart. And as by the bookes thou makest, thou meritest the name of a Philosopher, euen so, for the ilnesse thou inuentest, thou doest deserue the name of a Tirant. Thou sayest, thou neuer sawest constancy in a Womans loue, nor end in her hate. I ioy not a little, that other Ladies in Rome as well as I, doe know thy small wisedome.
Behold Marke, I will not mocke thee: for thou art such a one as neuer deserued that one should beginne to loue, nor end to hate. Wilt thou haue stability in loue, and thou vnthankfull of thy seruice, wilt thou serue in mockerie, and be beloued faithfully? wilte thou enioy the person without spending any of thy goods? wilt thou haue no complaints on thee, and thou ceasest not thy malice?: Thou knowest the il of women: I will that thou know, that wee bee not so foolish as yee suppose vs to be: nor thou so wise, as thou praysest thy selfe to be.
Hitherto we haue seen more men follow the desire of women, then women haue liked to follow men. I haue seene a thousand times, yea and thou thy selfe, that one man hath not so mighty a heart as to ouercome three wise women, and one woman holdeth her self strong enough to subdue three hundred light persons. Thou sayest thou art ashamed of my lightnesse, to see mee forsake Rome, and come to thee into the wars.
Great is the loue of the Countrey and many leaue much goods which they haue in straunge lands, to liue poorely in their owne: but greater is thy loue, sith I would leaue Rome with the delights therin, and come to seeke thee in strange lands among the rude souldiers.
O malitious Marke, O straunge friend, if I leaue Rome, it were to goe seeke my heart, which is with thee in the warres. And certainly oftentimes when I thinke of thy absence, I fall into a swound, as one that had no hart: but I neuer finde remedy. I thinke our loue is not like to these beastes, which haue their mindes onely vpon sensuall pleasures, without the conioyning of the louing hearts.
[Page 757] I sweare to thee by the goddesse Vesta, and the mother Berecinthia, that thou owest more to me for the loue I haue borne to thee in one day, then for the seruice I haue done to thee in 22. yeares▪
Behold, vnhappy Marke, how much and dearely I loued thee. In thy presence I alwayes beheld thee, and absent I alwayes thought of thee: sleeping I dreamed on thee, I haue wept for thy sorrowes, and laught at thy pleasures: and finally, all my welth I wished thee, and all thy misfortunes I tooke as mine.
I assure thee of one thing, that I feele not so much the persecution thou hast done mee, as I doe the wailing forgetfulnesse thou shewest vnto mee. It is a great griefe to a couetous man to lose his goods, but without comparison it is a greater torment for the Louer to see his euil bestowed, It is a hurt that is alwayes sore, and a paine alwayes painefull, a sorrow alwayes sorrowfull, and it is a death that neuer endeth.
Oh if men knew how dearely and faithfully women doe loue, when they are bent to loue: and with what malicious hart they hate, being set to hate: I sweare vnto you, yee would neuer companie with them in loue: or if ye did loue them, yee would neuer leaue, for feare of their hate. And as there is neuer great hate, but where there was first much loue: euen so, thou shalt neuer bee greatly hated, for that thou wert neuer truly beloued of the ladies.
The sorrowfull Boemia hath loued thee xxii. yeares of her life: and now shee hateth thee till after her death. Thou sayest I may bee eaten for vertiuyce: and yet would be sold for wine.
I knowe I haue erred, as one both young and light: and when I found me to stray out of the way, I was too farre gone, and my mishap could no other way, nor remedie.
It is a great losse of all losses when there is no remedy. I haue offended as a weake and fraile woman, but thou as a man strong. I erred by simple ignoraunce, but thou of a purposed and wilfull malice. I sinned not, knowing that I did amisse: but thou knowest what thou diddest.
I gaue eare and credite vnto thy words as a faithfull Knight, and thou betrayedst mee with a thousand Lyes, and protestations, as a common lyer.
Tell me, diddest not thou seeke occasion to come into my mother Getuliaes house, to entice me her daughter Boemia, to thy minde?
Diddest thou not promise my Father, to teach me to read in one yeare: and readdest mee Ouide, of the arte of Loue? Diddest not thou sweare to marrie mee, and after withdrewe thy hand as a false Adulterer? Diddest thou not know that thou neuer foundest in my person any villanie, nor in thy mouth any trueth?
At the least thou canst not denye, but thou hast offended the Gods, thou art defamed amongst men, odious to the Romaines, a slaunderer of the good folkes, an Example to the ill, and finally a Traytour to my Father, a breaker of thy faith to my mother, and to me the vnhapy Boemia, an vnkind louer.
Oh malicious Marke, hast thou not cut me in leaues, offering to my father to keepe his vines safe? Euill may the chicken trust the Kyte, or the Lambs the wolfe, or the Doues the Faulcon, but thou art worse, to bring vppe the daughters of good men.
Oh cursed Marke, a hurtfull keeper of vines hath the matrone of Rome foūd thee, in keeping their Daughters. I sweare, that there was neither grape or cluster, but it was eyther eaten, or gathered by thee. Thou didst cut mee greene, for the which I promise thee, it hath set thy teeth on edge. Thou sayst I was riped by power of heat & straw.
[Page 758] It grieueth mee not so much that thou sayest it, as that thou giuest mee occasion to say vnto thee, thy shame is so shamelesse, and thy euill so malicious, that I cannot make aunswere to thy purpose, vnlesse I rubbe thee on the quicke.
I aske thee when thou marryedst Faustine, whether thou foundest them green or ripe? thou knowest well, and so doe I also, that others gaged the vessell and thou drankest the Lees: others had the meate, and thou the huskes: others did eate them beeing greene, and with the refuge set thy teeth on edge.
Oh cursed Marke: beholde how great thy euills are, and how the gods haue iustly punished thee: that being young couldst not deserue to be beloued [...]f thy Zouers: nor yet now in thy Age, thy wife keepe her faith to thee. For me to be reuenged of thy person, I need no more but to see thee marryed to Faustine.
By the Mother Berecynthia, I promise thee, that if thy small wisedome might attain to know at the full, what they say of thee, and her in Rome: thou wouldest weepe both day and night, for the life of Faustine, and not leaue the wofull Boemia.
Oh Marke, little care is taken for thee, and how farre is our vnderstanding vncoupled from thy thoughts? For through thy great Learning, thy house in the day time is a schoole of phylosophers, and the wantonnesse of thy wife Faustine in the night, maketh it a receyte of Ruffians.
It is a iust iudgement of the gods, sith that thy malice onely sufficeth to poyson many that bee good, the euilnes only of one woman, shalbe enogh to spoile & take away thy good renowm,
One difference there is betwen thee and me, & thy Faustine, which is: that my facts are in suspect, & yours done in deede: mine bee secrete, but yours known openly. I haue but stumbled, but ye haue fallen. For one only fault I deserue punishment: but you deserue pardon for none. My dishonor dyed with my fact, and is buryed with my amendment: but your infamie is borne with your desires, nourished with your malices, and still with your works. Finally, your infamie shall neuer dye, for you liued neuer well.
Oh Marke malicious, with all that thou knowest: doest thou not know that to dye well, doth couer an euill fame, and to make an ende of an euill life, doth beginne a good fame?
Thou ceasest not to say euill onely of suspect, which thy false iudgements giueth: and yet wouldest thou wee should conceale that wee see with our eyes? Of one thing I am sure, that neither of thee, nor of Faustine, there are, or haue been any false witnesses. For there are so many true euils, that there needeth no Lyes to be inuented.
Thou sayest it is an olde custome, with the amorous Ladies in Rome, though they take it of many, yet they are the poorest of all, because we want credit, we are honoured for siluer: It is most certaine, that of holly wee looke for prickes, of acornes husks, of netles stinging, and of thy mouth malices. I haue seriously noted: I neuer heard thee say well of any, nor I neuer knew any that would thee good.
What greater punishment can I desire for thy wickednenes, nor more vengeance for my iniuries, then to see al the amorons Ladies of Rome discontented with thy selfe, and ioy to think on thy death, cursed is the man whose life many doe bewayle, and in whose death euery one doth reioyce. It is the property of such vnthankefull wretches as thou art to forgette the great good done to them, and to repent the little they giue.
How much the noble hearts do reioice in giuing to other: so much they [Page 759] are ashamed to take seruice vnrewarded. For, in giuing they are lords, and in taking they become slaues.
I aske what it is thou hast giuen me, or what thou hast receyued of mee? I haue aduentured my good Fame, and giuen thee possession of my person: I haue made thee lorde of mee and mine: I banished mee from my countrey, I haue put in peril my life. In recompence of this, thou doest detect mee of miserie. Thou neuer gauest mee ought with thy heart, nor I tooke it with good will, nor it euer did me profit.
As all things recouer a name, not for the workes wee openly see, but for the secret intention with which we work: Euen, so thou vnhappie man desirest mee, not to enioy my person, but rather to haue my money.
Wee ought not to call thee a cleere Louer, but rather a Theefe, and a wily person. I had a little Ring of thine, I minde to throw it into the riuer: and a gowne thou gauest me, which I haue burnt. And if I thought my bodie were increased with that Bread I did eate of thine: I would cut my flesh being whole, and let out my bloud without feare.
Oh malicious Marke; thy obscured malice will not suffer thee to vnderstand my cleare letter. For I sent not vnto thee to aske mony, to relieue my pouertie and solitarines: but onely to acknowledge and satisfie my willing hart. Such vaine and couetous men as thou, are contented with gifts, but the harts incarnate in loue, are not satisfied with a little money.
For Zoue is rewarded alwayes with loue. The man that loueth not as a man of reason, but like a brute beast, and the woman that loueth not where she is beloued, but onely for the gaine of her bodie: Such ought not to bee credited in words, nor their personages to be honoured.
For the loue of her, ends when their goods faileth, and his loue when her beautie decayeth. If the beautie of my face did procure thy loue, and thy riches onely allured my good will: it is right that wee should not bee called wise Louers, but rather foolish persons.
O cursed Mark, I neuer loued thee for thy goods, although thou likedst me for that I was faire. Thou sayedst the Gods vsed great pittie on me, to giue me few children, and them manie Fathers, The greatest fault in women is shamelesse, and the greatest villany in men is to be euill sayers.
Diuers things ought to bee borne in the weaknesse of women, which in the wisedome of men are not permitted. I say this, for that I neuer saw in thee temperance, to cloke thine owne maliciousnes, nor wisdome to shadow the debilitie of others. Then I loued with my hart, and now I abhorre thee with all my heart.
Thou sayest my Children haue many Fathers: but I sweare vnto thee, that the children of Faustine shall not be fatherles although thou dye. And if the Gods as thou sayest haue beene pittifull to my Children, no lesse art thou vnto straunge children. For Faustine keepeth thee but to excuse her faultes, and to bee tutor to her Children.
Oh cursed Marke, thou needest not to take thought, for thy children haue no need to be marryed. For one thing wee are bound to thee, that is: the example of thy patience: for since thou sufferest Faustine in so manie open infamyes, it is no great neede wee suffer any secretes in thee.
For this present I say no more, I ende my Letter, desiring shortly to see the ende of thy life.
CHAP. X. ¶ Marcus Aurelius writeth to the Ladie Macrine the Romane, of whome, (beholding her at a window) he became enamored. Which declareth what force the beautie of a faire woman hath in weake man.
MArke, the verie desirous, to the Ladie Macrine greatly desired. I knowe not well whither by euill chaunce, or by hap of my good aduenture: not long agoe I saw thee at a window, where thou haddest thy arms as close, is I mine Eyes displayed, that cursed be they for euer: for, in beholding thy Face, forthwith my heart abode with thee as prisoner. The beginning of thy knowledge, is the ende of my reason, and falling in: shunning one euil, come infinite trauells vnto men.
I say it for this, if I had not bin idle, I had not gone out of my house: and not gone out of my house? I had not passed by the streete. And not going through the street, I had not not seen thee at the windowe: and not seeing thee at the window, I had not desired thy person, and not desiring thy person, I had not put thy fame in so great peril, nor my life in doubt: nor we had giuē no occasion to Rome to speake of vs. For of truth Lady Macrine, in this case I condemne my selfe: For very willingly I did behold thee. I did not salute thee, thogh thou desiredst to be seene. Sith thou wert set vp as a white, it is no marell though I shotte at thee with the arrowes of mine eyes, at the butte of thy beautie, with thy rowling Eyes, with thy browes bent, well coloured Face, incarnate Teeth, ruddie lips, courled hayre, handes set with Rings, cloathed with a thousand manner of colours, hauing purses full of sweete sauours: the Bracelettes, and Eare-rings, full of pearles and precious-stones.
Tell me what this meaneth? The most that I can thinke of this is: sith you shewe vs your bodyes openly, yee would wee should know your desires in secret. And if it be so, as I belieue it is: it seemeth to me Lady Macrine, thou oughtest to loue him that liketh thee, to enform him that seeketh thee: to aunswere him that calleth thee: to feele him that feeleth thee: and to vnderstand him that vnderstandeth thee: And sith thou vnderstandest me, I do vnderstand thee, and vnderstand that thou knowest not.
I doe well remember as I went by the street solitarily, to see two theeues put to death, mine eyes glauncing saw thee at a window: on whom dependeth all my desires.
More iustice thou doest to mee, then I to the Theeues: For I beeing at iustice, thou hast iusticed the iustice, and none dare payne thee. The gallowes is not so cruell to them which neuer knew but doing euill: as thou art to mee, which neuer thought other but onely to serue thee.
They suffer but one death, and thou makest mee suffer a thousand: They in one day and one houre ende their liues, and I eache minute doe feele the pangs of death. They dyed guyltie, but I innocently. They died openly, and I in secrete.
What wilt thou that I say more vnto thee? They wept for that they dyed, and I weepe daily teares of bloud from my heart, for that I liue. This is the difference, their torments spreadeth abroade through all their bodie, and I keep mine together, in my hart.
O cruell Macrine, I know not what iustice this is, that they kill men for robbing and stealing from manie? and suffer women to liue, which steale mens hearts?
[Page 761] If they take the liues from them that picke purses: why then doe they suffer Ladyes, which robbe our entrails? By thy Noblenes I pray thee, and by the Goddesse Venus I Conjure thee, eyther satisfie my desire, or restore me to my heart, which thou hast robbed from me.
I would thou shouldst know Lady Macrine, the cleare intention of my heart, rather then this Letter written with my hand. If my happe were so good, as thy Loue would permit me to speak with thee, I would hope by sight and speech to winne that, which I am in suspect by my Letter to loose.
The reason whereof is, because thou shalt reade my rude reasons in this letter, and if thou sawest me, thou shouldest see the bitter teares which I wold offer to thee, in this my vnhappy life.
Oh that my mouth could publish my cruell paines, as my heart feeleth them. I sweare vnto thee Lady Macrine, that my woefull plaintes would styrre vppe thy small care, and as thy beautie hath made thee thyne owne, so the true knowledge of thy griefes, should make thee mine. I desire thou wouldest regarde the beginning: and therewith note the ende.
For of truth, the same day that thou imprisonedst my hart at the window, in the dungeon of my desires, I had no lesse weaknesse to ouercome, then thou haddest strength to enforce me: and greater was thy power to take me from my selfe, then my reason was to put mee from thee.
Now ladie Macrine, I doe not aske other mercie of thee, but that we may declare our mindes together. But in this case, what wilt thou I say vnto thee? but that thou hast so much power ouer mee, and I so little of my liberty: that though I would not, my heart must needes bee thine: and that beeing thine, thou wilt shew thy selfe to be mine. And sith it may not be, but that my life must bee condemned in thy seruice: bee thou as sure of my Faith, as I am doubtfull of thy goodwill. For, I shall haue a greater honour to be lost for thy sake, then to win any other Treasure. I haue no more to say vnto thee now, but that thou haue respect to my perdition: and to drawe life out of my death, and turne my teares to ioye.
And because I holde my Faith, and will neuer despaire in thy hope, I send thee x. little rings of gold, with x. rings of Alexandria: and by the immortall Gods I conjure thee, that when thou puttest them on thy fingers, thou receyuest my Loue into thy heart.
Marcus thy Louer, wrote this with his owne hand.
CHAP. XI. ¶ Of an other Letter, which the Emperour sent to the Ladie Macrine: wherein hee expresseth the Fiery-flames, which soonest consume the gentle-hearts.
MArke thy neighbour at Rome, to thee Macrine his sweete enemie; I call thee Sweete for it is iust, I dye for thee: and enemy, because thou ceassest not to kill me. I cannot tell how it is, but sith the feast of Ianus hitherto I haue written three letters vnto thee, in the answer wherof I would haue been contented to haue receiued but two from thee. If I would serue thee, thou wilt not bee serued: If I speak to thee, thou wilt not answer me If I behold thee, thou wilt not looke at mee: if I call thee thou will not answer me: if I visite thee, thou wilt not see me: if I write vnto thee, thou wilt make no answer: And the worst of all is, if others do shew thee of my griefs, [Page 762] thou takest it as a mockerie.
Oh that I had so much knowledge where to complaine to thee, as thou hast power to ease my plaint: then my wisdome should be no lesse praised amongst the wise, then thy beautie among the fooles. I beseech thee hartily not to haue respect to the rudenes of my reasons, but regard the faith of my teares, which I offer to thee, as a witnes of my will.
I know not what profite may come by my harme: nor what gayne of my losse thou mayest hope to haue, nor what surety of my perill thou maist attaine: nor what pleasure of my paine thou mayest haue?
I had aunswere by my messenger, that without reading my Letters, with thine own hands thou didst rent them in peeces: it ought to suffice to thinke how manie persons are tormented. If it had pleased you Ladie Macrine, to haue read these few lines, you should haue perceyued, how I am inwardly tormented.
Yee women be very extreame: and for the misaduenture of one man, a woman will complaine of all men in generall. So yee all shew crueltie for one particular cause: openly yee pardon all mens liues, and secretly ye procure death to all. I account it nothing Ladie Macrine, that thou hast done, but I lament that which thou causest thy Neighbour Valerius to say to me.
One thing I would thou shouldest remember, and not forget, That is: Sith my libertie is so small, and thy power so great, that beeing wholly mine, am turned to be thine: the more iniury thou dost to me, the more thou hurtest thy selfe, since by thee I dye, as thou by me dost liue. In this peruerse opiniō abide not, so maist thou hazard the life of vs both. Thou burist thy good name, and destroyest my health, in the end thou must come to the same Physicke Pardon me Lady Macrine, if I say ought that may offend thee. I know ye women desire one thing greatly: that is, to haue souerainty of vs, and yet not seeme so much as by thought to wish the same. Thou haddest the fame of a gentle nature, though indeede thou wert not so: yet thou haddest the fame therof, and an ancient good name ought not to be lost with a new vnkindnesse. Thou knowest how contrary ingratitude is to vertue, in a vertuous house. Thou canst not be called vertuous, but if thou be curteous. There is no greater ingratitude, thē not to loue againe.
Though I visite thee, and thou not me, it is nothing: though I remember thee, and thou forgettest mee, it is nothing: thogh I weepe, and thou laugh, it is nothing: though I craue of thee & thou denie me, it is nothing: thogh thou owest mee, and pay mee not, it is nothing: But if I loue thee, and thou not mee, this is a great thing: which the eyes can neither dissemble, nor the heart suffer.
All the vices in mortall men are to be pardoned, because they offend naturally, saue only this discurtesy in women, and vngentlenes in men, which are counted of malice.
Diuers seruices by mee done to thee, and all the good willes I haue heretofore borne to thee, thou onely Lady Macrine, with one thing reward me. I pray thee be not slacke to helpe me, for I was not so to offer mee into perill, If thou sayest that Patroclus thy husband hath that property in thee, at the least yet receiue me vpon proofe, & I will pretend a possession of thee: and in this wise the vainglory in being thine, shall hide the hurt being mine: thou makest mee maruell not a little, that for so small a rewarde, thou wilt suffer so great an importunity. For certainly we grant many things to an importunate man, which wee denie to a temperate man. If thou lady Macrine, hopest to ouercom me, behold I yeeld [Page 763] mee as vanquished. If thou wilt loose mee, I holde mee lost: if thou wilt kill mee, I holde me dead.
For by the gestures which I make before thy gates, and the secrete sighes, which I fetch in my house, thou mayst know how greatly I minde to rest, but thy braue assaults are rather buildings to nourish death, then to comfort the life. If thou wilt I escape this danger, denie me not remedie. For it shalbe a greater dishonour for to slay me, then shame to saue me. It is no iust thing for so small a gaine, to lose so faithfull a friend. I wote not how to make thee my debter, nor how to make thee pay mee: and the worst of all is, I knowe not what to say, nor how to determine For, I was not borne to mine owne wealth, but to be faithfull in thy seruices. And sith thou knowest whome thou hast trusted with thy messages, the same I do trust with this open letter, and my answer it secret. I do send to thee a jewell of pearle, and a peece of golde: I pray the Gods make thee receyue them, as willingly as I doe freely send them.
Marke Orator, to the inexorable Macrine.
CHAP. XII. ¶ Of a Letter which the Emperour Marcus Aurelius sent vnto the ladie Lyuia, wherein he reproueth that Loue is naturall, and that the most part of the Phylosophers and wise men haue been by Loue ouercome.
MArke full of sorrow, to thee carelesse Lyuia. If thy little care did lodge in me, and my sorrowes were harboured in thee, thou shouldest then see how little the quarrell is, that I make vnto thee in respect to the torments I suffer.
If the flames did issue out, as the Fire doeth burne mee within, the heauens should perish with smoake, and the earth should make imbers. If thou doest well remember the first time I saw thee in the Temple of the virgine Vestals, thou beeing there, diddest alwayes pray to the Gods for thy selfe, and I vpon my knees prayed to thee for mee. Thou knowest and so doe I, that thou diddest offer oyle and honnie to the Gods, but I did offer vnto thee teares and sighes.
It is iust thou giue more vnto him that offered his heart, then to him which draweth mony out of his purse I haue determined to write vnto thee this Letter, whereby thou mayest perceiue how thou art serued with the arrowes of mine Eyes, which were shot at the white of thy seruice.
Oh vnhappy that I am, I feare least this present calme doth threaten mee with a tempest to come. I will say that discurtesie in thee, causeth doubtfull hope in mee. Beholde my misaduenture, I had lost a letter, and turning to the Temple to seeke it, I found the letter, which was of some importance: and had almost lost my selfe, which is the greatest thing.
Considering my small reward, I see mine eyes (the Ladders of my hopes) set on so high a wall, that no lesse certaine is my fell then my clyming was doubtfull. Thou bending downe thy harnesse of thy high deserts, and putting mee to the poynt of continuall seruice, sufferest mee to enioy the fruite, and giue vnto whom thou wilt the leaues.
By the immortall Gods I sweare vnto thee, that I maruell not a little: For, I thought that in the Temple of the Virgin-Vestals no temptations could haue comen vnto any man: But contrary now by true experience [Page 764] I finde, that that woman is easylier ouercome, which is most watched, then the other that hath honest libertie.
All bodily diseases bee first had, ere they be knowne, and knowne ere they seene, and seene ere they be felt: and felt ere they be tasted: And so in all things except this dart of Loue: whom they first feele the stroke thereof, before they knowe the way how it commeth. The lightning commeth not so sudden, but it is knowne before by the thunder. The wall falleth not suddenly, but first some stones fall downe.
The colde commeth not so fast, but some small shiuering is seene before: only Loue is not felt, vntill he hath had power in the entrailes.
Let them know that are ignorant, and thou lady Lyuia, if thou wilt know, Loue sleepeth when we waken, and waketh when we sleepe: laugheth when wee weepe, and weepeth when wee laugh.
It assureth in taking, and taketh in in assuring: it speaketh when wee bee still, and is still when wee speake. And finally, it hath such a condition, that to giue vs our desire, it causeth vs to liue in paine. I sweare vnto the, when my will became thy seruant, and thy beautie made thee my Mistris, when I was at the Temple, and there found thee, neyther thou in thy prayers diddest minde mee, nor (I vnhappie man) did thinke on thee.
Oh vnhappy heart of mine, that being whole, thou art diuided: being in health thou art hurt, being aliue thou art killed: being mine thou art stolne: and the worste of all is, that thou not helping to my life, consentest that death should assault mee.
Considering manie times Lady Liuia with my selfe, my thoughtes to be high, and my Fortunes base, I would haue separated my selfe from thee: but vpon better hope, knowing my trauells to be well employed in thy seruice, I say though I might, I would not now wish to bee separated from thee.
I will not denie one thing, that is: The cursed Loue taketh away the taste of all things, and in those things only it giueth vs pleasure, which are greatly against our profite. This is the proofe of him that loueth heartily, that one frowne of her that hee loueth, doeth more grieue him, then all the delights of the rest of his life can please.
I deeme Ladie Lyuia, thou art abashed to see mee openly as a Phylosopher, & to know me secretly as a louer. I beseech thee hartily discouer me not. For if the Gods graunt mee long life, I am now a young foole, yet in age, I will be wise.
The Gods know what I desire, and the force which doeth enforce mee thereunto. And as the flesh is weake, and the hart tender, the occasions manie, the vertues fewe, the world deceitfull, the people malicious. So I passe this spring-time with flowres, in hope that in haruest I shall haue some fruite.
Thinkest thou lady Lyuia, that philosophers (bee they neuer so wise) are are not touched with the sharpe darts of Loue? and that vnder their course cloathes, there is not softe flesh and white? Certainly amongst hard bones is nourished soft flesh: and within the pricking huskes growe the Chess-nut.
I say that vnder the simple attyre, is the faithfull loue. I do not denie but our fraile nature doeth withstand our vertues. Nor I denie not but that the wanton desires are repressed with vertuous mindes. Nor I denie not, but that the rashnes of youth are restrayned with the reynes of reason.
I denie not but many times wisdome doeth withstand that which the flesh procureth: and yet I confesse that hee which is not amorous, is a Foole.
And doest thou not know, that although we be wise, we leaue not therefore [Page 765] to be men? doest not thou know, all that euer wee learne in our life, sufficeth not to gouerne the Flesh one houre? Doest not thou know, that to wise men in this case hath fallen many errours? Doest not thou knowe, that there hath bin and are manie maisters of vertues: and much more there are and hath bin followers of vices.
Then, why doest thou make such a wonder onely of mee? I will nor say it without a trueth, that I neuer had my iudgement so good and perfite, as when Cupid blewe winde on mee, with his wings.
There was neuer man vntill my time accounted wise, but first hee was intangled with Cupids snares. Gratian was in loue with Tamira. Solon Salaminus the giuer of the laws, was enamoured with one Gretian. Pittachus Mytelenus left his owne wife, and was in loue with a Bond-woman that hee brought from the warres.
Cleobolus when hee was foure-score yeares elde, and had read Phylosophie sixtie-fiue yeares, climbing vp a Ladder, to scale his Neighbours wall, fell, and of the bruise dyed.
Periander Prince of Achaya, and chiefe philosopher of Greece, at the instance of his louers, slew his own wife. Anacharsis a Philosopher, a Scythian by his Father, and a Greeke by the mothers side, loued so dearely a woman of Thebes, that hee taught her all that he knew: in so much that he being sicke on his bed, shee read for him in the schooles.
Epimenides of Creete, that slept 15. yeares without waking. Although hee was a great worshipper of the Gods, yet he was banished Athens 10. yeares for the louing of Women.
Architus Tarentinus, the master of Plato, and scholler of Pythagoras, occupyed his minde more to inuent newe kindes of Loue, then to employ his studies to vertue and Learning.
Gorgias Leontinus, borne in Scicile, had mo concubines in his house, then bookes in his studie. All these were wise men, and we knew them wise, yet at the ende they were ouercome with flesh. Therefore blame me not alone, for as I haue tolde thee of these fewe, so could I of a whole armey.
For of trueth he ought to haue many things, that will bee accounted a curious Louer. He must haue his eyes displayed on her that hee loueth, his vnderstanding much altered in that hee thinketh, his tongue troubled in that it should speake: so that in seeing he is blinde, in thinking dismaid, in speaking troubled.
O Ladie Lyuia, the louing in mockerie, passeth by mockery: but where true loue is, there is griefe and no mockery: there true loue spitteth his poyson, and cruell Cupid fixeth his Arrowes vp to the feathers.
The Eyes weepe, the heart sigheth, the Flesh trembleth, the sinewes doe shrinke, the vnderstanding is grosse, reason falleth to the earth: Finally, the heauie Louer abyding in himselfe, holdeth nothing of himselfe.
All this I say, because if I want knowledge to make mee a Louer; yet am I sure that the workes faile not in me to effect thy seruice. And though by mishap I saw thee, yet by good chaunce I knew thee. I aske nothing of thee, but that thou loue me faithfully, sith I loue thee vnfainedly. And if thou hearest that I am sicke from my hart, I desire thee to doe me some good. Sith it is in thee only to helpe me, it is reason thou onely doe seeke for remedie.
I was greatly comforted when Fulius Carlotus desired me in thy behalfe, to doe a pleasure, which I did incontinent all that thou desiredst, to the intent that thou another day shouldest doe franckly that I desire thee. And beholde faire Ladie Lyuia, the woman that is serued with seruices, it is great [Page 768] reason within a while she be sued vnto by prayer. And though my strength cannot open the gates of the purpose, or not agreeing to thy demand yet all my labors slacke not to vphold thy renowne. I pray thee discouer not the one, nor beguile me with the other: For thou seest in graunting is remedy, and in hoping is comfort: but promise is deceiuable, and delaying is perillous, and the entertayning bindeth.
I see well that the hearty demaund requireth a long answere: but I wold not thou shouldst doe so. But as I loue thee, so loue mee: as I desire of thee, so graunt thou mee.
I will say once againe, I am all thine, and nothing mine owne. And note Lady Lyuia, that it is as much honour to thee, as profitable for mee, that thou chaunge these thy desires, and put in order thy disordered will. For, thou seest it is much better to heale shortly, then too-late, with fayling thy purpose?
All Women obserue an euill opinion, that is: yee neuer receiue councell, although it bee giuen you in neuer so weightie a case. And if it bee not so, then because thou art esteemed beautifull, bee likewise honoured for taking of good councell. In this sort, though my losse be much, and thy patience little, yet shall they account me wise in giuing counsell, and the most happie to follow it.
One thing I will say vnto thee, and pardon mee therein. Women bee much defamed in that they will take no counsell, and such as doe assure their renowme so much on the iudgement of others, as they condemne well doing before.
I thinke good if it so like thee, and would if thou wilt, that thou shouldest doe in all [...] I haue counselled thee.
I will say no more Lady Lyuia, but that I do present vnto thee, all my vnfortunate troubles, my sighes as a desperate man: my seruice, as thy seruant, my troubled griefes, my wordes of Phylosophie, and my teares as a Louer: I send thee heere a gyrstle of Gold, on condition that thou alwayes sixe thine Eyes on that, and thy heart on mee.
I pray the Gods giue mee to thee, and thee to mee.
Marke the open Phylosopher, wrote this in great [...].